Three Times the Scandal (17 page)

“
Violence has always been curiously persuasive, Giles. Ask Neddy about that. But no, that’s far from my only news.” Darleston chucked the morning paper across the floor so that it landed on the hearthrug by Fortuna’s feet.

Giles picked it up. “Reward for a missing daughter? Kidnapping?” he asked.

“
Neither. It’s more interesting than that. The society pages,” said Darleston, as he tapped one of his long fingers to his lips, “second column, about halfway down.”

Giles shook open the paper and turned to the relevant part. “Mr. and Mrs. Allen—.” Dovecote broke off, and stared at Fortuna. Slowly, his gaze drifted back to Darleston. “This is ridiculous. What do they expect to achieve by it?”

“
What is it?” Fortuna tugged at the edge of the broadsheet.

“
I think perhaps it would be best if you read it yourself.” Giles spread the newspaper over the occasional table by the window and tapped his finger to the relevant piece of print. Fortuna followed the words, stopping after the first sentence to re-read it twice before continuing to the end. It was short, factual.

All the heat leeched from her skin.

“
I didn’t agree to this. How could they? I distinctly told him I wouldn’t.” She stared at the two men in bewilderment, watched their lips move, but couldn’t hear their words over the drumming of her heartbeat in her ears. “No. I won’t have this.” She scrunched the page into her fist, then ran to the fire and tossed it in.

“
Fortuna,” Giles soothed. He laid a hand upon her upper arm. “Succumbing to hysteria won’t help. Besides, the engagement is meaningless. It’s a gentleman’s agreement, nothing more. You’re of age, are you not?”

She nodded, but the gesture quickly changed into a shake. “You don’t understand. I fled with you because I knew they’d attempt to coax me, but always the final decision lay with me. Oh, they’d persuade me. They’d make life difficult. But this bypasses me entirely.”

“
Parents arrange marriages all the time.” Darleston pushed himself upright, off the chair. “Giles is correct. The announcement changes nothing. You have to be present for a wedding to proceed, and I don’t think you’re about to meet Macleane in a chapel.”

“
It’s nonsensical,” said Fortuna, with a stamp of her foot. “They can hardly expect to coax me out of hiding with it, when it’s what I left to avoid.”

Giles stroked his fingers through the flaxen strands of her hair. “I don’t think that’s their intention. I think they’re trying to minimize the damage to the family name. Eventually, word of your absence will get out. This just tells everyone that you’re already married off, so not to worry about it. No, what concerns me about this is that it tells us Macleane is still as determined as ever to secure your hand. Why? Most men would have abandoned you by now and Macleane’s a famous preacher of maidenly virtues. And whoever heard of a woman going astray to return with her chastity intact?”

“
Not I,” drawled Darleston. “I’d say the plan is obvious. She returns, marries Macleane. Society forgives. It’s remarkable what deviances are tolerated providing a wedding band is in place.”

“
Except I won’t marry him.”

Darleston’s thin lips stretched into a bemused smile. “Then accept that you are going to be publicly shunned for the rest of your days.”

“
Robert!” Giles barked.

Darleston shrugged his broad shoulders. “The truth,” he mumbled.

The truth. It was unfortunately so, Fortuna thought, her hands pressed to her lips. She wanted to stay here and love Giles, but she couldn’t hide from the world forever. Eventually, she would have to leave his house, and she didn’t want to be shunned by her family for the rest of her days. Already she missed Alicia’s companionship, Gabriel’s moodiness and even Mae’s vexing coquetry.

Giles snatched up the poker and began to jab it into the fire amongst the newspaper ash. “There’s something fishy about Macleane’s part in this. His two previous wives were pious angels. Still, honouring the deal he’s made with your father when you’re obviously no longer intact, just doesn’t make sense. He could easily break it off. He wants you for some really special reason.”

“
Maybe he’s had a change of heart, and he’s heard about Fortuna’s talent for sin,” Darleston remarked. “She does have a spectacular talent for description. You know more lewd words than the whore I bedded yester eve.”

Fortuna twisted her hands together. “Don’t slight me.” Her sharp tone caused Giles to jolt. His gaze flickered back and forth between Fortuna and Darleston’s faces.

