Two Beaux and a Promise Collection (2 page)

“Not good. Stagleigh is venal.”

“I’m glad you agree. My skin crawls whenever he is in the house. I try to avoid him.”

“Wise.”

“But no longer possible. Stagleigh agreed to pay Derrick’s debts in exchange for my hand. Neither of them cares a whit for me. But Derrick needs money so badly that he swore to beat me into compliance. Stagleigh doesn’t care. He considers my hatred a challenge.”

Richard nodded. “He would. So how did you escape?”

“They didn’t realize I overheard them negotiating terms. I slipped out before they could give me the good news. Unfortunately, they discovered my absence almost immediately and chased me here.”

“I sent them away.”

She shook her head. “They won’t go far. Derrick may have declined to make a scene in front of society’s
crème de la crème
, but he knows I’m here. He was too close behind not to have seen me enter.”

“Where were you going?”

She sighed. “I had no time to think.”  She hesitated to say more, but Richard was her best hope of escape. Unless he believed her, he would turn her over to her guardian. So she must reveal the full story – or most of it. “I have no other close relatives, and I have no money – my quarterly allowance is only two pounds.”

“That’s less than a maid makes.”

“I know.”  She patted the large reticule hanging from her arm. “I grabbed Mama’s pearls and a few other things before fleeing. Selling them will pay my keep for a time.”  She shrugged.

“Do you think he will change his mind?”

“No. But I turn twenty-one in six days. My dowry will then come to me. It will let me set up my own household.”

“Not if you hope to retain your reputation.”

Again she shrugged. “Society doesn’t don’t know I exist and would reject me if it did. My mother may have been a baron’s daughter, but my father was a merchant. The business went to his partner, of course, but my inheritance will do. One can live on very little in the country.”

“But what about marriage?”

She laughed. Bitterly. “Why should I put myself at the mercy of yet another man?  Five years with Derrick has cured me of any romantical notions.”  She had yet to meet a man she could trust when her needs opposed his desires. Even Grandfather had ignored her preferences.

“This isn’t the time to argue your future. We must leave. How bad is your ankle?”

“I fell rounding the corner from Conduit to George Street.”  She lifted her skirts to reveal the ankle, which had swollen even larger. “It can’t be broken, for I continued running on it, but it hurts like blazes.”

Richard knelt, gently bending the ankle as his fingers prodded the bones. She nearly screamed.

He shook his head. “It’s the worst sprain I’ve seen in some time. I’ll have to carry you.”

“Where?”

“To my horse. It’s waiting on Mill Street, just outside the rector’s office.”

She tried to protest, but he cut her off.

“I can’t remain here. My sister will already be wondering where I am – she just married my best friend, so I’m expected at the breakfast. We’ll stash you out of sight until I have time to think about your problem.”

“I won’t return to Derrick.”

“Of course not. What the devil was your father about to leave Herriard in charge of you in the first place?  He must have known the man is a scoundrel.”

“He named Grandfather. But Grandfather and Derrick’s father died in a carriage accident a week after my father died, so Derrick inherited my guardianship along with the title.”  She still shuddered to recall those days. Her grandfather had wanted her to make the society match her mother had refused, though he’d long since come to terms with his daughter’s elopement. Derrick abhorred his grandfather’s acceptance of so base a union, but he’d been careful not to admit it while the old man controlled his allowance. Only after the accident had he shown his true colors, relegating his low-class ward to the attics and refusing to recognize their blood ties.

“We will discuss alternatives later. Come along.”  He lifted her easily, then peeked out the chapel door to make sure the nave was empty before heading for the office and his horse.

— 2 —

Richard was shaking with fury by the time he reached Hawthorne House. Their departure from St. George’s had not gone as smoothly as he’d expected. He had set Georgiana across his horse, then mounted behind her. But he’d hardly settled into the saddle before Herriard had attacked. If the man had been mounted, they would never have escaped. As it was, Herriard had caught Georgiana’s foot and nearly pulled her off. Only a sharp kick had freed her.

