Simply Scandalous (30 page)

It is to be regretted that such a trifling illness must
prevent you from keeping our appointment, sir, and even more regrettable that you must choose to take the
ungentlemanlike step of sending an imposter in your
place. I daresay you instructed Miss Wayborn to cheat
as well, and the abominable transvestite was more than
happy to comply, but I must remind you that our
wager was upon a race between myself and yourself,
and while I congratulate you on having a mustachio d
amazon for a sister, I cannot, in good conscience,
keep your five hundred pounds. Therefore, I am returning your money until such a time as you are recovered from your sickness and may meet me in person
at the Black Lantern Inn. I urge you to leave your unnatural sister at home where she belongs.

Cordially,

Geoffrey Ambler, Lord Swale

Juliet's face was scarlet by the time she finished reading this.

"He has me struck down like a dog in the street,"
Cary said through clenched teeth, "then he taunts me
with this! And he dares to insult Julie-abominable
transvestite! Mustachio'd amazon!"

Juliet tore the note into tiny pieces and flung it into
the fireplace. "That is an unforgivable letter, and I will
make him pay for it, but it don't signify his lordship's guilt. He was angry when he wrote those words,
and you know, we did put it out for Aunt Elinor's sake
that you had influenza."

"Listen to the poor lamb defending the wolf! " said
Cary. "If you like him so well, why did you not marry
him when you had the chance?"

"I never said I liked him," she protested. "He is
coarse and rude, and-and let me tell you, his face
belongs in a grotto! Indeed, I do not like him."

"Let us be thankful for that!" said Cary. "If you ever start to feel you might like him, just remember
that note, my dear, sweet mustachio'd amazon. He accuses you of cheating too, my dear, sweet, unnatural
sister. My abominable transvestite!"

"Oh! cried Juliet furiously.

"His lordship is here now, Juliet," said Benedict,
giving her shoulder a sympathetic pat. "Whatever we
feel, we must afford him the dignity and respect due
to a guest."

"Does that include you, Sir Benedict?" she responded.

The baronet raised his brows. "What have I done?"

"It's what you will do that worries me," she retorted. "And that is provoke Lord Swale with your cold
disdain! I expect you to be an amiable host. And
though it costs me, I shall be an amiable hostess.
I've decided to put him in-in Quebec."

"I put my friends in Quebec," Cary objected. "Put
him in Hastings."

"I can't put him in Hastings," Juliet cried.

Benedict shuddered. "Certainly not! I had understood Hastings to be unsuitable for all human habitation. The servants use it as a sort of a storage
cupboard, I think."

"I might put him in Agincourt," she said slowly.

"Certainly not! " both her brothers cried at once.

"I'm sure we have no reason to show off for Lord
Swale," said Benedict. "Runnymede will be more
than sufficient for his lordship's needs, and it has the
advantage of being on the other side of the house
from the family's rooms. Put him in Runnymede."

Juliet looked mutinous but said nothing.

"Go on, Juliet," said Benedict. "See to your guest."

"And send up more tea," Cary added imperiously.
"This has grown cold, my girl. Did you even boil the
water?"

In the hall, Juliet nearly collided with Pickering, who
was leaving Sir Benedict's dressing room. "Ah, Pickering," she said, giving him the tea tray. "Have you finished his lordship?"

"Yes, Miss Julie," he replied. "I sent him down to
Lady Elkins on the terrace."

"And?"

"I think you'll be pleased, Miss Julie."

"Master Cary wants more tea," she told him. "And
see if you can't get him to shave that fungus. If he refuses, we can always do it while he's sleeping."

"Yes, Miss Julie."

"Thank you, Pickering," she said, running down the
hall to the stairs. "Pickering?"

"Yes, Miss Julie?"

She chewed on her bottom lip for a moment, then
said decisively, "I'm moving his lordship to Agincourt. Will you please inform Mrs. Spinner?"

Pickering was startled. "Agincourt, Miss?"

"Yes, Pickering," she said testily. "Why shouldn't I
put him in Agincourt if I wish? I'm the mistress of this
house until my brother marries, and I shall put him
anywhere I please. I defy anyone to question my right
to do so!"

"Yes, Miss Julie."

