Nothing But Scandal (4 page)

Elizabeth’s stomach flipped, but she maintained a pleasant smile. Alex Bainbridge was coming. The man before whom she’d utterly humiliated herself.

The man who could have her fired with the merest word.

So much for a peaceful existence in the country. It appeared she would be put to the test immediately.

Alex spurred his mount across the final stretch of open field. The stallion tossed its head, then flexed its muscles beneath him as it responded to the command. Alex reveled in the crisp air rushing through his hair. His eyes teared at the corners as the horse gained speed, flying over the acres of the Grumsby estate.

He could think of nothing he’d rather be doing on this perfect May morning. He’d purchased that stallion at the Derringworth stables on behalf of his brother-in-law, Brian Grumsby. Normally, he’d have examined the animal thoroughly before making an offer, but he’d been too irritated by that sorry lout Wetherby to bother negotiating.

Brian hadn’t balked at the price, but knowing Alex was the better horseman, had merely asked him to put the animal through its paces, once it had been delivered, to evaluate whether the amount had been fair. Alex welcomed the task, and the excuse to spend some time in the country.

The physical exertion of this morning’s ride helped wrench his mind from the dissolution of his past, and the clean, open air and fields eased the feelings of suffocation that had lately plagued him in London.

His brother-in-law had acquired a fine, strong horse. It was young, and a bit lacking in polish and endurance, but that would come with time and maturity.

Alex let his mind wander as the ground disappeared beneath the flash of hooves. In London he was constantly hounded by businessmen, fawning nobles, and aspiring women. The business he enjoyed, and he’d long since grown used to the others, but sometimes a man just wanted to be left to himself. He’d been feeling that way more and more often of late.

The fact was—and he was man enough to admit it—he’d come to a point in his life where he wasn’t quite sure of his direction. His estates and investments were operating smoothly. After fifteen years of watching his ventures pay off, he was confident in all his business decisions. But he was no longer inspired, no longer driven to prove himself. Nor was he interested in living the life of leisure and dissipation so many of his fellow noblemen embraced. He’d certainly tried it. But the cards grew old, the women tiresome. And the one time he’d made a mistake, it had been disastrous.

No, he needed something different, something new. He just didn’t know what.

The country house with its manicured grounds came into view. After he cooled off the horse, he would have a nice visit with his sister and say hello to her children, who adored their only uncle. The other guests would arrive soon. He hadn’t been thrilled to hear of the party, but Marian rarely entertained and was counting on his presence. He wouldn’t let her down by returning to London.

As he approached the gardens, Alex reined in the horse. The children were out enjoying the morning with their governess, each tugging on one of her hands as they excitedly pointed out flowers, bugs, and other delights. Young Henry struggled to hold the leash of an exuberant black Labrador puppy, a recent gift for his sixth birthday.

Their governess was a plain woman, in gray cap and gown, but her attentiveness to the children was admirable. Alex saw her nod and laugh as his niece, Clara, held up a tiny bird’s nest for examination. So absorbed was she in her young charge’s treasure that she failed to hear Alex’s approach. The puppy, on the other hand, went wild with excitement, broke free of Henry’s grip, and ran pell-mell through the garden before rushing back to the trio.

Poor Henry grabbed for the trailing leash as the puppy dashed between Clara and the governess, toppling them both as he was brought up short. Masses of red hair tumbled out of the governess’s cap, which now sat severely askew.

Alex caught his breath. Only one woman he knew had hair like that. But what in blazes would
she
be doing here? He dismounted quickly.

Plain, indeed. The children’s governess, he saw as he strode toward the garden, was none other than Elizabeth Medford. She dusted herself off gingerly and checked Clara for bruises while Henry admonished his puppy.

“Don’t scold him too hard, Master Henry,” she said. “He’s just a pup, after all, and what is a pup to do when a great, scary horse rides up?”

Elizabeth looked up, and Alex saw her eyes widen as she recognized him. Her cheeks filled with color and she shook her head slightly.

Alex nodded, acknowledging her silent plea. He had plenty of questions for the brash Society miss-turned-governess, but he would not embarrass her by raising them in front of the children.

“Uncle Alex!” Blissfully unaware of the tension between the two adults, Henry jumped up and down in an effort to get his uncle’s attention.

“Your governess is right, Henry,” Alex said smoothly, bending for the little boy’s hug. “Here, let me show you a better way to hold that leash.”

