The Scarlet Bride (28 page)

“Calm yourself,” Simon said over his shoulder as he escorted his aunt toward the ballroom. “I shall settle you in a corner until you can get accustomed to the crush.”

Music played and people mingled while Laura kept her eyes mostly down at her feet. Aunt Bernie spent the first hour greeting acquaintances and friends and learning the latest gossip. She lamented her months of isolation on the thousand-acre estate to anyone who would listen.

The crush of people who wanted to speak to Aunt Bernie
kept Laura from enjoying her company. Time proceeded slowly.

Laura struggled not to tap her foot beneath her gown or show too much interest in the passing guests. The spectacles hid her eyes enough for covert glances at men, but she saw no one she recognized. Whether it was good or bad remained to be seen.

“I would love some punch.”

Laura turned her head. “Pardon?”

Aunt Bernie patted her hand. “I am parched. It is hot in here.” She waved to a woman in an ostrich plum hat. “Perhaps you could get us punch and ask the duchess to open a few more windows. There are never enough open windows.”

Laura was pleased for a reprieve from boredom, and yet concerned about wandering alone amid the room full of potential murderers. She walked with a stilted gait in the general direction of the dining room, keeping vigilant for knife-wielding party guests. She got about halfway through the packed space when Simon appeared at her elbow.

“See anyone familiar?” he asked casually, making certain not to appear too interested in her.

“Sadly, no. The one man I recognized is a member of Parliament. I knew this only because of the disparaging cartoons of him depicted in the
Times
.” She shrugged at his curious look. “The artist portrays him quite accurately.”

Simon peered out over the crowd. He was several inches taller than most men. It gave him an advantage that she lacked. She fought to keep her hands demurely clasped together. “I expected Aunt Bernie to keep you locked to her side. She does like an audience.”

Laura’s snort was most unladylike. “Thankfully, she has sent me for punch. I thought it a perfect opportunity to walk around the room and see what I can discover.”

He frowned. “I would walk with you but it would draw attention. If a Harrington man spends too much time attending to a woman, it sets tongues wagging. If the woman is my aunt’s companion, the gossips will be speculating on how quickly I will ruin you.”

Laura bit back a cynical smile. “I am already ruined. You are too late to accomplish my deflowering.”

Eyes dancing, Simon coughed behind his hand. “You have a wicked sense of humor and are far more entertaining than the women of this company.” He reached for a glass of port off the tray of a passing footman. “Unfortunately, I must go before I draw notice to you.”

He turned and slipped into the crowd. Laura pressed onward until she found the punch and claimed two glasses for herself and Aunt Bernie. She walked gingerly past a group of women in brightly colored gowns, feeling like a sparrow among peacocks.

She gave them a cursory glance and realized one of the women in deep blue was the duchess. They locked eyes for an instant as Laura passed by.

Though she felt the familiar tug of unease she’d been experiencing since her escape from Westwick, as always there was nothing noticeable to give her pause.

The dancing was fully under way when Laura returned to the ballroom. Eager to make the evening successful in her hunt for clues, she took the long way around the room to get back to Simon’s aunt. She covertly peered at every male guest, hoping to find someone she recognized. The quicker she sent Simon on the trail of another suspect, the sooner the investigation could turn away from her.

Alas, her efforts gained her nothing.

She spent another two hours suppressing yawns, and envy, between brief and amusing comments made by her companion. She desperately wished she could join the guests on the dance floor. Occasionally, Simon would whirl past, a woman in his arms, and jealousy would burn in her breast.

She wondered if one of them was Lady Jeanette. No chit of marriageable age would ever miss an event of this size.

Although Laura grew up in a small village, she knew that mamas with eligible daughters would have to be felled by the plague before they’d pass up this opportunity to prance their little darlings in front of dozens of eligible men.

Simon could be engaged before night’s end.

Even with Laura at the party, he’d not pass on the chance for an engagement should the opportunity arise. Lady Jeanette was too grand a prize for him to lose because of his fondness for an impoverished former courtesan.

Her eyes burned and she blinked away tears.

It was then that Laura realized she had fallen headlong in love with Simon. With this newfound information came a bitterness that soured her stomach. She’d gone and done exactly what she’d feared she’d do: become emotionally attached to him, the one man she could never have.

“Are you feeling well, Miss Prescott?” Aunt Bernie asked. “You look pale.” She pushed a drooping feather out of one eye.

Laura blinked. “I think I need some air.”

Aunt Bernie pressed her fan into Laura’s hand. “Take this.”

Her hand closed around the item. “Thank you, but I fear I need to step outside.” She stumbled to her feet and walked briskly across the room toward the patio doors. As she got close to freedom, she bumped into a woman in lavender who stepped into her path. “Excuse me.”

The woman turned and Laura gaped. “Miss Noelle?”

As quickly as the words were out, Miss Noelle’s arm hooked around hers. She was ushered out the door, across the terrace, and into another door, which turned out to be a library.

Shock at finding Miss Noelle at the duchess’s ball kept her from speaking. Miss Noelle had transformed from a woman who helped school courtesans to a peacock in silk and jewels.

Laura knew Simon and Miss Noelle were cousins. She just assumed Miss Noelle was an impoverished member of the family. She certainly dressed the part at the school.

“Come, sit.” Miss Noelle pressed her into a chair. “Would you like a brandy? I know the duke keeps some somewhere.”

Laura shook her head and sat the fan on the table. “Who
are
you?” she whispered.

A smile flashed. “Lady Noelle Seymour, but more recently, Mrs. Gavin Blackwell. I do play my part of the helpful widow quite well, don’t you think? The courtesans accept me as such without question.”

Before Laura could ask the myriad of questions bouncing about in her head, the terrace door flung open, startling both women.

