Duke of Deception (Wentworth Trilogy) (8 page)

He wondered with more than a little irritation what the man could be saying to command such a rapt audience, for clearly she was hanging on the fool’s every word. Whatever it was, it had to be of little import, he decided; the lad couldn’t be but a few days out of school, and he looked the sort who probably hadn’t learned much anyway.

When Lady Louisa burst into laughter, Derek decided he’d had enough. Dropping his empty glass onto a tray, he left Stephen in the middle of his sentence and made his way to the couple, noting with satisfaction the widening of Lady Louisa’s eyes when she realized his intention. The moment he was upon them, he felt someone else step close.

“Good evening, Captain,” said Lady Foxworth in the softest of voices. “We seem to be of the same mind, do we not?”

Before Derek could utter the scathing retort that sprung to mind, Lady Foxworth stumbled and pitched forward, showering the front of Lady Louisa’s gown with wine.

“My goodness! Look what I have done. What a clumsy woman I am,” Lady Foxworth exclaimed, an apologetic frown on her face. “We must hurry and set your gown to rights before a stain settles in.”

Derek could only stand by in helpless frustration while Lady Louisa made her polite excuses to the group and hurried off, Lady Foxworth’s arm linked firmly in hers.

A
few minutes later in the bedchamber designated for Lucy, Lady Foxworth threw open the doors to the wardrobe. “Louisa—may I call you Louisa? Or better yet, Lucy? I feel as though we are already dear friends, and you, of course, must call me Isabelle.”

“Certainly, La—Isabelle. I shall ring for a maid. I cannot imagine where Bridget has gone to.” Lucy
could
imagine, but it would never do to share such information with Lady Foxworth. Besides, her mind was whirling too much to settle on Bridget’s whereabouts. How did this woman know that her aunt and Sara called her Lucy? And her father, of course. The pet name had come from him. Had Lady Foxworth been a friend of her father’s?

“No, dear, let us not bother with a maid. I am more than happy to help you. Besides, I wish to speak to you without an audience. Now, what shall you wear?” The widow slipped two gowns from the wardrobe and then clucked her tongue. “These are beautiful to be sure, but have you nothing with a lower neckline? These will not do for seduction at all!”

Lucy gasped and raised her shocked gaze to meet Lady Foxworth’s knowing one.

“Yes, dear,” the woman said. A glint, which seemed both mischievous and kind, glimmered in her eyes. “I know of your plan. I overheard you speaking with Lady Sara at the Grantham ball. There, now, you do not swoon, do you?”

“No, I never swoon, but you’ve taken me by surprise. I know not what to say.” Indeed, she knew not what to think! That such a conversation had been overheard!

“Pray do not worry that I shall give you away. Not only shall I keep your secret, but I plan to help. I would help anyone escape the clutches of that dreadful Lord Harlech.” Lady Foxworth shuddered. “Captain Wainright is perfect for your plan. But first, let us see you out of that gown so that a maid can look to the stain. I shall find something better than these.” She put back the two gowns and turned to face Lucy. “Tonight will be important, if you are to ignite the spark that has been lit.”

Lucy opened her mouth but no words came out. She schemed to outwit her uncle and Lord Harlech, both members of the
ton,
not to mention that her plan would put the captain’s reputation in a bad light. How could Lady Foxworth lend her assistance so easily?

“Ah, I see I have shocked you with my offer.” Lady Foxworth took two short steps and reached out to take Lucy’s hands in her own, her gaze locked on Lucy’s. “I should not have made so lightly of it, for this is not a game.”

“But I cannot ask you to become involved in—”

“Lucy, you ask nothing of me, but I insist on helping you. I know things about Lord Harlech, things you would not wish to know even if I could bring myself to tell you. Your motive is pure; you must save your dowry for a righteous use, one that can help others. My motive is to save
you.
Your father would never,
ever,
want you to marry Harlech. Such a dreadful man, with no conscience, a man who cares only for his own gratifications. If I had learned of your planned betrothal in a different manner, I would plot against it. For your father’s sake. For yours. So let us get past this awkwardness. Your father was a dear friend and he loved you more than life itself. You do not have the experience your plan requires for a successful outcome. You need my help.”

Lady Foxworth’s dark eyes showed nothing but compassion, and Lucy’s reservations lifted. She would be foolish to turn away such a gift.