Elizabeth’s eyes were boring holes in the back of his neck, but he absorbed himself in puppy care. From the corner of his eye, he saw her straighten her cap and withdraw to a small garden bench as he played with the children. Her meek attitude completely belied the brazen chit he remembered from that morning in Hyde Park. The serviceable gray serge gown also made clear that she was not merely a guest of his sister who’d taken the children for a stroll.

What on earth had happened in the last two weeks to change her so completely? And how had she landed in his sister’s employ?

Whether Miss Medford wished it or not, he was going to find out more.

With a promise to return soon, he sent the children running back to Elizabeth.

He quickly found a lad to care for the stallion—thankfully the beast hadn’t wandered far—and strode into the house, ignoring the servants’ subtle glances at his dusty boots and jacket. He needed to find Marian.

His sister sat in her favorite salon, the blue-and-white room, working peacefully at her embroidery.

“What is
she
doing here?” Alex boomed.

Marian jumped, dropping her needlework. “Who?”

“
Her
. Miss Medford.”

“I took her on as governess to the children.”

“Clearly. But—” Alex searched his mind for how to say what needed to be said. He strode toward his sister. “Do you even know who she is?”

“Of course I do,” Marian said calmly. “Sit down, Alex. There’s no need for dramatics. I fail to see why you’re upset. It isn’t the poor woman’s fault her circumstances are so reduced. Would you rather I’d turned her away?”

“No.” Alex raked a hand through his hair, ignoring the invitation to sit. “Yes.”

Marian narrowed her eyes at him, no stranger to the rumors about her brother’s many romantic liaisons. “Is there anything
else
I should know about her?”

Alex’s shoulders slumped. “No.” In spite of Elizabeth’s outrageous proposal—a proposal he could
not
stop thinking about—nothing had actually happened. And he’d agreed not to mention their conversation, so there was really nothing more to say.

Marian’s gaze softened. “She’s good with the children, Alex. She just wants to live quietly, forget the past, and do her job. That’s all I ask as well. I imagine it’s difficult for her. Just let her be.”

Slowly, Alex took a seat. Elizabeth was a schemer. He was sure of it. A beautiful one, to be sure, but no young lady of the ton would willingly trade her privileged life for the work of a governess. Had her only marital option been that boor he’d met at the stables? He’d not heard Elizabeth described as one of the ton’s Incomparables, but surely she’d had suitors besides the one she’d been so desperate to avoid. And if she was absolutely determined
not
to marry, any number of men would happily support her in a comfortable style for the favors she’d rashly—and freely—offered
him
. Of course, her reputation would be shredded. She was too intelligent not to realize that.

Nor did he believe it pure coincidence that she had hired on with the sister of the man to whom she’d made that insane proposal.

No, Elizabeth Medford was definitely up to something. He just didn’t know what. And, clearly, Marian had been just as taken in by Elizabeth as Alex had been by her father.

“So, who have you invited to this party of yours?” he asked to change the subject. “It’s a small affair, right? After all, the Season is still on.”

“A smallish affair,” Marian confirmed. “About twenty guests.” A matchmaking look Alex knew too well lit his sister’s eyes. “Miss Landow and Miss Symington will be in attendance, along with a cousin of theirs just returned from France. I can’t recall her name just now. Unmarried,” she added helpfully.

“I see. Please, do not tell me this party has been concocted for the purpose of finding me a lifelong companion.”

“A fiancée.” Marian’s features took on the fierceness of one going into battle. “No, that’s not why I’m having the party, strictly speaking. But it wouldn’t hurt you to look. When are you going to settle down, Alex? Your youthful follies were fine for, well, a youth, but it’s been some time since you’ve seriously courted anyone.”

“I’m not interested.”

“You need an heir,” Marian pressed.

“You speak as though I’ve one foot in the grave already.”

Marian’s expression softened. “No, of course not. I just want to see you happy. And no matter what you claim, I don’t believe all your little
affaires
are actually making you that way.”

She had a point. But admitting it would only add fuel to her fire. “We’ll see,” he said instead.

Alex’s plan to uncover Elizabeth’s true motives was not progressing well. He’d learned disappointingly little from his sister. Confronting Elizabeth in person proved difficult, for the tempting governess had made herself quite scarce. As soon as the guests for the house party had arrived, Elizabeth and the children had retreated to the nursery, or wherever it was children went with their governesses these days.

When she did appear in the open, she had the children in tow, and they were usually off to the gardens or the pond—somewhere, Alex realized, she was unlikely to be recognized by the other guests.

On Saturday afternoon, Alex watched as Elizabeth walked with the little ones in the garden, pointing out the various plants and shrubs. A nature lesson, he guessed.

