A Scandalous Charade (24 page)

~ 18 ~

Susan Clarke didn’t know what to do. She was supposed to be on a leisurely walk in the park with her maid, but she desperately needed Juliet’s sage advice. So she’d bribed her maid, with chocolate, not to reveal that they were actually going to pay a social call on Upper Brook Street. Her mother wouldn’t like that, as she was convinced that Juliet filled Susan’s mind with nonsense and unorthodox ideas. But to Susan, Juliet was the only one who really understood her. However, her mentor hadn’t been at any functions since the Hollingsworth Ball, and Susan was starting to get a bit desperate.

She strolled along the street, avoiding eye contact with everyone. If she didn’t look at anyone, she wouldn’t have to speak to them. The only person Susan really wanted to speak to was Juliet. She would advise her.

Susan had almost convinced herself that she was prepared to be Lady Haywood. She could ignore Will’s insensitive comments about her background. After they were married she’d be a baroness and none of that would matter, or so she told herself. She could pretend that he cared for her and not her fortune. After all, that was expected of women in her position.

But she didn’t think she could live with his other interests. She’d heard rumblings about Will’s gambling habit and that was a bit distressing. Her fortune was vast, but not bottomless. She’d also witnessed him embracing an actress after a play they’d seen together, when he was supposed to be getting her a glass of punch. That was truly hurtful.

Susan had a lot to consider, she didn’t have to marry Haywood, after all. There were certainly other men who would jump at the opportunity to marry a rich man’s daughter. Perhaps someone with whom she was a better match. Getting Juliet’s advice was imperative.

Just as she and her maid were approaching Prestwick House, Susan tripped over her own foot and went tumbling to the ground. Or she would have, but out of nowhere, at least in her mind, she was scooped up in midair and placed safely back on her clumsy feet.

Breathing a sigh of relief, Susan stared up into the lightest, crystal blue eyes she’d ever seen on a gentleman and her breath rushed from her body. He was of average height and slender build, with sandy blond hair that was a bit too long to be fashionable. His clothes were years out of style, but his smile was perfect. “Are you all right, Miss?”

She felt a blush stain her cheeks and nodded dumbly, wishing to high heaven that she had an ounce of her mother’s grace. “Yes. Thank you, sir.”

What a strange question. They were standing right in front of Prestwick House, after all. Susan furrowed her brow. “Is she not at home?”

His face softened and he shook his head. “Sorry.”

Susan pouted. “Drat. I so needed her advice.” What was she to do now?

***

Hugh couldn’t help but smile at the pretty, dark haired girl. Her brow crinkled in a most charming way and she seemed to have no artifice at all. He could clearly see every emotion that crossed her face—surprise, confusion, anxiety. But really, he needed to move her along, on the off chance that she knew something about Juliet that could lead to wherever his cousin was hiding. If his father stumbled on this girl, her secrets would be as plain as the delightful, pert, little nose on her face. “I’d be happy to offer you mine.”

The lovely blush deepened on the girl’s cheeks, and Hugh’s smile grew wider.  What an enchanting creature she was.

“I—I don’t think that will be necessary, Mr. St. Claire. Th—thank you, again.” She motioned to where she’d stumbled, then smiled one last time before hurrying off in the direction of Park Lane, a mousy maid trailing after her.

Hugh watched her vanishing form, hips swaying from side to side, and he mentally groaned. He should be focusing on ways to protect Juliet, not lusting after some pretty girl whose name he didn’t even know.

He climbed the steps to Prestwick House and entered. Immediately, he heard his father’s bellowing voice echoing off the walls. “I don’t care how you go about it. She needs to be found!”

With a frown, Hugh started down the corridor toward the conversation in the blue parlor. A large, swarthy looking man was grunting some answer that Hugh couldn’t quite make out. Honestly, where had his father found this man? The docks? He shivered, thinking about Juliet in this man’s clutches.  He needed to make sure that she wasn’t found, wherever she was.

Hugh cleared his throat. “Father, I was under the impression that Prestwick House was in mourning over the loss of dear cousin Georgina.”

After the man lumbered out of the room, Lord Albert banged his cane on the ground, as if he hadn’t had Hugh’s complete attention in the first place. “I’ll thank you to not involve yourself with the running of this home. Althea will see to it that proper mourning will be conducted. Your attentions are needed elsewhere.”

“Indeed?” Hugh frowned. He really couldn’t allow himself to be sent away, as he needed to keep abreast of the operations here.

“Indeed. There are stacks of invitations waiting to be answered. Figure out which events will be the most attended and then do so yourself. If Juliet had any friends she’d go to for help, you can probably sort that out by getting to know them.”

Hugh’s mouth fell open. He certainly hadn’t expected that.

***

The Ashburn ball was bursting at the seams, and the room was larger than most. It was a crush by anyone’s standards. Thomas Clarke looked around at the upper echelons of society, all the people who knew they were better than him. Over the years he’d felt guilty that he’d deprived his lovely Lucy from her rightful place in society, and he’d worked diligently to give her everything her heart desired—including a title for their daughter. But as he stared at his dear Susan clinging to the arm of that foppish baron, Haywood, he inwardly cringed. The man was far from what he would have chosen for his little girl. He had hoped she’d find an honorable man that he could leave his businesses to, one that wouldn’t squander his life’s work. Work—such a dirty word to these people.

Still, it was fairly disappointing that she’d seemed to settle on Haywood. The man didn’t have much going for him beyond a pretty face. He turned his attention to where the baron spun Susan on the floor during a country dance of some sort. Truly she didn’t even seem that happy.

“She is quite lovely,” came a voice from beside him.

Thomas Clarke turned his attention to a young man with light colored hair in outdated, fairly shabby evening clothes. “I beg your pardon?”

