Ten Ways to Be Adored When Landing a Lord (32 page)

“Nonsense,” Leighton scoffed. “You are the sister to the Duke of Leighton. You deserve to have a life that is worthy of a duchess.”

A little smile played across Georgiana’s lips. “And what makes you think that living here is not that life? ”

“For heaven’s sake, Georgiana. Look at this place.”

Nick watched as Isabel opened her mouth to defend the Park before thinking better of it. She met his gaze and closed her mouth. He nodded his approval.
Good girl.
This was not her battle to fight.

“I like it here. And Lady Isabel has generously offered me a place.”

Disbelief flooded Leighton’s face. “A place?”

The girl nodded. “Governess to the earl.”

The duke looked to Nick, then to Isabel, then back to his sister. “Governess? “ he thundered. “You are
employed
here? ”

Isabel stepped in then. “It is not, precisely, employment, Your Grace.”

“Oh? What is it then, Lady Isabel?”

“It is more a question of each of the residents of the Park doing what they can for the good of the larger community.”

Isabel trying to explain the reason behind the bizarre world that operated within the walls of the Park was an amusing thing, indeed. If the situation were not so serious, Nick might have laughed. But he had a very real concern that Leighton was in danger of throttling Isabel or his sister or both—which was not at all amusing.

“So if I were to pay for a governess for your brother, my sister would be allowed to go without working.”

Isabel paused, pursing her lips. Nick decided the expression was rather darling. “No, not precisely.”

“I would not want such a thing, anyway, Simon,” Georgiana interjected.

The duke lost his patience. “This is ridiculous. You are coming home with me.”

Georgiana looked to Isabel, who nodded once in a silent show of support. Georgiana took a deep, steadying breath. “No. I am not.”

Leighton scowled. “I’m afraid you haven’t a choice. I am your brother and guardian.”

“Simon.” The girl’s voice grew soft, filled with sisterly love. “I know you are worried about me. I know you want me to come home. But please understand that I cannot. Not right now. I like it here. I feel that I belong here. I am safe here.”

Simon bowed his head, and Nick felt a pang of sympathy for him, this man who had never been denied anything in his entire life. He was confused and uncertain and he wanted to make this situation, which he did not understand, better. Nick had come to understand that sense of helplessness most acutely over the last six days. It seemed that the women of Minerva House were rather expert in developing it in the men around them.

What the girl did not know was that, ultimately, her secret would out. Isabel could hide her for only so long. It was merely a matter of time before news traveled that the Duke of Leighton’s sister was increasing in Yorkshire, bringing a scandal of epic proportions down on Leighton’s head. And his house.

The duke should be prepared to face it.

But it was not Nick’s information to share.

The duke lifted his head. “Tell me what has happened.”

There was desperation in his voice, a bare emotion that Nick recognized as more human, more feeling than he had ever seen the man show. Suddenly, there was no place for him and Isabel in this room. Shifting his attention to Georgiana, he saw the tears well in her eyes, the subtle, uncontrollable trembling of her lower lip, and he was moved to act.

He met Isabel’s discomfited gaze, saw that she, too, recognized the private nature of this moment. “It is time the two of you speak without an audience,” he said, crossing the room to her side and ushering her to the door. “We will wait for you outside.”

Neither sibling responded, remaining still as Nick and Isabel exited the room.

At the sound of the door finding its seat, Isabel spun toward him, concern in her eyes. “She is going to tell him.”

“Yes.”

She began to pace the foyer, lost in thought. He watched as she wrung her hands, the motion unlocking something deep within him. Here was a woman who cared deeply. Who loved powerfully.
What would it be like to be on the receiving end of such emotion?
Finally, she turned to him again.

“What will he do?”

He took a long moment to think, leaning against the banister of the wide stone staircase that dominated the space. Leighton had always been proper. He’d always been staid and stoic and resistant to change or to anything that might sully his name. He’d always been the type to look down his nose at the baseness of others. When the St. John twins had received news of a half sister arrived from Italy earlier that year, it had not escaped Nick’s attention that Leighton had distanced himself from them at society functions.

He did not like scandal.

And there were few scandals more devastating than a pregnant, unmarried sister.

Isabel was standing mere inches from him, brown eyes wide and worried and beautiful, and his heart ached for her.

“I don’t know what he will do.” He reached out and took her fidgeting hands in his own, clasping them firmly and commanding her attention. “But whatever happens, the girl will be safe. I swear that to you.”

She searched his gaze for a long moment. “I want to believe you. So very much.”

But she didn’t.

She was not willing to trust him again. Not yet. Perhaps not ever.

And that truth hurt him more than he could have imagined.

“Isabel—” He did not know what he could say to change her mind, and so it was likely best that the door to the study opened then, drawing their attention.

Leighton stood in the massive doorway, stone-faced.

He had not taken the news well.

Isabel was already moving toward the study, eager to get to Georgiana, to comfort the girl. Leighton’s words stopped her in her tracks. “I should like to speak with you both.”

Isabel
—strong, brave girl
—met the duke’s cold stare. “Your sister, Your Grace. She needs me.”

If possible, Leighton’s face became more unmoving. “I have no sister. Not today. And the woman in that room”—he paused, and in that brief silence, Nick understood the powerful battle raging within his friend—“she can wait. If you wish to remain mistress of this place, Lady Isabel, you will hear me. Immediately.”