The other houseguests were on an outing in the nearby town, but Alex had begged off, citing estate matters and correspondence. He’d dispatched those matters with ease, leaving the remainder of the day to his leisure.

Elizabeth laughed, presumably at something one of the children had said. She’d allowed her bonnet to fall back, and the rays of the sun kissed her cheeks and gleamed on her hair.

She was an enigma. Three weeks ago, he’d thought her no more than a spoiled, defiant daughter who didn’t know what was best for her—and who came from a family of schemers. Most of London knew by now that the Medford coffers were empty, the family teetering on the brink of ruin. He was well aware of his own role in bringing them to that state, but what had Miss Medford actually hoped to accomplish when she’d approached him in the park? And why
him?

True, she wanted to avoid marrying the arrogant pig he’d encountered at the Derringworth stables, but Elizabeth could have gone to any other nobleman—any other
man,
for that matter—and made him the same proposal she’d made to him. He couldn’t imagine many, besides himself, would turn her down.

But, apparently, she hadn’t sought out another man, a fact he found oddly satisfying.

She had, however, been serious enough about avoiding the unwanted marriage to accept work as a governess and risk being ostracized from her family.

Judging from the genuine smile she gave the little girl holding her hand now, she didn’t appear to be sulking over that decision. He had to give her credit for that.

Was her behavior with the children the true Elizabeth, and that morning in the park with him only a fluke? Alex considered himself an excellent judge of character, but he’d made a grave mistake with her father, and Elizabeth confused him even more. Even so, he wanted her.

Alex resolved once more to speak with the unusual Miss Medford. If only he could get her alone.

Though the Grumsbys’ house was spacious and well constructed, the walls could not completely mute the sounds of the ongoing party. Elizabeth willed herself to ignore them, but the occasional clink of a glass and low rumbles of laughter were excruciating reminders of how much she had lost.

She’d thought she’d reconciled herself to her new station. But knowing
he
was downstairs, likely surrounded by fluttering women vying for his attention…remembering how desperately she’d wanted his attention for herse…well, she simply could not concentrate on responding to Bea’s most recent letter.

At least the duke had left her alone since that first morning, reducing her opportunities to further embarrass herself. Not to mention reducing her own opportunities to gaze longingly at the man who obviously found her charms lacking.

Did he think her a charlatan in her new role as governess? Thank the heavens he hadn’t said anything to Lady Grumsby about their last encounter, or she’d have been fired and back in Harold’s clutches for certain.

Perhaps it was like Bea had said, and he’d dismissed her from his mind entirely. If only she could do the same about him.

Instead, Elizabeth wished that for one day, she could have the luxury Alex Bainbridge did—not the material items, but the luxury to behave however recklessly he desired, and emerge unscathed.

Another rumble of laughter sounded, and she imagined him at the center of an admiring group.

Finally she gave up all pretense of writing. If Bea didn’t receive a response immediately, she was unlikely to worry.

Elizabeth couldn’t sit still any longer. She pulled a light shawl around her shoulders and quietly left her room. A walk in the gardens was in order. To be so near the duke, and yet so far, made her heart ache. But she’d stay well away from the party. She’d no desire to see the other guests—it was only too likely she’d be recognized and pitied.

The faint scent of earth and new growth lingered in the air as she stepped away from the house. She breathed it in, relaxing slightly. The moon hung low and bright in the sky. She and the solitary orb had something in common: they were alone. She forced her mind to focus on it, letting the tinkling sounds of the house party wash over her like harmless waves.

She was away from Harold, and she had employment. She’d just never realized how lonely her new life would be.

Inside, Alex smiled obligingly at the comely miss—what was her name?—with whom Marian had set him up. He stifled a yawn.

Alex loved his sister dearly, but this party was beyond mundane.

“I think I need a bit of fresh air,” he lied.

The young lady brightened, no doubt imagining a romantic interlude. “Shall I accompany you, Your Grace?”

“No.”

Her face fell. She gathered her skirts and, with a hasty curtsy, rushed off to join the gaggle of women surrounding his sister. Perfect. Marian would undoubtedly hear firsthand about his beastly behavior. Alex tossed back his wine, wishing it was brandy. Marian could scold him if she wanted, but he wasn’t about to start encouraging every vapid miss that came his way. His heart wasn’t in it.

Before another of Marian’s guests could attach herself to him, Alex made a hasty exit, heading outdoors to back up the claim he needed air. He could always come back in through another entrance and seek the solace of his rooms.

Perhaps he’d become too accustomed to more wicked pursuits, because tonight, when the “entertainment” consisted of sipping wine and politely listening to pianoforte performances, he felt as though he were dying a slow death.

