A Scandalous Charade (7 page)

At that, Luke grinned. “My dear William, that is easily rectified. I have it on the highest authority that Miss Clarke will be attending the Danbury Fete tonight, and I’ve acquired invitations for both of us. My cousin, Livvie, can arrange for an introduction. She knows everyone. Oh, and I nearly forgot. Miss Clarke is a great lover of the theatre. Best to have common interests, if nothing else—or so I’m told.”

“Why?” Will asked with a furrowed his brow. Then he tipped his glass back and downed the rest of his whiskey.

Luke tried not to laugh. “Because, you dolt, if you marry the girl you’ll be living with her for the rest of your life. You may as well get a companion out of the deal.”

With a deflated shrug, Will glanced back toward the hazard table. “If she has all the money you say she does, I don’t know why I’d have to live with her at all.”

And he’d thought Juliet was mercenary? “William, there is one more important note I forgot to mention about Miss Clarke.”

“Oh? And what’s that? Has she only got one leg, or a third eye, or something?”

Luke shook his head and pushed his empty glass to the middle of the table. “Her father wants her to have a happy marriage. So, if I were you, I would lose the smug attitude and try to figure out how to be as charming as possible. She’s not as cool as Lady Juliet, but your title alone won’t snare the chit—or her father.”

Will looked aghast at the happy marriage comment and fell back into his seat with a thud. His luck had gone from bad to worse.

***

Across town in her father’s rented townhouse, chills raced across Susan Clarke’s body and she shuddered involuntarily. “How strange.”

“What is, darling?” her mother asked as she gracefully entered the parlor.

Susan wished that she could do anything gracefully, but she was a far cry from her mother. Though she had her mother’s slender form, black hair, and aristocratic nose, their similarities were only skin deep. Susan was her father’s daughter and, like her father, she was struggling hard to fit into a world in which she didn’t belong.

“Nothing, Mama. Just a feeling.”

“You and your feelings, Susan,” her mother remarked with a dismissive shake of her head. “I hope you’re not going to try and wriggle out of another social event. Your father is expecting you to attend the Danbury Fete tonight with no complaints.”

Susan resisted the urge to roll her eyes. The Danbury Fete. That meant the pretty and sophisticated Olivia Danbury and her perfect friends would be present, and Susan had no wish to be compared to them. Besides… “But, Mama, you said that we could go to Drury Lane tonight.”

Her mother sighed, folded her arms across her chest, and narrowed her icy blue eyes on Susan. “We are going to the Danbury Fete, and I wouldn’t push your father were I you.”

Susan cringed. She’d so had her heart set on Drury Lane, and now she’d have to rub shoulders with Olivia Danbury, Cordelia Avery, and Henrietta Babbitt. That was sure to be complete torture. Susan would be surprised if a more silly trio existed in all of England. She was certain that the men normally swarming around them didn’t have pound-signs floating in their minds.

She hung her shoulders in defeat. Once her parents had their minds set on something, there was no convincing them otherwise. She’d just have to make do and find some solitary corner to hide in.

***

The Danbury Fete was, indeed, a crush. There simply wasn’t another word for the event. Members of society were stuffed into every conceivable corner of the townhouse. Luke was certain his Aunt Jane would be thrilled with the success of her little gala.

After depositing Will in the game room, Luke went in search of his cousin, Olivia, all the while keeping an eye out for Juliet. How he would love to bump into her here, perhaps steal another kiss—but so far no luck.

He fared better in his search for Livvie. His young cousin, adorned in a sparkling white dress, was entertaining several friends near the refreshment table in the drawing room. Livvie was a clever girl, and Luke had always enjoyed her quick wit, which apparently those in her party also appreciated, as they were laughing at something his cousin had just uttered. Though Luke generally avoided the marriage mart like the plague, even he had heard mention of Livvie in his clubs. Though it was just her debut season, she apparently was taking London by storm.

Olivia’s thick, auburn hair was knotted and curled over one shoulder and her intelligent, hazel eyes twinkled mischievously, just like Caroline’s did whenever she was up to no good. This was not the first time Luke had thought how similar Olivia was to Caroline—the men of London should proceed with caution in her presence. But he was family, and therefore immune to Livvie’s charms.