"Inform Mrs. Spinner there's to be a fire and fresh
flowers and every good thing. Except-and I am
firm on this, Pickering-under no circumstances is
his lordship's man Bowditch to be admitted into the
house."

"Yes, Miss Julie," said Pickering with unusual fervor.

Feeling rather flustered, she paused at the mirror
in the hall to smooth her hair before descending the
stairs to the drawing room. It was a mild spring afternoon, and the French windows all stood open, and she could see the terrace beyond. Lady Elkins was
seated outside with a shawl wrapped around her shoulders, her face set in an expression of peevish disgust.

"More tea, my lord?"

Juliet was startled by the coldness in her aunt's voice.
What on earth had Swale done to Aunt Elinor? It was
not in Lady Elkins's nature to be anything but amiable
to a young bachelor of great fortune and rank.

But perhaps, Juliet thought with a smile, Lady
Elkins had accepted that Lord Swale was beyond her
niece's grasp, so she very sensibly had decided to
hate the very man she would have delighted in calling nephew.

`I wouldn't say no, Lady Elkins," Swale replied
cheerfully. At first, Juliet could not see him, but then
he crossed the terrace to hand his cup to his hostess,
stopping in front of the open window.

"Oh, my dear, sweet Lord!" Juliet murmured,
shocked into blasphemy.

His head was bare, almost completely bare. Less
than a quarter inch of red hair covered his skull in the
severest crop she had ever seen. She could only stare,
stupefied, as he turned, and catching sight of her
standing within the house, he smiled.

"Here she is, Lady Elkins. Miss Wayborn, will you
not join us?"

Juliet stepped onto the terrace, moving automatically, her eyes trained on Swale's shorn head.

He ran his hand across the stubble self-consciously.
"She's speechless, Lady Elkins. That's a good sign,
isn't it?"

Once the shock had faded, she discovered that
the cut actually suited him. It made him look more
gentlemanlike, and his skull had a good shape. His
ears were rather long, but they did not stick out too much. All the same, much to her own surprise, she
missed the rumpled red mop. She did not, however,
miss the rumpled clothes. Thanks to Pickering, his
lordship was neat without being fastidious in a dark
blue coat and buckskin breeches.

"He scalped me, Miss Wayborn," said Swale, rubbing
his shorn head. "Not so much as an inch of stubble did
he leave me. But I was told that a certain lady preferred
a cropped head, and ... one must make sacrifices when
one is"-he cleared his throat in embarrassment"in love."

Juliet's mouth was suddenly as dry as a desert.

"Lord Swale," Lady Elkins said icily, "has come to
Surrey to make himself agreeable to a certain lady. I
think we can guess who that lady is."

"You see the lengths to which I am willing to go to
please her," said Swale.

Juliet's breath caught in her throat. She now understood her aunt's coldness, but strangely, she was
not amused. So Swale really had come to fix things
between himself and Serena Calverstock! Perhaps
they were already engaged. If Juliet knew anything
about Serena, she would certainly seize the chance to
become Lady Swale. Maria Fitzwilliam would be
pleased in her new sister, and she supposed his Grace
of Auckland could have no real objection to the lady,
who was beautiful and well-bred and rich.

But Swale! Could he be taken in by a phony like
Serena? Did he truly believe that the lady, after loving
Alex Devize, then Cary Wayborn, two very handsome
and dashing young bucks, could suddenly transfer her
affections to Swale, who was neither handsome nor
charming?

And how dare Swale come to Wayborn Hall and use her home as a base of operations for his pursuit of
another woman, and a woman she detested too!

She had no claim on him of course, but she considered it inexpressibly rude of him to court another
woman under her very nose-and to brag about it to
her face. Had he so little regard for her dignity as that?
The knowledge that Serena could not possibly return
his affection and that she would certainly make him
miserable did not console her in the least.

"The Beast has come to claim his Beauty, in fact,"
she said lightly.

"Precisely!" he said, holding out his cup to Lady
Elkins and beaming proudly.

"I seem to be out of tea, my lord," snapped Lady
Elkins bitterly.

Juliet folded her hands and said with tolerable
nonchalance, "I had understood, my lord, that you
had quite a different reason for coming into Surrey.
I had understood that you are on probation with
your club and that one of the terms of your probation
is that you stay near my brother and make sure no
harm comes to him until the race."