As he rounded a path outdoors and spied the silhouette of a young woman standing alone in the garden, the evening became infinitely more interesting—particularly because the gleam of moonlight on auburn hair immediately gave her identity away.

Unconsciously, he softened his step. This time, she’d not be able to avoid him.

He waited until he stood just behind her before asking the question he’d been pondering since discovering her in his sister’s employ. “Why are you here?”

She whipped around, eyes large. “Your Grace.”

He inclined his head.

“I was just, that is”—she gestured toward the sky—“the moon is lovely tonight.”

“So it is. But that only answers part of my question.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“What brings you here, Miss Medford? To Garden Home?”

“You know the answer to that, Your Grace. I am governess to your nephew and niece.”

“Of course.”

“What do you mean, ‘of course’?” Her chin went up. “Your sister was kind to hire me, and I am thankful for the position.”

He admired her unique combination of spirit and humility. She wasn’t too proud to admit she was grateful to have work, but she was strong enough to defend her choice. And now that he’d met Harold Wetherby, Alex had an inkling of why she’d made that decision. But he wanted to hear it from her. Why
had
she run away, when so many other women in her plight would have submissively married the prig?

“I had the pleasure of meeting your fiancé,” he announced, keeping his tone jovial.

She frowned. “My fiancé?”

“Wetherby informs me you two are to marry.”

Even the moonlight couldn’t hide her deep flush. Embarrassment, or something else? Anger, perhaps?

“Oh, yes. We’re very much in love,” she choked out.

“So Wetherby says,” Alex lied. “He is…really something. However did you manage to catch him?”

A strangled laugh escaped her throat. “Sheer luck, I suppose.”

“Oh, come now,” he teased. “A beauty like yourself? Wetherby must have done away with all your other suitors to even have a chance.”

“Something like that,” she said faintly, and pulled her shawl closer around her shoulders.

Ah. So she
hadn’t
had other offers. At least none her father had accepted prior to his death. Elizabeth was attractive, but her lack of dowry was public knowledge. Guilt pricked him, and he resisted the urge to draw her close and protect her.

Instead, Alex decided to raise the stakes of their verbal game. “So, tell me. How does Wetherby feel about his fiancée working as a governess?”

Some unidentifiable emotion flickered in her eyes, but she kept her stance proud. “I was quite grief-stricken when my father died, and not at all ready to wed. Harold understands that. And he understands the necessity of working to support oneself, having done so himself.”

Alex was willing to bet Wetherby would happily live off another’s largess, given the opportunity. But that was not his main concern.

“Ah. So he does know you’re here.”

She hesitated.

The game was up.

“Elizabeth? The truth, if you please.”

She looked away, her posture so rigid that, especially in the moonlight, she could have been made of marble.

“All right. If you must know, Harold does not know my new location,” she murmured.

“And you wish to keep it that way,” he surmised. She’d rather toil in obscurity than marry that cretin. It was a decision few of her sex would make, but one he could respect.

“You won’t say anything to him, will you?” she pled, stepping closer and placing one hand on his jacket. There was real fear in her voice.

He placed his hand over hers. Wetherby was more of a bastard than he’d thought, if he frightened her so. Alex gentled his tone. “No. I will say nothing.”

She breathed a sigh of relief. She made a tiny motion to withdraw her hand, but he held it firm.

“But you must make me a promise in return.”

“My lord?”

“I’ve yet to have a dull encounter with you, Miss Medford. Which sets you apart from most of your female counterparts.”

“Thank you, I suppose,” she answered. Her tongue darted out nervously to wet her lips.

A flash of heat, of pure sensual awareness, passed through him. He released her hand in surprise. “It was indeed intended as a compliment,” he told her.

“But what must I promise you?”

Never taking his gaze from hers, he gave her his most wicked grin. “Stop avoiding me.”

Her features registered surprise. Alex was tempted to kiss away the expression, but settled instead for a light brush of his fingers against her cheek before he strode back to the house. He’d learned what he needed to know—there was no point in scaring her off.

His sojourn in the country had suddenly become far more entertaining.
If
Elizabeth had the guts to keep that promise.

The Viscountess Grumsby didn’t know it, but she was torturing Elizabeth. The small house party was supposed to last a week. It was the morning of day three, and Elizabeth felt trapped.

She’d been on edge ever since Alex Bainbridge had galloped, literally, back into her life. Blast her awful red hair. But for it, he might not have recognized her so quickly. The moment she’d looked up into those mocking dark eyes, she’d been struck by both embarrassment and longing. This was the man privy to, and in some way responsible for, the most excruciatingly humiliating moment of her life.