With a lazy saunter, Luke approached Livvie’s group and easily caught her attention. Olivia smiled broadly, revealing a charming dimple in her left cheek. “Lucas! Whatever are you doing here?”

He greeted her with a wink and then a quick peck on the cheek. “Aunt Jane does invite me to these sorts of things, Olivia.”

“Of course she does. Mama just never expects you to attend.” She grinned devilishly at him. “I believe she is under the impression that you’re always off doing something a bit more wicked.”

Luke smirked at that. Leave it to Livvie to cut to the chase. “Wicked? You’ve deeply wounded me, cousin. I am the picture of propriety.”

Olivia glanced at her friends and then nodded her head, following Luke into the adjacent music room. “This must be important, for you to actually attend Mama’s fete.”

There was no use in beating around the bush with Olivia. It was best to just ask for exactly what he wanted. “I need an introduction, Livvie, and I’d prefer not to bring it to the attention of Aunt Jane.” His aunt would only tell Caroline, and then everything would be much more difficult.

Livvie nodded in understanding. It was so good to have relations that were helpful. “Who do you want to meet, Luke?”

“I need you to introduce Lord Haywood to Miss Susan Clarke. I don’t know the young lady myself.”

“Well, I should think not,” Livvie remarked as she bit her lip. “Miss Clarke is a bit shy, not your usual sort. She’s a wallflower, for lack of a better term. What is it Lord Haywood wants with her? Love you as I do, even I’m not up to throwing young virgins to the wolves.”

Luke couldn’t help but grin. Olivia always sounded older than her years would indicate. “You’d best watch your tongue, Livvie, just in case Aunt Jane is about. But if you must know, if things go as planned, I believe his lordship will offer to marry Miss Clarke. Does that ease your troubled mind?”

She winked at him. “I believe that will do. Gather Lord Haywood and meet me back in the drawing room in ten minutes.”

Luke started back toward the gaming room, only to find Haywood glued to his seat and absorbed in a game of piquet opposite the notoriously lucky Marquess of Astwick, a large, hulking giant of a man who never lost at cards. Haywood really did have the worst sort of luck when in it came to gambling. No one played against the affable marquess—no one sober, anyway.

“Chet.” Luke nodded to Haywood’s opponent in greeting. As an old friend of the family, he had known Astwick most of his life.

The large marquess leaned back in his seat and smirked at him. “Lucas Beckford! As I live and breathe. Didn’t know you were still alive.”

“Alive and well. Sorry to disappoint you, old man,” Luke replied evenly.

Astwick’s light green eyes danced with merriment and he chuckled loudly—Astwick did everything loudly. “So I see. I’m sure Masten will be relieved.”

At the mention of his older brother, Luke grimaced. He generally preferred not to talk to or about Robert, as such conversations tended to leave him a headache. Besides he needed to extract Haywood from Astwick’s clutches to meet Miss Clarke. Time was of the essence. “Chet, I need to steal your opponent, as he’s needed in the drawing room.”

Astwick furrowed his brow. “You can have him when I’m finished with him.”

“Come now. He’ll write you a marker for whatever he owes you, and you can settle up later.” It wasn’t even possible that Will had been winning.

Astwick guffawed. “It’s not the settling, Luke, it’s the challenge of winning.”

Luke sighed and leaned toward the large marquess. “Truly, there’s no challenge here. Take the young whelp’s vowels and find yourself a more worthy opponent.”

With a suspicious grin, Astwick sat back in his seat, his arms folded across his massive chest. “What are you up to? Knowing you it can’t be good.”

Will groaned to his left. Though Luke ignored the sound, Astwick did not. With raised eyebrows, the marquess smirked at Haywood. “You sound as excited about the prospect as I would be. So what’s it to be, Haywood? Piquet or women?”

Luke turned his attention to his young friend and remarked meaningfully, “Miss Clarke awaits, Will.”

Will nodded, unenthusiastically. “Duty calls, I’m afraid, Astwick.”