'Well, yes," he admitted. "But the neighborhood has
another attraction for me. I think you know me well
enough, Miss Wayborn, to know that I'd tell every man
jack of my club to go hang himself. But for my own
reasons, I want to be here. This lady ... well, London
is pretty flat without her, let me tell you! Life, Miss Wayborn, is pretty flat without her, to say the truth."

"Excuse me,"Juliet said in a strangled voice. "I've
only just remembered-I must speak to Cook about
the savory."

He bowed to her. "I'll eat anything you put in front
of me, Miss Wayborn. Even if you set it on fire! "

"I remember," she said coldly.

He called after her as she made her escape. "I'll even
eat cheese with pleasure."

"Odious, odious toad!" she muttered, mounting the
stairs that led to the splendid guest suite that bore the
name Agincourt. She could scarcely believe that for one
half moment, she had actually thought she was glad to
see him! That, as Cary had accused, she liked him!

"Toad! " she cried aloud.

"Miss Julie?"

The two footmen carrying Swale's trunk into Agincourt's dressing room looked at her curiously. "Are
you all right, Miss Julie?" asked Albert. "You look a
mite feverish."

"Take that back to Hastings at once!" she snapped.
"Agincourt would be quite wasted on a philistine
like Lord Swale! I will teach him to make love to another woman right under my nose! I will teach that
bald man to tell me life is pretty flat without Serena
Calverstock! "

The footmen exchanged bewildered glances. "Yes,
Miss Julie."

"And if a dead rat was good enough for Stacy, it's
more than good enough for him!"

Returning to the terrace, she found Swale alone
and the servants clearing the tea away. "Where is my
aunt?" she asked him in an accusatory tone.

"I didn't break her, if that's what you mean," Swale
answered, laughing.

"Lady Elkins has the headache, Miss Julie," one of
the servants told Juliet. "Miss Huddle is with her now."

"Thank you, jem." She waited until the servants
were gone before she said, "Cary is resting, and Sir
Benedict is with his estate agent, my lord."

"And Lady Elkins has the migraine. If you wanted to be alone with me, Miss Wayborn, you only had to
say so! " He smiled, but inwardly, he was rather nervous.

He had arrived uncertain of his reception and
anxious to please. The sight of her waiting on the
steps-fleetingly he had fantasized that she waited for
him-had firmed his resolve. Really, until that
moment, he had almost convinced himself that his
sudden desire to marry her was a fancy that would
soon pass. But it was all he could do not to rush up
the steps and carry her off in his arms. Life was pretty
flat without her.

She had received him civilly at first, but in the entrance hall, he could not help but notice her evident
desire to get away from him. Indeed, he had been on
the verge of offering to go if his presence was so unpleasant to her. But that would never do-if she accepted his offer, then he would have to leave Wayborn
Hall, and that would be the end of a very good thing.

He had succeeded at least in making her laugh, and
that was his only encouragement.

Her aunt he had found rather cold to him, even
after he had confided to her that his purpose in
coming to Surrey was marriage. But that coldness, he
supposed, was to be expected after his conduct in
Hertfordshire. Lady Elkins was a good aunt, not one
of these ambitious, matchmaking females who look
only at a fellow's fortune in judging his worth. He
would have to work hard to gain her good opinion.
He congratulated himself on his suavity in that initial
interview.

And he must have made some inroads into the
old lady's heart, for had she not excused herself,
giving him the chance to be alone with Juliet?

Dear Juliet! The poor girl was trying very hard to
maintain her composure, he could tell, but clearly, she was deeply affected by his declarations of love. Cutting off his hair merely to satisfy her whim-that was
pure genius. The poor girl was trembling, but she
clung to her pride and tried to appear aloof.

"Being alone with you is precisely what I don't
want," she retorted, tossing her head. "But since no
one else can stomach you, Ginger, I suppose it is my
duty to entertain you. Or, perhaps you would prefer
to go now to pay your respects at Silvercombe? Our
stable is far from complete here, but I'm sure we
could manage to find something for you to ride."

"Silvercombe?" he repeated innocently. Thanks to
Billy, he was ready for this test of his mettle. "But you
said Lord Redfylde is not at home. Why should I go
to Silvercombe?"