“I accept your kind offer, but I don’t understand what you mean about the spark that’s been lit. And there is nothing better in my wardrobe. My aunt saw to that, the day after the Grantham ball,” Lucy said, morose with the knowledge that she had nothing with which to tempt the American. “The captain is so worldly and surely has his pick of women. I don’t know what I shall do, how I shall convince him to . . . ”

“Nonsense. The man is besotted with you already, but he would be a fool to welcome an unmarried English girl into his bed, no matter what his desire, so seduction probably will not work.”

Lucy set her soiled gown aside and stood shivering in her chemise and shift. The air inside the mansion was chillier than the sun-kissed air outside, and no fire had been set to heat the bedchamber. “Then what shall I do?”

Lady Foxworth tapped her chin, thinking. She removed her choice of gown from the wardrobe. It was a gown of ice blue satin which draped over one shoulder, leaving the other bare. Lucy had been surprised when Eleanor let her bring the gown, but then, it was meant to be worn with the matching shawl.

“You will still play the part of the seductress,” Lady Foxworth said, “but the captain is not the one you shall pretend to seduce. Instead, you must—”

The door flew open, and Captain Wainright’s powerful body filled the doorway. The anger on his face dissipated, giving way to surprise and then something else as his eyes raked Lucy’s half-naked body.

Lucy gasped and tried to cover her breasts, aware that the captain could surely see through the thin cotton of her undergarments, but her attempt to cover herself didn’t help. Indeed, her frantic movements seemed to make matters worse, for his mouth dropped open and he didn’t look away. Following his stare, she looked down, horrified to see that her crossed arms had served to keep the chemise in place while pushing her breasts upward. Her nipples were half exposed! She shrieked and darted behind the safety of a dressing screen.

The captain cleared his throat, but when he spoke his voice was hoarse just the same. “I seem to have lost my way. I thought this was my room.”

“How very odd,” Lady Foxworth responded in a smug voice. “I would not have thought you the type of man to lose his way, especially when there are no gentlemen’s rooms in this wing at all. Your mistake is forgiven, but if you will excuse us, we are quite busy.”

“I—”

“Yes? Was there something else you wished, Captain?”

“I . . . Perhaps you should ring for a maid. Dinner will be served early and . . . ”

“Your concern is very much appreciated,” Lady Foxworth said, “but there is no reason to worry about us. We shall be fine without a maid. In fact, we shall be more than fine, I assure you.”

Lucy peeked around the screen to see Lady Foxworth closing the door on the bemused privateer, forcing him into the corridor. The moment the door clicked shut, Lady Foxworth turned around and leaned back against it, smothering her laugh with a gloved hand. Lucy emerged from behind the screen, and Lady Foxworth put her finger to her lips. Opening the door a crack, she checked the hallway.

“Oh!” Lucy exclaimed. “He saw me almost naked! Every time I see him, I shall think of this!”

“And so shall he. Really, this is quite perfect. Even better than a plunging neckline. He has had a taste of what is hidden beneath those girlish gowns, and I assure you he has been absolutely tantalized by this preview, and will no doubt have a difficult time keeping his eyes off you for the rest of the evening. That is exactly what you want, since
you
shall not be able to take your eyes off Lord Vanburton and every other man in your vicinity. Excepting the captain, that is.”

Lady Foxworth clapped her hands in excitement. “It is a perfect plan. Your flirtations will make the captain jealous, and if you have not noticed, when he is jealous, he drinks. Get him drunk and then sneak into his bed. He will never know you are there, not until it is too late.”

Lucy’s astonishment gave way to trepidation as she realized Lady Foxworth had solved her problem, taking away the only excuse she might have had to abandon her scheme. She reminded herself that to save Stonecrest, she must go through with her plan, a plan that until this very moment had seemed a prank, a joke that would never be.

Now it was real. The time was almost upon her when she must sneak into a man’s bed and be discovered there, the time when she would see her reputation destroyed, when friends and society would cast her aside as though they’d never known her.

She tried to ignore the sick apprehension gnawing at her. This was what she had planned for, it was what she wanted . . . wasn’t it? A life free from the dictates of others so she could complete what her father had begun?

Nodding at her new friend, she told herself it was indeed what she wanted. Her stomach tightened, protesting her certainty, but there was no turning back now.

T
he aroma from the salmon in shrimp sauce would have made her mouth water at any other time, but Lucy found herself hard-pressed to swallow a few bites. It was much the same with the other courses as even the sweetbreads and fricassee didn’t tempt her.

All she could think about was Lady Foxworth’s advice.

Now that it was time to put the plan into action, she couldn’t imagine what had made her think she could go through with such a ploy. It was bad enough that she must suddenly become flirtatious, when she had never been so before, but to do the things Lady Foxworth had suggested! She didn’t know how she’d manage to stare at a man’s lips while he spoke to her, to stare as though she imagined being kissed by those lips, but Lady Foxworth had insisted, saying it was imperative that by the end of dinner the privateer should be so convinced of her flirtatiousness that he would be incensed and drinking heavily.