Luke was certain the marquess’ booming laugh could be heard five miles away. Astwick motioned for Will to stand. “Go on then. Meet your fate, Haywood. Perhaps the young lady will have more mercy on you than I would have.” Though to let Will leave the table unscathed had been merciful enough.

Will scrambled to his feet, while Luke slowly stood. “Until next time, Chet.”

Astwick pushed his cards to the middle of the table and grinned at Luke. “Arranging for introductions to young ladies? And I thought Caroline was the matchmaker in your family.”

Luke shrugged. “I’m a man of many talents.”

***

These sorts of events were exceedingly painful, at least in Susan’s mind. The upper crust of London’s society sitting together, drinking together, and trying to determine which of them was the cleverest. She couldn’t care at all about any of it. They were all false and disingenuous in her opinion, but Papa was determined that she make a good match for herself. And if he got his way, she could look forward to evenings like this for the rest of her days. What a depressing thought, indeed.

As she was bumped into and nearly knocked to the floor by one esteemed member of the ton or another, Susan tried to find a safe place to stay out of the way until her parents were ready to return home. She had just managed to find a nice, quiet chair in the library when the sickeningly perfect Olivia Danbury happened upon her.

“Miss Clarke!” Olivia smiled at her. “You can’t be off hiding in the library. You must come with me instead. There’s a group of us in the drawing room.”

Susan couldn’t imagine what would make this year’s Incomparable suddenly wish to be her friend. It wasn’t that Olivia was ever unkind to her, on the contrary she was always quite friendly. But Olivia, in Susan’s opinion, was silly and associated with silly people. Though a part of her wished she could be more like the popular Miss Danbury and her friends—more self-assured and confident. Carefree.

Susan was none of those things.

“It’s a bit loud in there, Miss Danbury,” Susan responded with a slight frown that she hoped would scare off the other debutant.

But Olivia easily pulled Susan out of the chair and onto her feet. “It’s supposed to be loud. It’s a party.” Then she linked her arm with Susan’s, smiled, and began to direct her toward the drawing room. “I hope you haven’t been sitting all alone for too long.”

In no time, they’d reached a group near the refreshment table in the drawing room. Susan recognized many of the faces. There, of course, were Olivia’s two perfect best friends—Henrietta Babbitt and Cordelia Avery. There were also several young men, some Susan recognized but more that she did not. Her face began to flush with embarrassment, as she discovered that all eyes were on her. She did not fit in with this group, and she wished that Olivia Danbury had left her to rot in the library alone.

“Miss Clarke,” Cordelia Avery smiled warmly, “how wonderful to see you. Do you know everyone?”

Susan couldn’t quite find her voice to speak, so she shook her head instead, barely managing to meet Miss Avery’s eyes.

“Let me do the honors, then, Miss Clarke,” Olivia remarked gracefully. Then she began to rattle off names of one gentleman, then another, and another. “And finally, this is my dear cousin, Mr. Beckford, and Lord Haywood.”

The last two gentlemen were quite striking, indeed, especially as they looked so different from each other. They were by far the most handsome in the bunch.  But while Mr. Beckford was golden-haired and had a reckless air about him, Lord Haywood was younger, more boyish with dark locks that nearly matched hers. She curtseyed and smiled at the gentlemen. “Pleasure.”

Lord Haywood hesitated, only briefly, before he offered Susan his arm. “Miss Clarke, would you care to take a turn about the room with me?”

Susan’s heartbeat quickened, but she managed to nod her head. She only hoped that she could find her voice and not make a cake out of herself.

It then took less than two minutes for Susan to completely lose her heart to Lord Haywood. He wasn’t like any of the usual gentlemen she associated with. He seemed so confident and self-assured.

“Beckford had to drag me here tonight,” the handsome baron admitted after they’d left the large and boisterous group.

He hadn’t wanted to attend either? Susan found his honesty most refreshing. How many times had she listened to society’s darlings simply say what was expected of them?

Lord Haywood continued softly, “I’d been set for an evening at the theatre, but now…”

“The theatre?” Susan asked in awe and her eyes flew to his. “I was supposed to attend Drury Lane this evening before my plans changed.”