And yet one look into that sinfully handsome face, one moment spent observing his obvious caring for his niece and nephew, and Elizabeth was once more lost. Only this time she couldn’t afford to humiliate herself. Her position depended on model behavior.

Decorum. Responsibility and decorum. She’d breached them once in her proposal to Alex, and once more in leaving home. A third indiscretion would surely mean her destruction.

And after their conversation in the garden last night, Elizabeth worried that indiscretion was
exactly
what the duke had in mind. If only the idea wasn’t so tempting.

If Viscountess Grumsby had any notion of the thoughts Elizabeth harbored toward her brother, she’d be cast out without reference. And while being a governess was not a life of luxury, Elizabeth was content, at least for now. The Grumsby children were sweet-natured and eager to learn and explore. The lord and lady of the house treated her kindly. Her own family had, thus far, left her alone. Eventually, Elizabeth figured, she would come up with a more permanent solution for her future. In the meantime, her governess’s work provided just the haven she needed.

Elizabeth sighed and closed the door to the nursery. She’d just turned the children over to their nurse for a midday meal and rest. The Grumsbys’ guests were gone on an afternoon outing. She could relax.

“I thought I’d never find you alone.”

Elizabeth gasped and turned. Her heart gave a little
thud.
There, on the stair landing, stood the man she’d just been trying to forget.

“Your Grace.”

“You can be quite evasive, Miss Medford.”

He sounded amused.

Elizabeth kept her gaze about six inches below his chin, unwilling to see the mocking expression she knew he wore. “I don’t know what you mean, Your Grace. My position here keeps me quite busy.”

“You haven’t been avoiding me?”

To answer she’d have to lie or reveal too much, so Elizabeth kept silent. She dared a quick glance upward. The look in his eyes told her he knew.

“Whatever happened to your promise?”

She lifted her chin. “I don’t believe I actually made that promise.”

“You disappoint me, Elizabeth.”

She disappointed herself as well, for the secret joy she took in his presence.
Decorum,
she thought once more, but the mental reminder was drowned out by the pounding of her heart, which had doubled in pace when he stepped near.

“Well,” he said with a slow smile, “it appears you have a temporary reprieve from your many duties. Perhaps you will humor me with a stroll in the garden?”

“I’ve just recently come in from the garden,” she replied, trying to keep from sounding peevish.

“I see. Well, perhaps you’d allow me to show you the library?”

“What are you doing here?” she asked instead.

“I might ask the same of you.”

The deep timbre of his voice sent a shiver down her spine. “You haven’t—” She swallowed and tried again. “You haven’t told anyone what I did?”

“No. Though I do believe I am owed some answers. I am—how shall I say?—concerned, with what I learned last night. To the library, then?”

She was caught. After all, she’d promised, sort of, not to avoid him. He knew her secrets. She needed to keep his good favor. In all the years she’d hoped Alex Bainbridge would seek her out, she’d never imagined it quite this way. The bright side, she told herself, was that she
had
been meaning to look at the library.

“I would be most pleased,” she acquiesced, trying not to think about what exact answers the lofty duke thought himself entitled to.

He gave her a satisfied grin and offered his arm, as though she were still Miss Medford, the baron’s daughter, and not Miss Medford, governess to the nobility.

Feeling it would be churlish not to accept the gesture, Elizabeth placed her hand in the crook of his arm and allowed him to escort her downstairs and to the library. She already knew its location, of course, and was quite capable of conveying herself there, but for just a moment she chose to forget the past several months, to forget the vaguely threatening note in the duke’s voice or the fact that he’d once rejected her utterly, and allow this fantasy to play itself out.

It was the middle of the day and there were servants about. Surely no harm could come of this.

“Ah, here we are,” Alex said as he led her into a large, well-appointed library. Bookshelves, each filled to capacity, lined three walls. On the fourth, large mullioned windows overlooked the lawns of the estate. The chairs and chaises scattered about the room were designed for comfort. It was the perfect place to lose oneself in a book, or even just in thought.

“’Tis a lovely room, Your Grace,” Elizabeth said. “Thank you for showing it to me.”

He shot her a knowing look. “You wouldn’t be anxious to be rid of me, would you, Miss Medford?”

“Of course not.” It was a lie, and he knew it as well as she. She pressed her lips together and took a deep breath. “You said you wanted answers. Well, here is your answer, Your Grace. That moment in the park was folly. A rash and unwise move on my part. I have never done anything else like it, nor do I intend to.