Ripe for Scandal (29 page)

“No matter the cost or scandal?”

“What does it matter anymore?” Beau said. “Either I’m married to a bigamist and I’m ruined, or this is all part of Granby’s
grand scheme of revenge. My reputation is a house of cards, and it’s going to come tumbling down one way or another. But before
it’s all settled, I intend to have Jamie back and see Granby dead.”

CHAPTER 41

A
knock at the outer door of Gareth’s suite of rooms in Old Bond Street was immediately followed by the sound of the door swinging
open. Gareth let the ends of the neckcloth that he was tying flutter loose. He stepped out of his bedroom and into the small
front room that served as drawing room, office, and dining room to find Devere, who he’d known was there, bowing over Beau’s
hand, while Leo leaned against the mantelpiece.

“Beau?” Gareth’s pulse leapt at the sight of her. He glanced around the room. Leo shrugged and indicated with his chin that
the visit was entirely Beau’s doing.

“Were you already married when you married me?” Beau said.

The room spun, nothing but his wife’s concerned face remaining steady. Gareth tried to formulate a response, but the words
wouldn’t come.

“Because someone thinks you were,” Vaughn said. “Furthermore, they’re purporting that your supposed bastard is, in fact, legitimate,
and that his mother is still alive.”

“Which is ridiculous,” Beau said, her voice begging him to refute the charges. “No one is that stupid.”

The word
damn
rebounded through his head like a drumbeat, getting louder with every beat of his heart. Devere glanced heavenward and gave
him an exasperated look. Betray his brother or his wife. That was the choice he was left with, and it really wasn’t a choice
at all.

“No one except, perhaps, Souttar,” Gareth said. The statement filled the room until it felt as though the walls were straining
to contain it and might fly apart at any moment.

Gareth watched Beau’s face as the truth sank in. There was a flash of anger that quickly settled into an expression of sheer
hurt that left her eyes looking bruised.

“Souttar? And you didn’t tell me?”

“It wasn’t my secret to tell. And it’s not just about Souttar. His wife—”

“Which one?” Vaughn said with a hint of a drawl. “He seems to have a surfeit.”

“Stop helping!” Gareth glared at him, only to be struck by the sudden wicked glint in his eyes. “You would choose such a moment
to forgive me, damn you.”

“If Jamie’s mother is alive, Lady Souttar is ruined.” Beau put her hand over her mouth, as though the words frightened her.

“You didn’t care when it was you,” her brother said, his tone verging on exasperation. “Can’t you be happy it’s someone else
for a change?”

“No, I can’t.” Beau rounded on her brother. “It’s monstrous. I know Olivia. We made our curtsies to the queen together, shared
our first season. And if Souttar
was—is—married to Jamie’s mother, then Jamie is the heir to an earldom. And you”—she turned back toward Gareth—“were going
to help take that away from him.”

Gareth held up his hand placatingly. “It was for the greater good.”

“Not Jamie’s greater good,” Beau said, face flushed with anger.

“You can’t have it both ways, Beau,” Gareth replied, stating the bald, ugly truth. “Someone had to lose. I had to weigh Jamie’s
birthright against my family’s good name and your friend’s reputation.”

Beau nodded, but the set of her jaw was still mutinous. “Granby thinks Jamie is yours and that I’m the one who’ll be ruined
if the truth comes out.”

“So he’s probably out looking for Jamie’s mother, or proof of Jamie’s legitimacy, as we speak,” Devere said.

“Then we’d best be doing the same,” Vaughn said, sounding as if he was relishing the idea. “Following the same trail is the
best way to find Granby and the boy.”

Beau sat at Gareth’s desk and combed out her hair. It was a tangled mess from her roof-top journey. When she was done, she
plaited it and twisted the end several times around her finger so the curl would hold the plait.

“Any idea where to start looking?” she said.

Gareth shook his head. “Nothing more specific than
Scotland
. I was thinking of attempting to trick my brother into helping.”

“How so?” She got up and joined him by the fire. He held the toasting fork out to her, and she plucked the piece of toasted
bread and melted cheese off with her fingers.

“Well.” He settled down beside her on the floor and began toasting another bit of bread and cheese. “If Souttar thinks he’s
about to be exposed, he might just help us get to the information first so we can cover it up.”

“Or he might attempt to do so himself.”

“Souttar being a great deal easier to find and follow than Granby.”

Beau nodded and blew on the hot cheese before taking a bite. “So you’re going to put the fear of God into your brother?”

“Well, the fear of our father finding out what he’s done at any rate. I’m fairly certain Souttar is far more afraid of the
earl than he is of any member of the Holy Trinity.” Gareth flicked his queue back over his shoulder as he leaned closer to
the fire.

