Regency 03 - Deception

Deception

by

Jaimey Grant

*

PUBLISHED BY: TreasureLine Publishing

Deception

Copyright © 2010 by Laura J. Miller

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*

Deception

*

London, 1818

“
Levi Sterling, you must
be jesting!”

Lord Greville had the grace to look abashed, but he
was desperate. He fixed Bri with his warmest smile, a smile
designed to melt the coldest of hearts, and replied, “If I wasn’t
in such trouble, I would not ask.”

She released a sigh of exasperation. “Will
you ever learn? How many times must I rescue you?”

Despite her frustration, Lady Brianna
Prestwich was genuinely fond of her incorrigible cousin. He was
quickly earning a reputation as a wastrel, however. The strain in
her answering smile spoke of her concern.

All smiles fled when she saw a smashing racing
curricle pull up in the square outside. The devilishly handsome
driver had black hair and chilly gray-green eyes. He would be in a
rage if he found out about Levi’s latest debts.

Bri’s husband, Sir Adam was home.

Levi joined her at the window just in time
to see Adam’s graceful leap from the carriage. He may have appeared
small next to the more muscular Lord Greville, but there was
something about the older man that made Levi just a bit
nervous.

Adam was cynical, unforgiving. This coldly
calculating nature was something Levi could not entirely
comprehend, his own nature being wholly bent toward pleasurable
pursuits.

Of course, the Earl of Greville had his own
set of ne’er-do-well associates. His acquaintances numbered a few
odd rattles, some of whom were whispered about in every corner of
every ballroom in every home of the upper ten thousand.

“
Please, Bri?” Levi asked,
turning suddenly.

“
Oh, very well!” she
conceded against her better judgment. “But I warn you, Vi, this is
the last time. If you find yourself in this kind of trouble again,
you will just have to marry an heiress.”

Levi’s eyes widened in genuine horror. She
might as well suggest that he go around to Tattersalls auction and
pay the most he could for the lamest nag available. She might as
well suggest that he join the dandy set, sporting patricides and
elaborate cravats. She might as well suggest he go to Brooks’s
merely to watch the play instead of betting himself—which, of
course, was the whole reason he was having his current
problems.

“
Marry an heiress?” he
said, all the horror he felt reflected in his tone. “Maybe I should
just slap a glove across Hart’s face.”

“
Don’t be silly, Vi. Lord
Hart-less would kill you. A wife would never behave so
irrationally.”

She failed to understand what really
bothered him about marrying an heiress. There was a dearth of
passable females doing the Season and Levi was very particular when
it came to bedding a woman.

“
Here!”

He found a bankdraft for fifteen thousand
pounds shoved into his hands. He looked up, his dark brown eyes
wide with surprise. “I only asked for ten.”

Bri’s full lips tightened into a grim line.
“Don’t look a gift horse in the mouth, my lord. Consider it an
early birthday present. Possibly your last.”

Since he’d just received five thousand
pounds from her to cover his debts a few months past, he knew she
was emphasizing that he was forming a habit. She indicated with a
stern expression that it would be in his best interests to nip it
in the bud.

He hated it when Bri started ‘my lording’
him. He knew she was angry when she included his second name in her
diatribes, but when she started ‘my lording’ him, he knew she was
about to explode. And lately she had been especially tetchy. He
blamed impending motherhood for that.

With a hurried thank you, he shoved the
draft in his pocket just as Adam walked into the room.

“
Hello, Adam,” Levi said
with the most innocent of expressions.

Adam, of course, cynical creature that he
was, was instantly suspicious. Levi could tell. Club gossip would
have informed the baronet of his relative’s pending insolvency.
Adam would realize Levi’s need for money. The logical conclusion
from there was Bri.

Instead of accusing his cousin-by-marriage
or his wife of anything, Adam just smiled and shook Levi’s hand.
Pulling the younger man closer, Adam whispered, “Last time.”

The steely note of warning
was unmistakable. Levi swallowed hard and nodded. Adam released him
and turned glowing eyes on his wife, gesturing that she be seated
for the latest
on dit
concerning Lady Fitzjohn’s spaniel and an unfortunate young
man to whom the dog took particular exception.

Levi decided not to linger. He wanted to get
the duns off his back as soon as possible.

