A Scandalous Charade (27 page)

 “That kind of help I can do without, thank you,” she nearly spat at him.

An actress to the last, was she? Lydia really could give the chits in Drury Lane a run for their money. “So spirited, Lydia.” Luke stepped back to take in her form. “And you’ve filled out so nicely in all the right places.”

With pursed lips, she turned her back on him and stormed furiously back toward the house.

What game was she playing now? Why would Robert have her here? To keep an eye on her, probably. Had she gotten into even more trouble in Cheshire? He’d have to find out. But he wasn’t about to let her treat him with such disregard, so he called after her, “You should be nice to me, unless you want Robert to learn all your dirty little secrets.”

She didn’t even slow her gait as she sped toward the castle.

After a few moments alone in his mother’s garden, Luke strolled down the path that led to Gosling’s massive entrance. He didn’t even have to knock. Dunsley, the old family butler, greeted him with his usual dour expression and a curt nod. “Mr. Beckford.”

Well, he didn’t care if the man liked him or not. He wasn’t here to make friends—he was here to find Juliet and convince her to take him back. Luke handed his beaver hat to the old man. “Dunsley, please inform his lordship’s guest that I would like a word with her.”

The old man blinked at him. “Guest, sir?”

“Yes, guest. Lady Juliet St. Claire.”

With a bewildered look, Dunsley shook his head, “‘Tis only Lord and Lady Masten in residence. The earl has gone out to tenant cottages today and the countess has just retired to her rooms.”

Luke frowned at the old man. He was certain that Caroline meant for him to come here. That Juliet was here. Don’t be dense. Go. To. Gosling. Park. Was it possible that no one knew she was here? That seemed absurd, but he was here. And she had to be.

In retrospect, he probably shouldn’t have been such a bastard when he’d stumbled upon Lydia and just asked her. But seeing her had surprised him to no end.  However, he didn’t really need any help. He grew up here. He knew Gosling better than anyone. And he’d find her.

***

But he hadn’t found her.

He’d looked everywhere. Both towers. The dower house. The abandoned rectory. She wasn’t here, and now it was late in the day. Perhaps she was in Lulworth, or one of the tenant cottages—though truthfully he couldn’t see here there. But Caroline did send him here. There must be something he was missing. He’d have to wait and talk to Robert, whenever he returned.

Exhausted, Luke finally retired to the green salon that overlooked the garden. Even in the waning light, it still looked like it had when his mother ruled over the place, and it was so comforting to feel her presence. He needed that feeling—he just hadn’t realized it until now.

He poured himself some of whiskey from the sideboard and helped himself to one of Robert’s horse breeding periodicals—not that he was interested in such things, but there weren’t any other choices for reading material. His brother was notoriously boring.

Luke stretched out across the green and gold brocade settee and read an article about Romeo, one of the latest Ascot winners. Which of course brought his mind back to Juliet.

Suddenly, the door to the salon slammed shut. The jarring sound caused Luke to nearly jump out of his skin, sloshing some of the whiskey from his glass onto his embroidered waistcoat. He looked up in surprise to see his brother Robert, the intimidating Earl of Masten, standing before him. “Damn it, Robert. There’s no need to come blazing in here like a pack of elephants.”

Luke rolled his eyes and rested his head against the back of the settee. His brother was always so tedious. “Blister it, Robert. You know what I meant.”

Robert simply glared back at him. It was the first time Luke realized how much like their father Robert truly looked. He was tall, with golden brown hair, and angry brown eyes. Brown eyes—he could go forever without thinking about brown eyes.

“What are you doing here, Luke?” Robert demanded.

This wasn’t the time to ask about Juliet. With the way his brother was looking at him, Luke could tell he was close to being tossed out on his ear. And he couldn’t let that happen. Not yet. So, with an exasperated sigh, Luke retrieved a letter from his pocket and hurled it toward his brother who was now pacing determinedly. “Answering your summons, brother.”

Robert snatched up the letter, but didn’t bother to look down at it. “I didn’t summon you here. I told you to take care of that business with the Ridgemont pendant.”