Beau swallowed the last of her cheese toast and reached for her wine. “Is this really how bachelors live? On toasted bread
and wine?”

“And the occasional meat pie.”

“Or cup of
blue ruin
,” Beau said with a teasing smile.

“Have you ever had gin?”

Beau shook her head. “No, but I should like to try it.”

“No, you wouldn’t, brat,” Gareth said with a laugh. “It tastes like rotting fruit and half the stuff out there will make you
go blind.”

“Then I’ll stick with arrack.” She took another sip of wine. “Leo mostly ate at his clubs when he wasn’t dining with the family.
Don’t a lot of men do that?”

“Those who can afford clubs, yes. But I can hardly take you there for supper.”

“You could take me to The Red Lion,” Beau said.

“No, I really couldn’t.”

Beau stuck her lower lip out in an exaggerated show of faux petulance. He looked horrified at the very idea, cementing her
desire to go. She accepted another cheese toast and blew on it.

“I can’t stop worrying about Jamie,” she said, staring down at the bubbling cheese, suddenly not hungry in the slightest.

“I know, love,” Gareth said, eyes soft and sympathetic. “But Granby took him for a reason. He’ll take care of him until we
get him back.”

“I keep telling myself the same thing, but I have a hard time believing it.”

“Money or power. That’s what it comes down to. Either he’ll want money, in which case we’ll manage it, or he’ll want to control
us—which I think far more likely, given his previous behavior. And if that’s the case, we turn his demands against him.”

“You make it sound simple.”

“It is simple. There are two options. We win, or we lose. And I don’t intend to lose.”

CHAPTER 42

F
our days later, they were rolling up the long drive of the Earl of Roxwell’s seat. Beau took a deep breath, held it, and let
it go slowly. Gareth was dozing beside her, long legs angled across the interior of the coach, feet propped up on the opposite
seat.

“Gareth?” she said. He opened his eyes, dark brows slanting down. “What if Souttar—or Jamie’s mother—wants Jamie back?”

“Souttar? Don’t be daft. And if his mother wanted him, she wouldn’t have foisted him on Souttar in the first place.” He shut
his eyes again.

“But what if he does? Or what if she changes her mind when she figures out that Jamie’s going to be an earl?”

Gareth sighed but didn’t bother to open his eyes. “There isn’t the smallest chance that my brother will want anything to do
with Jamie, regardless of how this all turns out, and there’s even less of a chance of my father allowing some cutler’s daughter
anywhere near his heir.”

“So you think Lord Roxwell might claim him.”

“You mean if Jamie really is Souttar’s heir?” Gareth turned his head and looked at her. “My father’s reaction is likely to
be unpredictable under those circumstances. You’re correct on that count. But I find it doubtful that the earl will want to
be saddled with the living evidence of Souttar’s folly and will be content to be guardian in name only.”

Beau tucked herself into his side and dropped her head back onto his shoulder. “Good.”

Gareth gave her a reassuring squeeze as the coach stopped. “Ready?”

Beau nodded but found herself staring open-mouthed at the house. It was plain. Severe. An enormous three-story box, the front
entrance centered and set back, flanked on either side by a column of epic proportion.

“You grew up here?” A cold shudder ran down her spine.

Gareth’s mouth quirked into a smile. “It’s every bit as charming on the inside,” he said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “You’ll
see in a moment.” He put a hand at the small of her back and urged her forward. “Father’s inordinately proud of the place,
so pretend your horror is awe.”

The door opened, and the butler’s face practically shimmered as he restrained his smile. “Master Gareth, were we expecting
you?”

“No, Bradfield, my wife and I are on our way to visit her parents in Scotland, and I wanted to show her the old place. Mrs.
Sandison, this is Bradfield. Best butler in all of Britain. I’d steal him from the earl if Morton Hall wasn’t entirely beneath
his dignity.”

Beau nodded, and Bradfield finally gave in and smiled as he bowed. The entry hall that he ushered them into was
large and square, with an open colonnade circling it on the second story. The walls and pillars were of the same yellow stone
as the façade of the house. The entire thing looked as though it were based on ruins. Her father, classical scholar that he
was, would have loved it.

Beau glanced around with interest. She could just make out that there were paintings lining the upstairs walkway, interspersed
with doors and the occasional commode.

“Is Souttar about?” Gareth said causally, as though it didn’t matter in the slightest.

Beau licked her lips and tried not to appear as nervous as she felt. They needed his brother to be here and to corner him
away from the earl.