“
Oh, Levi,” said Adam,
smiling. Levi paused in his flight and turned around slowly, one
brow raised in silent inquiry. “I have recently made the
acquaintance of a personable young woman of considerable fortune on
the lookout for a handsome husband. I suggest you think very
carefully of courting her favor.”

~~~~~~

Before he knew it, and only three weeks
after Bri’s—and Adam’s—warning, the Earl of Greville found himself
heavily in debt again.

Agitated and worried beyond belief, Levi
took himself off to visit the one person who never seemed to mind
that he was usually in dun territory, his mistress.

Raven received him as usual, her unbound
midnight hair swirling about her as she turned to greet him. Levi
barely saw her, his thoughts wholly occupied with his monetary
troubles.

“
Levi!” She stretched out
her hands in greeting, accepting Levi’s chaste kiss on her
fingers.

He gave her a half-hearted smile, dropping
down into a chair. Under normal circumstances, he’d never have
behaved in so rude a manner. A gentleman would never sit while a
lady still stood. Lady or not, Raven deserved more respect.

Raven sat, motioning for the maid to fetch
tea. She waited.

When the minutes stretched, she cleared her
throat. “What has caused your brown study, my lord? Perhaps
speaking of it will help.”

Levi sighed. His mistress was more than just
a mistress. She was a friend, a confidante. He supposed it was only
natural that he confess to her how incredibly stupid he’d been.

“
I am in dun territory
again.”

She wasn’t surprised. Her tone was mildly
concerned. “How bad is it this time? Can you come about?”

“
I doubt very much that I
can. I have pondered all my options. I see no clear course of
action.”

“
What of Bri?”

Raven, in an unprecedented twist, enjoyed a
close friendship with Levi’s cousin Bri. They particularly enjoyed
scandalizing Society by appearing together in public, often for the
daily promenade through Hyde Park.

What so titillated the masses was the fact
that Raven was once under the protection of Bri’s husband,
Adam.

The maid returned with tea, leaving mere
moments later. Raven served, adding a generous dash of good Irish
whiskey to Levi’s cup. He took it from her, his fingers closing
tightly around the delicate china.

“
I cannot importune her
again, Rae. Adam has threatened my life should I dare to ask. I
begin to think Adam’s suggestion as the only answer.”

“
What did Adam
suggest?”

Levi focused on her, saw the way her dark
eyes were trained on his, awaiting his response.

“
Marriage,” he said
shortly.

Levi was surprised by the range of
expressions that crossed the beautiful woman’s face. Shock,
betrayal, a little anger and ultimately, resignation. She said
nothing, however, and Levi couldn’t help but wonder why.

“
An heiress, to be
precise,” he added.

“
Of course,” she murmured.
“How soon must this be accomplished?”

He shrugged. “Soon. I plan to attend all the
balls and parties I can. Even Almack’s.” He couldn’t repress the
shudder that racked his large frame. “Lord, how I loathe the
marriage mart.”

Raven stood, moving close. She held out her
hand. “You appear to need a distraction, my love.”

Levi smiled, taking her hand and drawing her
down into his arms. “You know me so well. If life was just, we
could marry, my exotic beauty.”

*

Lord Greville’s search for a bride had begun in
earnest by the time Miss Aurora Glendenning arrived in Town for the
Season. She was seen entering her establishment in Mayfair with an
odd procession of servants.

Along with what was obviously a ladies’ maid, there
was an old man with graying hair and a rigid bearing that one would
assume was the butler. Just after him was an equally aged footman
and cook. Then there was a youngish woman in plain servants’ garb,
leading a small girl by the hand. The little girl was of angelic
appearance with bright blond curls, sparkling bluish gray eyes, and
a cherubic face.

Miss Glendenning herself was petite and blond with
strange turquoise colored eyes and a neat figure. Everyone said the
fashion for blonds was exploded, but no one seemed to have informed
Miss Glendenning of that fact. She was beautiful.

No one knew the young woman; everyone wondered about
her. An older woman had arrived with her. No one assumed she was
Miss Glendenning’s mother since the woman did not resemble her in
the least. She was obviously an employee of some kind, a companion,
perhaps. Her devotion to her young mistress was plain to even the
most casual observer.

The only person who actually knew Aurora was Verena,
Lady Connor Northwicke. She had met her often. The girl came from a
family rich as Croesus who had lived on the estate next to her
father, the Earl of Carstairs. The two girls were of an age and had
been drawn together by strange circumstances that neither were
privy to. It was just a feeling they had had about each other.

Apparently, Aurora had fallen on somewhat hard times
after the death of her parents.

Verena had heard of her parents’ deaths. It was
close enough to a year ago that no one would care if she came out
of mourning a few weeks early to enjoy the Season. Verena did
wonder, however, why Aurora would come to Town with her lack of
funds. Was she looking for a husband?

Connor and Verena Northwicke—technically the
Marquess and Marchioness of Beverley although they did not make use
of the Duke of Denbigh’s second title—had decided to “do” the
Season that year. Of course, their children, one-year-old twins
Rhys and Juliana and nearly three-month-old Damien, came with them.
Verena never left her children. She preferred to be their mother
instead of following the tradition of letting them be raised by
nurses and nannies, then governesses and tutors before packing the
boys off to school and university and sending the girls to a
finishing school before selling them to the highest bidders on the
marriage mart.

Verena would have stopped in to welcome her only
childhood friend had baby Damien not developed a cough. Nearly all
her days—and nights—were spent with him in the nursery much to her
husband’s chagrin—and sexual frustration.

~~~~~~

Lord Connor took himself off to his clubs more often
than usual. Several times he happened to see Levi playing cards
with his cronies and more often with that snake Percival
Winters.

“
Levi, fancy meeting you here,”
Connor commented ironically one evening after Verena had
sequestered herself in the nursery. The young lord settled himself
morosely into the chair just vacated by the earl’s friend, Lord
Delwyn Deverell, younger son of the Duke of Traverhurst. Lord
Delwyn apparently had somewhere else he needed to be. And quickly,
too, if his nervous glance and swift pace were any
indication.