Knowing her entire future depended upon her actions now, Lucy was determined to do as her cohort advised, and she told herself she would simply pretend she was Bridget. Otherwise, she was certain she would embarrass herself quite to death.

She glanced down the length of the formal table, wishing she could see Sara’s familiar face, but Sara had pretended illness so she could return home. Lucy knew it was disappointing for her friend, who had been thrilled to be near Lord Aster, but any association with Lucy now could only hurt Sara’s reputation, and in truth, Lucy didn’t know if she would be able to act the part of a flirt with her good friend looking on. Besides, Lady Foxworth had insisted she flirt with every man in sight, including Lord Aster, since he was seated directly across from her. She could never have done so in front of Sara; the ruse was difficult enough with her gone.

Her gaze rested for a moment on Lady Foxworth, and she marveled at how the woman had managed to finagle the seating so that Captain Wainright was close enough to observe her behavior but far enough away that he couldn’t hear her conversation when her voice was lowered. According to Lady Foxworth, a mere mention of Lucy’s seating preferences to Lord Vanburton had been enough to make the marquess insist on the changes, most likely because
he
was now seated next to Lucy. Lady Foxworth sat directly across from him, between the captain and Lord Aster.

It was the perfect arrangement, for the captain would see Lucy’s face each time she turned toward the Lord Vanburton. More important, her aunt, seated at the opposite end of the table, wouldn’t be able to see Lucy’s face at all. Neither would Eleanor be able to see that Lucy had shrugged the shawl off her one bare shoulder.

Lucy reached for the comforting feel of her locket before remembering she hadn’t worn it. She had only herself to depend on for courage, then. Taking a deep breath, she looked at Lord Aster with what Lady Foxworth called a “come hither” look, determined to begin. He offered back a small smile, curious interest in his eyes. She let her gaze travel to his mouth, but then couldn’t carry through with the plan and glanced away, feeling decidedly foolish. Perhaps Lord Aster wasn’t the best man to try
that
on, and besides, she felt as though she were betraying Sara.

She glanced back at the earl to find him studying her with a lazy smile and a knowing expression, and she battled the blush that would surely come any moment. He knew what she was doing; she was sure of it. She would leave him out of the business and make do with Lord Vanburton, whatever Lady Foxworth might say about it.

Glasses clinked, conversations rose accompanied by laughter, abated, rose again. Through it all Lucy breathed in and out, in and out, counting one-two-three with each breath. As Lady Foxworth had predicted, the captain’s gaze seemed glued to her, and her flirtatious attempts were evidently enough to annoy him, for he had motioned to the footman to refill his wine glass twice already.

Her eyes caught his and he leaned back in his chair to stare at her, unmindful of his dinner, his smoldering gaze burning a trail from her bare shoulder down to the bodice that molded her breasts, where his gaze lingered for more than a moment. Recognizing his look as the same he had bestowed upon her when she was in a state of undress, Lucy felt her face grow warm. But Lord Vanburton was asking her a question, and so she forced herself to concentrate, giving him her most engaging smile.

A flustered Lord Vanburton stopped mid-sentence and started over again. “I’m so pleased you will tour the grounds tomorrow, Lady Louisa. I don’t believe I know another young lady who takes such an interest in horses and land and farming.” As he began to talk about his stable, Lucy let her gaze drop to his lips, parting her own lips just a little, as Lady Foxworth had instructed.

Lord Vanburton stammered and nearly fell into his plate. He leaned toward her, lowering his voice to an intimate level, and she leaned closer to him too, tipping her head to the side as she’d been told to do. She gazed at him as though his every word was worthy of parchment and then let her gaze drop again to his lips.

She felt, rather than saw, the captain’s piercing stare. She could only pray that Isabelle Foxworth’s plan was working.

D
erek seethed behind a determined mask of nonchalance. From the moment they sat down to dinner, Lady Louisa had acted like a whore, flirting with every man except him.

She hadn’t spared him a single glance, for she couldn’t keep her eyes off Lord Vanburton, and for God’s sake, what was this business with the man’s mouth? It was just a mouth—a perfectly ordinary mouth. No, actually, it was a little uglier than an ordinary mouth, a little softer than an ordinary mouth.

As he more closely examined the man and his mouth, he could see it wasn’t an ordinary mouth at all. In fact, that mouth made him sick.