S
imon stepped quickly into the room and clicked the door closed behind him. He crossed the room with brisk steps.

“What is happening?” he asked, his face concerned. He quickly looked Laura over. “I saw Noelle pull you out of the ballroom. Are you ill?”

Laura shook her head. “It was nothing. Well, unless you consider my shock at finding out that Miss Noelle is a Lady.” She scowled. “I am beginning to realize that there is a vast array of secrets hiding in the courtesan school and in your family. Is there anything else I should know?”

Simon looked at Miss Noelle. “You know Noelle is my cousin. We haven’t hidden that information.”

“I do,” Laura replied. She pressed a gloved hand to her forehead. “Is Sophie your sister? Is Thomas your long-suffering bastard brother?”

He chuckled. “Sophie is not my sister. She is no relation at all. And I am positive Thomas is not the product of my father stepping out on Mother. She’d kill him.”

“Perfect.” She glanced at Miss Noelle. “How closely are you related to the duchess? You have the same color eyes.”

The two cousins briefly stared at each other, as if trying to decide what information to share. Finally, Miss Noelle spoke. “The duchess is my half sister. We just met about a year ago. We’ve kept it secret for now.”

If loving Simon had been an impossible dream before this moment, it was as far out of reach as the stars now.

Though she’d known he was to be an earl someday, as the cousin of a duchess and Lady Noelle, he’d need someone like Lady Jeanette at his side. He might care for Laura, but ultimately, he would do his duty to his family.

Her shoulders slumped. Why couldn’t she have been rescued by a footman or a farmer? Why did it have to be Simon?

“Will you leave us?” Simon asked and Noelle slipped quietly out onto the terrace. He crouched down onto his heels and closed a hand over hers. “Will you tell me why you look as though your best friend has just died?”

“My only friend
has
just died.” She sighed deeply. “You cannot be my friend. Not really. It’s a game we’ve played these last few weeks. Don’t you see that, Simon? It doesn’t matter how deeply I care for you, or that you are still only third in line to become an earl, you and I will never be able to socialize publicly without drawing scandal.”

“We’ve know this from the first. It hasn’t stopped us from caring for each other. Why is this coming up now, tonight, when we have suspects to uncover?”

She closed her fists. “Because I’ve come to the horrible realization that I’m falling in love with you. Every time you danced with a young woman tonight, I wanted to pull her hair out. Every time I overheard Lady Jeanette’s name, I wanted to push her in front of a coach.” She stood and rubbed her eyes beneath the spectacles and said angrily, “Don’t you see, I knew better. I knew that our time together was a mistake. You are too charming and handsome to resist. How could I not love you?”

Simon chuckled softly. “Is loving me as terrible as all that?” He pulled her into his arms. “It isn’t as if the condition is fatal.”

“It is when one day soon, you and I will part forever and my heart will shatter into bits,” she grumbled and met his eyes. “I truly expect nothing from you, Simon. My feelings are mine alone.” She plucked at his coat. “I understand the way of this world and will go away quietly when we are done. I only wish that I had protected my heart a little better.”

S
imon lifted her chin. The surprise of her stunning confession had taken him aback. It shouldn’t have. Laura always spoke openly about her feelings. At least she’d never held back when scolding him for his forward behavior.

Still, he never expected her to love him.

“I cannot marry you.” He looked softly into her beautiful gray eyes. Even the drab disguise couldn’t hide away her loveliness. He’d been watching her all evening, barely able to tear his gaze away, wishing it were she dancing in his arms.

“I know.” She smiled wistfully. “I wouldn’t marry you if I could. I need a life free of gossip and social stigma. If my time with Westwick was ever to become news, I would be ostracized by everyone you know.”

Sadly, she was correct. And in spite of his fondness for her, they both had to be practical. Though her situation hadn’t been her fault, she’d always carry the title of courtesan, if only in her mind.

“Then we shall continue forward with our investigation and speak of this no more.” Simon leaned forward and impulsively pressed a light kiss on her lips. “Come, let us return to the ballroom before Aunt Bernie notices you are missing.”

T
he hallway was quiet when they emerged from the library. Laura excused herself to go to the retiring room, wanting a few minutes to settle her emotions before returning to the ball.

There were several women already there but they barely gave her a glance. Laura walked over to a mirror and adjusted her spectacles. For the first time, she’d confessed to loving a man and nothing had changed because of it. The sun hadn’t broken through the clouds to cast them in shimmery light, and birds hadn’t chirped a happy song to celebrate her love.

No, life would go on as it always did.

She exited the room and realized she’d left the fan in the library. Retracing her footsteps, she found the fan where she’d put it down. She hooked it over her wrist and turned toward the door.

A flutter of curtains caught her attention.

Miss Noelle had left the terrace doors open. She walked across the room and reached for the handles. She had only a moment to realize that she wasn’t alone when a pair of hands caught her arms from behind and jerked her back against a hard chest. She let out a surprised squeak.

“Say nothing,” a voice commanded. His breath smelled strongly of ale. His plain brown coat gave no clue as to his identity as she tried to look over her shoulder at his face.

Yet there was something familiar about the voice. Though she couldn’t immediately place it, a cold trill of alarm went down her body.

The man released one arm for an instant. She hadn’t time to begin to struggle, or to reach for the knife in her garter, when a blade was pressed against her throat. She went still.

“Imagine my surprise to find the beautiful Laura attending the duke’s ball in the accompaniment of Lady Bernice Harrington. You have obviously taken up a new profession,” he hissed into her ear. “Isn’t playing Harrington’s whore enough to keep you occupied? Now you are a lady’s companion to his aunt?” He snickered. “You are a woman of many talents.”