Luke threw his head back and laughed. “Yes, thank you for your faith in me, as always.” Then he stood and dropped his glass, and the remaining amount of whiskey left in it, on the mahogany table in front of him. “I didn’t know that you’d reconciled with Lydia. Hell, Rob, I didn’t know you were on speaking terms with your fair wife.”

Robert stopped mid-pace to refocus his glare on Luke. “My relationship with my wife is none of your concern, Lucas.”

Luke shrugged, retrieved his whiskey, and motioned with a mock toast toward his brother. “Really, Rob, Lydia was much warmer with her welcome to me earlier, you know.” Not much, but some.

But that was apparently the exact wrong thing to say, because before Luke knew what had even happened, Robert had him in a choke hold. “Stay away from my wife!” he hissed. “Do you hear me, you lecherous bastard?”

Somehow Luke was able to pry his brother’s fingers from around his throat then doubled over while he gasped for breath. “Blast you, Robert!” He heaved heavily and slowly took in air. “What the devil has gotten into you?” Truly, he’d never known his brother to be physically violent.

Robert was now breathing heavily, “All I asked was that you give back the bloody pendant, Lucas. I didn’t request that you pay me a visit.”

Luke had had enough. No, he wasn’t the upstanding prig that Robert was. He was flawed with many faults, but he wasn’t a thief. And it made his blood boil that his brother thought he was. “For God’s sake, I don’t have any damned sapphire pendant.”

“Emerald,” Robert growled in response.

“Oh, well—” Luke threw his arms up in the air sardonically— “that makes all the difference, doesn’t it? Since I go around lifting all the emerald pendants I can get my hands on.” It was a good thing Robert didn’t know about the two sapphire hair pins that were currently in Luke’s coat pocket, or he’d never believe that.

The two of them stood there, just sizing the other one up. Then finally Robert sank into a sage and cream colored chintz chair and shook his head. “So, then tell me this—why would Lady Ridgemont accuse you, Luke?”

Revenge. Power. To simply be a bitch. Instead he shrugged his answer, and settled for the unemotional truth. “Louisa is put out that I’ve broken things off with her.” Then he fell back on the settee and rested his elbows on his knees. “She’s got some Bow Street blighter dogging my every step and now she’s got you beckoning me all the way to Dorset.”

“I did not beckon you to Dorset.”

True, but he couldn’t let his brother make him leave. With a sheepish grin, Luke stared across the room at Robert. “Perhaps not, but do you mind if I stay for a while? I’m trying to keep as far away from Louisa as possible at the moment.”

Robert heaved a sigh and glared at Luke. “You know, none of this would be necessary if you could just keep that prick of yours where it belongs.”

That was an understatement, and Luke threw back his head and laughed. “Leave it to you, Robert, to cut to the chase. But what do you say, old man? I need a place to stay for a while.”

“You’re not a young blade anymore, Luke. It’s way past time you settled down. Go back to London, end things with Lady Ridgemont, and grow the devil up.”

Robert frowned as if the decision pained him. Then he finally nodded.  “Fine. But just a few days. And I want you to stay far away from Lydia.”

 “I wouldn’t dream of bothering her.” Truly, he wouldn’t.

“See that you don’t or you’ll answer to me. And in the meantime, I expect you to send at note to Mr. Cooper, the Bow Street blighter you mentioned earlier. I won’t harbor a fugitive.”

“You’re the best, Robert. I always say so.”

With a shake of his head, Robert strode purposefully from the room, leaving Luke to stare after him. Something odd was going on here.

***

Luke had known Robert all his life. He had watched his older brother perform his duties without complaint and live up to the standards society expected of him. And over the years Luke had come to believe certain things about Robert. One was that his upstanding brother always did the right thing. And another was that watching a patch of grass grow was more exciting than boring old Robert. From the earliest of ages Luke had decided to not follow in his older brother’s high moral footsteps—life was to be enjoyed, not endured.