The man blushed. “My apologies. You seemed to be staring at that pretty girl with black hair. I was simply remarking that she is quite lovely.”

Apparently the fellow didn’t know who Thomas was, which was strange. Everyone knew who Thomas Clarke was, and they took great pains to avoid him.  “It doesn’t bother you that her father is in trade?”

The light haired man seemed bewildered by the comment and shook his head. “Why should that bother me? I don’t even know the girl.”

Before he could ask the young man anything else, his daughter and Haywood had joined them since the dance had come to an end. “There’s my angel.” He said and dropped a kiss on Susan’s cheek.

How interesting. Mr. St. Claire had said he didn’t know Susan. Thomas was re-adjusting his opinion of the man. Why would he lie about such a thing? “You’re already acquainted?”

“No.” Susan blushed. “I was clumsy the other day and Mr. St. Claire saved me from tumbling to the ground.”

“If you watched where you were going,” Haywood began, looking at Susan, “you wouldn’t stumble nearly as often.”

When Thomas saw the hurt expression settle on his daughter’s face, he was tempted to throttle the baron right there in front of everyone. But he didn’t need to as Mr. St. Claire took matters into his own hands. The young man smiled warmly at Susan. “Oh, I don’t know. There’s too much going on to focus simply on where you’re going. You’ll miss half the world if you don’t look around a bit.”

He might be a mere mister, but Thomas liked Hugh St. Claire more all the time.  The young man had handled that situation much better than he would have, and Susan was grinning up at the lad.

“Mr. St. Claire, is Lady Juliet in attendance this evening?” Susan asked, while her dark eyes twinkled at him.

Hugh St. Claire’s jaw tightened and he shook his head. “I’m afraid not, Miss…Clarke, is it?” Upon her nod, he continued, “Honestly, we don’t know where she is. After Lady Teynham fell ill and passed away, my cousin Juliet disappeared. I’m certain it is her anguish over the situation, so I am quite concerned for her safety. That is actually why I’ve come to Town. To look for her. You don’t happen to know who her friends are, do you? I’ve had a terrible time locating anyone.”

“She doesn’t have any,” Haywood barked, apparently unmoved by the fact that a gently bred girl was all alone somewhere. That was a bit eye opening for Thomas and he leveled his gaze on the baron.

***

“I beg your pardon.” Hugh turned his attention to the young lord who had been fairly unkind to Miss Clarke just moments earlier.

“Juliet St. Claire,” Haywood began, “is an icy chit who thinks herself above everyone. She doesn’t have any friends.”

He certainly knew that aspect of his cousin. But still, there must be someone. Certainly she would have told him she had nowhere to go, if that was the case. Though Hugh was starting to worry about her in earnest. What if she hadn’t made it to London? And if she truly had no friends, who would she turn to for help?

“There is Mr. Beckford,” Miss Clarke supplied helpfully.

Ah, yes. The rogue who had compromised Juliet and left her bruised. Hugh started to respond, but Haywood was shaking his head. “Luke Beckford’s out of Town. He’s been gone since before Lady Juliet departed. Besides I’m fairly certain they’ve ended their friendship.” Then he grasped Miss Clarke’s hand and started to tow her away from them. “Come along, my dear, we should go and pay our respects to my sister.”

But Miss Clarke shook out of his hold and smiled sweetly. “Do go on without me, my lord. I’m quite concerned about Lady Juliet and would like to stay here.”

Haywood didn’t even bother to hide his annoyance. “Suit yourself.” Then with a disapproving frown, he stared at her, shook his head, and turned into the crowd, vanishing.

Miss Clarke gently touched Hugh’s sleeve, and stared at him with those pretty blue eyes of hers. “She is a friend of mine, and I thought she was very nice. Is there anything I can do, Mr. St. Claire?”

“Indeed!” Thomas Clarke seconded. “It’s awful to think no one knows where the girl is. I’d be happy to lend you men or assistance.”

Men or assistance. Juliet could have been helped by the Clarkes. Hugh wondered why she hadn’t gone to them, and he was certain she hadn’t. Miss Clarke’s face would reveal all. So whom would she go to? “That’s very generous of you, Mr. Clarke. If you can think of anyone she was close to, that would be a great help.”

“Lady Staveley,” Miss Clarke softly suggested. “When Mr. Beckford was courting Juliet, his sister, Lady Staveley, was often around. Other than that, I don’t know. Lord Haywood is right about one thing, she was alone most of the time before that. Like I was.”

Hugh had a hard time believing that last part. Miss Clarke was exceedingly lovely. How could she have ever lacked for company?

“Excuse me for a moment,” Thomas Clarke remarked, and then he stepped into the throng of people, leaving Hugh to stare after his departing form.

“How long has she been gone?” Miss Clarke’s sweet voice brought his attention back to her.

“Nearly a fortnight,” Hugh answered, staring down at the pretty girl who had occupied his thoughts since she’d stumbled into his path a few days before. He was certain he shouldn’t be doing this. He should remain focused on Juliet. But he had to know. “What is your Christian name, Miss Clarke?”

She blinked up at him, that familiar blush settling once again on her delightful cheeks. “S—Susan.”

“Susan.” He smiled for the first time in days.  At least now he’d have a name to go along with his fantasies.  “Are you allowed to waltz?”

She shyly nodded, and Hugh’s smile widened.

“Then will you do me the honors, Miss Susan Clarke?” And he offered her his arm.

***

Hugh sailed up the steps to Prestwick House, with thoughts of Miss Susan Clarke floating around his mind. There was never a girl more lovely. Just holding her in his arms as they waltzed across the room had made his heart race. She’d smelled of lilacs, and…