Herriard was a menace and a disgrace to his breeding. He should never have been put in charge of an innocent maiden. But no one who might have objected had known about her. Once her mother had eloped with a merchant, she’d ceased to exist in society.

It wasn’t the first time he’d questioned the dictates of his class. Young ladies ought to be more than breeding stock or assets to stave off financial disaster. Guardians should not have total control of their wards. Nor should parents. Society should protect girls from the Herriards of the world – or so he’d argued with Charles more than once.

Georgiana was a prime example. Imagining her under Herriard’s roof made his blood boil. And Stagleigh would be worse. So lovely a girl was no match for a lecher. He had to protect her – and not just because it would let him pursue Herriard openly. She deserved more than a life of abuse.

The question was how to proceed.

Keeping her at Hughes House until he dealt with Herriard would expose his mother to Herriard’s spite. Not a price he was willing to pay; her health was too fragile. Yet there was nowhere else he could take her. He had no rooms of his own and lacked the means to lease something. Even an inexpensive hotel would cost too much just now – his pockets were empty until next quarter day, still two weeks away.

His only option was to swallow his pride and beg help from his friends.

“Stay here,” he ordered, laying Georgiana on the couch in Jacob’s study. “I must attend the wedding breakfast, but I will lock the door so no one can bother you. As soon as I can get away, we will discuss the next step.”

“But—”

“Relax. I won’t return you to Herriard. The man is a cad. But this is my sister’s wedding day. I cannot abandon her.”

“Of course not.”

“I’d rather keep your presence quiet for now, even from the staff, so I’ll bring refreshments when I return.”

She nodded.

He didn’t like to leave her alone, but he had no choice. Slipping the key into his pocket, he hurried toward the drawing room. Locking the door protected her, but it also protected him if he’d misjudged her – as occasionally happened. She could not rob Jacob and flee before he returned.

“Where have you been?” hissed Emily as he joined the receiving line.

“Finishing up at the church.”

Jacob raised an aristocratic brow, but said nothing as he turned to greet Lady Debenham, another of London’s most ferocious gossips.

An hour passed before arrivals dwindled to a trickle. As usual, many more people attended the wedding breakfast than had witnessed the actual wedding.

When Emily finally headed for the drawing room, Richard held Jacob back. “I need your help. Let me know when you can get free.”

“Can’t Charles—”

“Not this time.”  Though the three had been friends for twenty years, Charles supported the rights of guardians, even when doing so was not in the ward’s best interests. Jacob had no such reservations.

“Very well, but why now?”

“I didn’t choose the time. The problem arose without warning.”

“Is this why you were late?” Jacob asked as they entered the drawing room.

Richard nodded, then flashed a practiced smile at Lady Beatrice as Jacob moved to his wife’s side.

Lady Beatrice glared at Jacob’s retreating back and snorted. “I know the Beaux share everything, but passing around a fiancée is beyond enough.”  She transferred her scowl to Emily.

“My sister would object to that charge,” he said lightly, though this was exactly what he’d feared. Jilting a gentleman always raised brows, but the Beaux’ reputations made it worse.

He, Jacob, and Charles had acquired the sobriquet The Three Beaux ten years earlier, in part because of their closeness, but mostly because all three were rakes – though not as incorrigible as rumor claimed; he knew of only one female who’d actually lain with all three of them, and he knew about her only because she’d thrown a public fit when Jacob turned down a second encounter. The incident had tarred them with an unwarranted reputation for sharing conquests, adding to the scandal when Emily jilted Charles to wed Jacob.

Richard met Lady Beatrice’s stare. “Emily and Lord Charles mistook friendship for something deeper. I find it commendable that they addressed the problem as soon as they recognized it. That marriage would have made all three of them miserable. Since the decision occurred only a few days ago, it was easier to change grooms than to cancel the wedding arrangements.”

“Perhaps.”  She raised a lorgnette to study the new Countess of Hawthorne. “I must admit I’ve rarely seen two people so pleased with each other.”

“Exactly. This was meant to be.”  He stifled a spurt of envy as he watched the pair move through the room. Even as they spoke with guests, they were enclosed in a bubble of mutual awareness that excluded those around them. Their joy shone brightly enough to cast all others in the shade.