“
You’re not perfect, yourself,” Fortuna continued. “Why you have a reputation quite as black as Lucifer’s.”

Darleston clapped his hands gave a mocking laugh. “Yes, that devil, Darleston. I know who I am.” His voice sank into a completely filthy drawl, which she felt as a purr beneath her skin. “The remark was not intended as a criticism, Miss Allenthorpe. I enjoy hearing your lewd talk, and can’t tell you how much I’m anticipating hearing you describe how it felt to be crushed between Giles and Neddy.”

Fortuna glanced at Giles in alarm and saw his brow furrow.

“
Leave her alone, Robert.” He pressed his thumbnail between his teeth, and chewed nervously.

Fortuna shivered. Lord Darleston placed all her senses on edge, yet there was something about him that fascinated her too. Perhaps, the fact that he always seemed so at ease, and so lazily confident. He could have forced himself on her that first night in the hallway, and she probably wouldn’t have pushed him away, but he hadn’t. Instead, he kept scratching at her, like a mean tomcat.

“
What are you worth?” Darleston asked. He rose and paced a leisurely circle around her. “You must be worth something, or have something that Macleane wants. Something that’s more important, and enticing than your virtue.”

Giles looked up, and both men’s gazes fastened expectantly upon her.

“
I don’t own anything of value.” She stared imploringly at Giles, her hands tightly clenched. “My dowry is pitiful. Remember, I’m one of nine. There’s not much to go around when it’s split between so many. So, it can’t be that.” In all honesty she could not think of a single thing she possessed that would attract a fortune-hunter.

Lord Darleston’s grey eyes twinkled, his expressive lips quirked at both corners. “I’ll wager ten guineas it is.”

“
Then you will lose ten guineas.”

“
You own not a thing, not a single thing a man might be interested in, beside whatever pittance you’re father sees fit to offer up?”

“
Nothing? No deathbed gifts from obscure relatives?”

“
No.” Fortuna began shaking her head, then turned away from them, her clasped hands pressed to her lips. “Well…perhaps, yes. There is one thing, which my godfather left to me, but it’s worthless, of sentimental value only. Mr Pimcock died penniless.”

Neddy bounded into the room, his clothing still awry, although Leach appeared to have fixed his cravat. “Gosh, why so serious? Breakfast’s set.” He offered his arm to Fortuna. “Shall we?” She took it, glad to shake off the feeling of dread if only for a moment.

Fortuna sat down to a breakfast of poached eggs with the three men, still confounded by what Sir Hector could possibly want from her. She owned nothing beyond a few minor trinkets and a collection of dresses and accoutrements that for the most part had already seen too many outings.

“
This godfather of yours,” Giles waggled his fork at her. “Tell us about him.” Clearly intrigued, three set of eyes fastened upon her. Fortuna set down her cutlery. She only wished there were something of interest to tell. “He was mama’s brother. And he didn’t leave me anything you’d consider a treasure trove. No money or property, not even functional dinner service or a walnut bureau. He died ten months back, but it took a while for the news to reach us from India.”

“
India—what was he doing there?”

“
Rats!” Neddy interjected.

“
Excuse me?” said Fortuna, turning to face the younger Darleston. Despite having been dressed little over an hour he looked severely dishevelled. His hair stuck up on one side. Neddy raised his hands to ward off their attention, and began dabbing at the egg yolk he’d spilled upon his waistcoat. “Didn’t mean to interrupt. I knew there was a reason why we always have Cook overdo these things.”

Darleston slowly shook his head, barely stirring the red hair that reached his shoulders. “No, Ned, it isn’t deliberate, she’s just can’t manage eggs.”

Giles pushed his empty plate away and swung back in his chair, tipping it onto its back legs. He pressed his index fingers together and began tapping them to his lips. “Your godfather, Mr.— Remind me.”

“
James Pimcock.” Fortuna supplied.

“
Never heard of him,” mumbled Neddy.

Darleston lay down his knife and fork. “Name sounds vaguely familiar.”

“
My mother’s younger brother,” Fortuna supplied. “Not very like her except for the sandy hair. Except, he never had a lot of it, and he never wore a wig except to court.”

The description failed to spark any further recognition from Darleston, who gave an eloquent shrug and returned to his breakfast. “What did he do, besides die penniless in India? And what did he actually leave you?”

