Midnight Temptations With a Forbidden Lord (13 page)

That devilish smile of his was back in place. “Let me see what I can come up with, my lady. But for now, I think we should part ways before the rain comes down any harder.”

It was falling at a steady pace, and the rest of their party had probably taken shelter. Charlotte turned to her friend and beckoned her over. Ariel lowered the umbrella as she drew nearer.

“Thank you,” Ariel said to the marquess as she handed back his folded, dripping umbrella.

“There is a covered gazebo just past this set of cages. I’d lend you an umbrella, but it might look suspicious.”

“As though we met someone on the way?” Charlotte smiled up at him. “We’ll be fine—it’s only a little water.”

“We’ll race as though the devil is at our heels, Lord Castleigh,” Ariel added. “Mother will have conniptions.”

“Good day, my lord,” Charlotte said as she took her friend’s hand and did just as Ariel suggested and ran for the gazebo.

“I have so much to tell you, Ariel.”

“We’ll have to wait till tonight to discuss this. What should we say when we catch up to everyone?”

“Only that we didn’t see which way they went. We’ve been gone ten minutes, and we were together the whole time. No one will question us; they’ll all be busy complaining about the rain.”

Chapter 8

Where doth the Dowager Countess of F
^____
hide? She’s been absent from society since the duchess’s grand ball. Not a squeak has come from her direction, though I hear rumors that the earl’s old valet has left the country with an immediacy that makes you wonder what secrets the F
^____
household hides.
Shame should be her greatest reason for retreating into the shadows, but many would be content to think that she’s seen the error of her ways and wishes to mend the damage she’s done to her name for far too many years to count. I certainly don’t think this to be the case, though stranger things have happened.
—The Mayfair Chronicles,
June 1846 When Tristan arrived at Jez’s townhouse, the butler showed him to her drawing room. He was to escort her to Hayden’s tonight, so why wasn’t she dressed yet? He sat in the folds of a green brocade high-backed armchair, stretched his legs out, and crossed them at the ankles. Impatient to be playing a game of cards, he tapped his cane on the hardwood floor, the staccato beat loud in the all too quiet house.

Come to think of it, he didn’t hear anything but the ticking of the mantel clock. He sat forward in the chair, tuning his ear to the corridor. There wasn’t a servant to be heard.

Jez glided into the room five minutes later, in complete dishabille. She wore her Chinese-style scarlet dressing gown decorated with golden dragons. Her hair was a mass of loose red curls around her shoulders. He stood as she entered, a frown forming on his face.

“Have you forgotten about our night out, love?”

She looked paler than usual and there were dark circles under her eyes that looked to be caused by illness. She seemed to sway listlessly where she stood. He rushed forward, caught her elbow, and guided her toward the sofa. She
was
unwell.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice cracking as though she were parched and hadn’t had a drop of water all day. “I haven’t been sleeping and I think the insomnia has finally caught up with me and has made me ill.”

Steadying her with one arm while his other supported her around the waist, he settled her carefully on the sofa. “I can see you’re ill. And I’m not generally one to point out any faults in the fairer sex. You look dreadful, Jez. Are you taking something to help you sleep?”

She gave him a weak smile. “You know me; if a glass or two of wine can’t settle me for the night, I’m not one to imbibe something stronger—no matter how much it’s needed.” She waved away his concern and collapsed back against the sofa as though her current state were normal. “I’ll be sitting the next few nights out.”

“You’ve always had trouble with sleep; are you sure you haven’t just eaten something off?”

“If anything it’s my soul purging the evil of my late husband.”

He shook his head. She was always so dramatic. “Would you like me to call in your maid?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be fine. The stairs are a little taxing right now, but manageable.”

“Then I’ll take you back up to bed straightaway, and I won’t hear otherwise.”

He didn’t give her a moment to protest as he lifted her up into his arms. It didn’t seem as though she had the energy to argue with him, however, for she wrapped her arms around his shoulders and rested her temple against his collarbone with a sigh.

When he passed through the drawing room door, the butler stood to attention; it seemed the man was awaiting his instruction. “Please go up ahead of me and get the doors. Your mistress needs to stay abed for at least one night to help cure what ails her.”

“Right away, my lord.”

When they entered her private chambers, he had the butler toss back her coverlet so he could settle her onto the mattress.

She rubbed the side of his face while he was still leaning over her. “Thank you,” she whispered.

“Should I call for someone?”

She reached for his sleeve and held it tight, shaking her head all the while. “No. I’m sorry I didn’t send you a note to save you the trip here.”

He sat on the edge of her mattress. “I’ll stay if you want.” And he would; cards could be saved for another night. “I don’t like seeing you like this, Jez.”

“Even the strong have moments of weakness, my friend.”

Jez was like a little sister to him, despite the fact that only a few months separated them in age, he being older by three months.

“I’ll be better in a few days.” She yawned, garbling the last of her words.

“I’ll be by to check on you in the morning.”

“I just need to sleep. I promise you I’ll be in top form before the week is through.”

“You had better be, or I’ll have Bea over here to nurse you back to health, and she comes with two little imps that like nothing more than jumping on any cushioned surface and terrorizing the help.”

That brought a smile to Jez’s wan face, which made him feel a little better about leaving her alone for the night. And he was only leaving because she had insisted.

He brushed his lips against her cheek, and wished her a good night. He was sure she was asleep before he closed her bedchamber door behind him.

The butler walked him down to the door, all too eager to show him out. Something felt wrong. Before leaving, he turned to the old man. “Call on me if she worsens.”

“Will do, my lord.” The man bowed cordially.

“Have someone bring broth up to her.” She should eat something since she didn’t look as though she’d eaten for days. Hopefully the butler would pass the message on to the cook.