“She has done very well for herself,” Lady Beatrice continued. “Impoverished girls have sought Hawthorne’s eye for years. No one else has his combination of title, wealth, and good looks. The connection will serve you well, too. Better than the other would have done.”

Richard nearly ground his teeth. Why did she insist that Emily was a fortune hunter?  Not only had the pair been close since childhood, but Em had a decent dowry. And why did she think Em’s marriage could help him?  Jacob was his closest friend. They didn’t need weddings to further that bond.

But he refused to vent his frustration aloud and even managed several more exchanges before moving on, though his mood remained black. He was tired of her relentless suspicion and very tired of how she pounced on every sign that he might need money.

This wedding breakfast was yet another thorn in his side, for it was far more elaborate than they had originally planned – thanks to Lady Inslip’s handling the arrangements and tapping Jacob’s bottomless coffers. His own marriage would not be celebrated in such style. His family couldn’t afford it, and he was determined that his wife would never overshadow him, financially or otherwise.

Long practice stifled any resentment, for thinking of money always strained his friendship with the very wealthy Beaux. It had nearly fractured the group when they’d pressed him too hard to join an expensive outing one summer. Jacob had finally healed the rift and no longer argued when Richard refused. But memories continued to hover, casting shadows on his soul.

The next hour passed in a blur as he dampened further hints at scandal and toasted the bride and groom. The gossips grumbled, but followed Charles’s lead. Lady Beatrice’s toast finally eliminated his fears for Emily’s future, allowing him to fully relax.

Now he could concentrate on Georgiana.

The thought ignited anticipation – because helping her would irritate Herriard, he assured himself. It was the battle, not the girl, that stirred his senses. He could hardly wait to learn her full story. She might even have information that could help his investigation.

* * * *

Jacob found Richard in the refreshment room half an hour later. “What happened?” he demanded softly, helping himself to a lobster patty.

“Herriard and Stagleigh.”  Richard handed him a plate.

Jacob tensed, noting the fury that changed Richard’s warm brown eyes to a feral ocher. To keep his hands busy, he piled delicacies on the plate. “Is that who barged in during the service?”

Richard nodded. “I maneuvered them outside, but they accosted me afterward.”

“What do they want this time?”  The pair had long been a wart on society’s backside and were no longer included in even the most inclusive invitations. But their feud with the Beaux was personal. Herriard had cheated Richard some years earlier. If the Beaux had not recovered the funds, Richard would have been forced to leave London. It was unlikely that he could have returned.

Herriard had hated the Beaux ever since, especially Richard, who wasn’t satisfied with recouping his losses. Determined to protect other young men from Herriard’s predations, he kept a close eye on Herriard’s gaming, seeking evidence of cheating that would expel him from the clubs.

“Did you know that Herriard has a ward?  A female ward?”  Richard added cream cakes and a lemon biscuit to his own plate.

“My God!”  Jacob lowered his voice when heads turned his way. “Who would trust him within a hundred miles of an innocent?  How old is she?”

“Twenty – until Friday, when she gains control of her dowry and hopes to move out.”

“Herriard won’t stand for that. He’s always deep in the River Tick, so he’ll demand the money as payment for keeping her. Especially now.”  Herriard had lost badly the night before. It was doubtful that he could cover his vowels.

“Her small inheritance won’t begin to pay his debts,” said Richard, pat on the thought. “So he’s selling her to Stagleigh.”

Jacob cursed. His butler took one look at his face, then herded nearby guests toward the drawing room. “Why didn’t you say something earlier?” Jacob asked when he had his temper under control.

“I told you, I just found out about it. She escaped this morning and is currently in your study.”

“Devil take it. Can’t you keep your lame ducks away from my wedding?”

Richard glared.

Jacob waved a hand in apology. “That was uncalled for. But why the devil don’t you let people know about your crusades?  At least then you could ask someone besides us to help you.”

“It isn’t even
us
this time. I can’t involve Charles.”

“I know.”  He grimaced. “He can be a real prig when it comes to the letter of the law. What do you need?”