“
He retired there ten years ago, after Aunt Hattie’s death, to his pursue his hobbies. He was devoted to her, and once she was gone he ploughed all his attention into his rocks and fossils. He was rather scholarly about the natural world. Always had pockets full of rocks and crystals, which he used to stir up whenever he grew nervous. They made the most annoying clacking sound that used to drive Mama quite insane. He once gave me the most beautiful piece of snowflake obsidian that he had just found. Father had it worked into a brooch when I came of age.”

“
Well there at least is a connection,” remarked Neddy. “Both Macleane and this Mr. Pimcock are enamoured of tasteless rocks. Clearly, Macleane’s after this snowflake brooch.”

“
Tenuous,” remarked Darleston between sips of ale, his storm-grey eyes flicking between upon Fortuna and his brother. “I hardly think Macleane’s after a piece of snowflake obsidian.”

“
What—do you think he’s more of a carnelian or sodalite sort?”

“
Neddy.” Darleston left the table and strolled to the window nursing his tankard in his palm. “I assume this brooch isn’t actually the trinket he left you. So, what is?”

Fortuna left the table and joined Darleston by the window. Outside the temperature was finally rising and patches of green showed through the melting snow. Specks of purple too stood out against the white, a few early crocuses rearing their heads. She lifted an oriental vase from the windowsill and turned it carefully within her palms. “He left me Aunt Hattie’s necklace, the Star of Fortune.”

Neddy spluttered tea over the tablecloth. “Now,
that
I’ve heard of! Ain’t it an enormous star ruby? No bloody wonder he’s after you.” Giles was on his feet immediately and Darleston’s hand closed tightly around her wrist.

“
It’s paste!” she squeaked, seeing flames ignite in all three sets of eyes. “It’s just a keepsake, dressed up as a wedding gift. Mr. Pimcock was a great believer in love. He loved Aunt Hattie, you see. They married despite objections from both families and were devoted to one another.” She coughed a little to clear her throat. Darleston refused to release her wrist and Giles and Neddy were hanging on her every word. “My great grandfather sold the original. It’s partly why Mr. Pimcock went out to India. He was obsessed with reacquiring the real Star of Fortune. Instead, he lost all his wealth in the attempt.”

Judging by Giles’s expression he wasn’t entirely convinced. Gone was his mask of rakish insouciance and in its place a cynical thoughtful air. “You’re absolutely certain that it’s a fake?”

She nodded. “Of course. What few possessions my godfather had when he died were sold off and the monies bequeathed to my brother, Gabriel. I don’t believe it was more than a few hundred pounds.”

Giles clapped a hand upon Darleston’s shoulder. “Ease off a little, my friend.”

Darleston finally released her, though he’d left a red impression of his fingers around her wrist. “Where is this necklace of yours? Have you actually seen it?”

“
The Star of Fortune is held in trust. The family solicitors, Knapsley & Cox have it. I told you, my godfather intended it as a gift. I don’t receive it until I marry.”

“
I’m assuming he anticipated that union would be a love match?”

Fortuna gave Darleston a wary glance. That was exactly how Mr. Pimcock had intended the gift. The Star had been a symbol of his and dear Aunt Hattie’s love. He’d wanted her to be equally enamoured of her spouse, and he’d wanted her to bear the gem after which she’d been named. Mr. Pimcock would much rather have seen her pledging her love to the man who had so far done his best to make her happy and protect her, than to Sir Hector Macleane. The notion of standing in church and swearing obedience to that hideous boor of a man threatened to reacquaint her with her breakfast.

Yes, her godfather would much rather have seen her walk down the aisle with a man she believed she’d enjoy sharing her life with. Sadly, the man she believed that to be, had no interest in ever burdening himself in that respect.

Giles resumed thoughtfully tapping his fingers to his lips. Fortuna sneaked a hasty glance at him. The light streaming in from the garden painted golden streaks in the brown of his hair, yet it failed to soften the determined set of his jaw. What dark thoughts were troubling him? Did he truly believe that the Star of Fortune was the key to her woes? She reached out to touch his face, but her fingers never made contact, for he grasped her fingertips and enfolded them within his palm.