However, tonight as he sat in the dining hall at Gosling Park, Luke discovered something else about his brother, something he’d never realized before—Robert was a giant fool. How was it that he’d known his brother for more than thirty years and he was just now seeing that Robert was such a dim-witted dolt?

It was nauseating to watch his brother continually cast Lydia mooncalf gazes across the table. And it was equally disturbing to listen to the earl and countess laugh together like a pair of giddy, smitten fools. What the devil was going on here?

Luke narrowed his eyes on his sister-in-law. It was obvious that she was the answer to all of his questions. Somehow this deceitful, little witch had cast some sort of spell on Robert. That was the only explanation that made any sense—because the man sitting at the head of this table was a complete stranger to Luke. Though he looked like Robert, there was no way that man was his brother. Not by a long shot.

~ 21 ~

She had been traveling for days in a coach with Peter and Penny Harris, Jonathan Kistler, and Mrs. Norris, and Juliet was anxious to make it to Gosling Park. After they’d left the coaching inn the day before, they’d been followed for quite a while by a couple of rough looking men on horseback. The children had been certain the fellows were highway men, but Juliet felt in the pit of her stomach they were looking for her. Though in the end, the men turned back and nothing else of interest had occurred on the journey, other than they had to make numerous stops due to poor Peter’s weak stomach. However, she didn’t think she could rest easily until they safely arrived at their destination.

Mrs. Norris had continued to offer the children wrapped lemon candies, which they were thrilled to get. The old nurse wasn’t terribly bright, in Juliet’s opinion, but she was rather sweet. Kistler, on the other hand, was grating on many levels. The irritable valet complained nearly non-stop and looked down his nose at everyone. Juliet had to force herself from putting the man in his place, but a quiet governess would never do such a thing, and keeping her identity a secret was of the utmost importance. She wouldn’t risk Edmund’s future for anything.

Finally, they entered through the large retaining wall and Juliet released an anxious breath. They were almost there. Thank Heavens! Moments later, the coach came to an abrupt stop and everyone piled out. Juliet was left nearly speechless as she stared at a castle that seemed to reach to the sky.

Since only Kistler had ever stepped foot in Gosling Park, all eyes turned to him. With an elitist look down his nose at the group, the valet marched around the corner and into a small door at the base of the castle with everyone else on his heels. Immediately, they were assaulted by the most scrumptious smells. Biscuits. Ham. And some sort of tart, perhaps cherry? They were in the kitchens—two massive rooms with a cook and two scullery maids already preparing dinner.

Juliet had never been in a kitchen before, but if they all smelled this delightful, she’d make it a habit to visit more often. No one had eaten particularly well on the road, and the scents from this room made even Kistler’s prissy stomach grumble. But before anyone could snatch even the tiniest of morsels, an elderly man dressed in livery stood at the main door. He had silver hair and kindly blue eyes that twinkled as he smiled at the children. “Master Peter and Miss Penelope, I presume.”

“Penny,” Penny corrected.

The old man winked at her. “I’m Dunsley. Allow me to lead you to your rooms.” Then he glanced at Juliet. “Miss Mitford?” When she nodded, he looked at the nurse. “And Mrs. Norris?”

“Yes, indeed,” the nurse answered.

Dunsley held the door wide and gestured them through. “Welcome to Gosling Park. I’m certain you must be exhausted from your trip.”

***

Where the devil was Robert? Luke frowned down at the slowly cooling baked eggs on the plate in front of him. He’d wanted to talk to his brother ever since dinner the night before. At first he thought he could grab Robert’s ear during after-dinner port, but his brother had done away with that formality—saying something inane about not wanting Lydia to be left alone. Robert always had after-dinner port.

True, Luke hadn’t dined with his brother in well over a year, but some things never change. Some people always stood on ceremony—Robert was one of those people.

And another thing, Robert was always up at the crack of dawn. Luke looked down again at his pocket watch. It was well past noon already, nearly one o’clock. Where in the world was the always dependable Earl of Masten? It was certainly not like his brother to keep Town hours in Dorset. Honestly, it wasn’t like Robert to keep Town hours in Town.