“Of course, my lord,” he said with a nod and closed the door behind Tristan.

Was the butler anxious to be rid of him? He’d never been ushered out of Jez’s house so fast. He stood on the front porch a moment, wondering what the best course of action would be. He could demand entrance into her home again and stay at her bedside to ensure she slept through the night, or leave her to her privacy and visit her on the morrow.

Jez valued her privacy above all things, so he was left with only one option: to check on her first thing in the morning. Maybe he should bring his sister along. In his experience, women opened up better to their own sex. He couldn’t blame them. There were a few things he would never talk about to anyone but another man, so why shouldn’t the same be true for a woman?

Hayden lived only a dozen townhouses down from Jez’s so he walked the rest of the way. The night brought cooler weather, and fog started to settle heavily on the streets, making visibility difficult. After he took the front steps of Hayden’s townhouse two at a time, the footman opened the door before Tristan could raise his hand to the knocker.

“Good evening, my lord.” The door was opened wide so Tristan could be admitted. He removed his hat and gloves, and handed them to the footman. “You’ll find His Grace in his study.”

“Has Leo arrived yet?” He handed off his cane once the footman hung his hat.

“Lord Barrington has been here for a quarter hour.”

“Thank you, Carson.”

He strolled down the long hallway that led to Hayden’s study and doubled as a vast library with a large collection of rare books—a pastime of Hayden’s father that had passed from son to son for six generations.

On entering, Leo greeted Tristan with a nod. “About time you arrived,” he said.

“I stopped by Jez’s. We were going to come together but she has taken ill.” Both men were silent. Did they already know? “Am I missing something?” he asked.

“Nothing,” Hayden said, and turned back to the sideboard where he was pouring out three glasses of whisky. “There goes my partner for whist. I suppose we could sit down and play an old man’s game.”

“Cribbage?” Leo suggested.

Hayden shrugged as he looked at them.

“Short a hand as we are, I think we can pass on the card game tonight. We’ll try again next week,” Leo said, and headed toward the sofa and chairs that circled a cozy spot by the fireplace.

Leo swirled his glass under his nose and inhaled the aroma. “Now
that
is nicely aged.”

Hayden took a sip of his drink and nodded his agreement as he set a tumbler in front of Tristan. “I had a few bottles brought down from my last trip over the border. Those Scots know how to make fine spirits.”

Tristan took his usual seat at the corner of the sofa and put his feet up on a footstool. He tasted his drink and agreed with Leo’s assessment when the liquor washed over his tongue and down his throat. It was smooth and delicious.

“You’re headed to the Carleton estate for part of the summer, aren’t you?” Hayden asked Leo.

Leo grunted and put his head back on the chair. “It’s not for a couple of weeks yet.” He looked at Tristan, and said, “Did you ever receive an invitation? I don’t remember you saying so.”

“Unfortunately I won’t be able to attend. My summers are devoted to Ronnie and Rowan.” Which they all knew, but maybe Leo thought Tristan’s outlook might have changed now that the Ponsley chit was participating in the summer fun.

“You could take a break from the family for once,” Hayden pointed out, as he sat back in the sofa, crossing his ankle over his knee.

“I’m well aware of that, but I choose not to. They’ll be off to school for the year before long, leaving me to life in London. I doubt I’ll miss anything at the Carletons’.”

Leo looked at him oddly. “It is usually the best party of the season.”

Tristan shrugged. “I’ve been once, and look where that landed me.”

“Ah, yes,” Hayden said. “But what else could you expect from a married woman whose husband wasn’t even in attendance?”

He’d not have put it past Ronnie’s mother to have passed the child off as her late husband’s had he died sooner. Instead, after an idyllic few weeks at the Carleton residence with him, his paramour had been forced into seclusion, and some nine months later, a babe was dropped on his doorstep with a note stating the child’s name.

“It’s not important,” Tristan said. “What’s far more interesting is the matter with the chaperone and Leo.”

Leo raised a brow, seemingly not put out by the prying observation. Tristan knew that Miss Camden was not up for discussion, but since they were dissecting Tristan’s life, turnabout was fair play.

“A chaperone?” Hayden said, bemused.

“Miss Camden and I go back a number of years. In fact, we met at one of the earlier Carleton parties.” Leo swirled his glass around on the arm of the chair.

“She’s either a puritan, and you won’t forgive yourself for not getting her petticoats above her—”

Leo was up from his reposed position on the chair and grabbing Tristan by the cravat before he could finish his sentence. Leo lifted him right from his seat and glared at him.

How very, very interesting.

There was no way to make a man angry faster than to insult a woman he revered above all others.

“You’ll refrain from making assumptions with that forked tongue of yours,” Leo snapped at him.

Hayden stood, ready to intervene. “Must we resort to fisticuffs in the study? Take it out to the street if you want to act like a pair of ruffians.”

Tristan wrapped his hand around Leo’s wrist and pried his friend’s hand loose from his cravat. “You’re predictable and foolish. If I can so easily make out your feelings toward her, how are you going to hide them from everyone else attending the Carletons’?”

The veins stood out on Leo’s neck, but he took a calming breath and reined in his rage. “There is nothing between Miss Camden and me. I’m merely ensuring that she doesn’t find herself in an unfavorable position. The Carletons’ parties are notorious for the scandals that brew behind the estate walls.”

Hayden sat again and put his feet up on the footstool. “Yet Tristan makes a valid point. Since the Ponsley girl will be in attendance, what exactly do you have planned for Lady Charlotte?”

“Nothing,” Leo responded as he released Tristan. He pulled his coat down, and fixed his sleeves, still glaring. “I’m paying my respects to the Carletons, keeping Miss Camden out of harm’s way and probably the girl in the process. I will also be visiting my estate while in Hertfordshire.”