There was an unpleasant, imperious threat in the words, one that Isabel knew better than to ignore. She squared her shoulders, not taking her gaze from the duke. With a firm “Certainly, Your Grace,” she led the way to the library.

Once inside, Leighton moved to the fireplace, staring down into the darkened hearth. There was a long silence, then: “I imagine that mine is not the only family that would be rocked by scandal if this place were found.”

Isabel took a step toward him. “No, Your Grace.”

Nick admired her for her truth in that moment.

Leighton looked over his shoulder at her briefly. “There is a part of me that wants to bring this house to rubble.”

She rocked back on her heels at the venom in his voice. She turned to Nick, and he registered the silent plea in her gaze.
He must defuse the situation.
He moved, leaning against a nearby pillar in an approximation of calm. “It is not the house, Leighton. And you know it.”

“Without this house, she would have been—”

“Without this house, she would still have been in her predicament,” Nick pointed out, drawing the duke’s hateful glare. “She simply would have had nowhere to run. You should thank Isabel for taking her in.”

“Yes, well, I don’t think that is going to happen quite yet.” The duke turned then, meeting Isabel’s gaze. “The way I see it, Lady Isabel, I have two options. The first, I bring the magistrate down upon your head and take the scandal I have coming now.” Isabel did not respond, remaining stoic under the angry barrage. “The second, I let her stay her. She bears the child. And the scandal comes later. At a time I cannot predict. Because you cannot reasonably protect yourself or your residents, and it is only a matter of time before everything is made public.” He turned to Nick then. “If you were in my position, St. John, which would you choose? ”

Nick felt Isabel’s gaze on him, knew that she was willing him to choose the second option. He also knew that any reasonable person would choose the first. If scandal were to rock a family, it was best that it do so at a time of the family’s choosing, so that they were prepared, so that they could arm themselves against the gossipmongers.

But there was nothing reasonable about this situation for Nick. He wanted Isabel safe. He wanted her girls safe. And there was only one way to ensure such a thing.

“I would choose the latter.”

Leighton laughed, the sound humorless. “You would not.”

“I would in this case. Because there is a factor that you have not considered.”

Isabel could no longer remain quiet. “There is? ”

He looked at her then, registering her uncertainty, her surprise, and behind it all, her fear. “There is. We are to be married. Which puts Lady Georgiana—and her circumstances—under my protection.”

The duke crossed his arms and turned to Isabel. “Is this true?”

Isabel shook her head, her face pale. “No. I never said I would marry him.”

Her denial cut Nick to the quick. The idea that she might not marry him after yesterday—after last night—was unacceptable. Anger flared, along with hurt and irritation. Years of practice kept them from surfacing.

Instead, he turned to cool humor. “Your memory is failing you, Isabel. You said you would marry me yesterday morning.” He paused, waiting for her to meet his gaze. “In the statuary. Don’t you remember?”

Of course she remembered. She gasped at the words. “That was before everything changed!“

“Indeed, it was. Before it became an imperative.” The insinuation in the words sent a blush across her cheeks.

“That’s not what I meant and you know it!“

“I know precisely what you mean. I also know I am not leaving here without marrying you.”

“I don’t need you. We are fine by ourselves.”

I don’t need you.

The statement set him off. “Yes, I see that. Because you’ve got a houseful of women in hiding with no protection for them and God only knows how many ruffians hunting for you after Leighton put out his call, a house, I might add, that is literally falling down around you, not to mention a child who needs more training than most pups I’ve met and has inherited one of the most troubled earldoms in the country, the sister of a duke about to bear a bastard child, and … you’ve been compromised! But you are
fine.

“You think that asking for help makes you weak. What makes you weak is your naïve insistence that if you say you need no one, you will be able to hold everything together! Of course you need me! You need a battalion to keep this place out of trouble!” His voice rose to a thunder. “How can you possibly think that I
wouldn’t
marry you, you madwoman? His words echoed in the room for a long moment, and Isabel’s eyes welled with tears. He immediately regretted his words. “Isabel,” he said softly, reaching for her, wanting to take it all back.

She held up a hand, staying his motion. “No.” She turned to Leighton, “If those are my options, Your Grace, then obviously I choose the one that is least likely to ruin Townsend Park.”

The duke cleared his throat. “If what St. John has said is true, I must insist you marry, Lady Isabel, as a gentleman.” She nodded.

“I shall send for a minister.”

She nodded again, her lips pressed in a thin line, as though she were holding back tears. And then she ran from the room, leaving Nick feeling like an ass. Frustration flared. “I shall send for a minister, dammit.”

As if it mattered.

He moved to go after her, eager to explain himself.

To apologize.

To do what he could to win her.

“I would not, if I were you,” the duke intoned.

Nick turned on him. “Oh, and your actions with women today seem so very on point, Leighton.”

“She shall come around.”

“Yes, well, I’m not so sure. She is not like other women.” “I had not noticed.”

Nick moved to sit in a nearby chair, holding his head in his hands. “I’m an ass.”

Leighton took the seat across from him and removed a cheroot from the silver case in his pocket, lighting it. “You shan’t get an argument from me.”

Nick looked up. “You’re an ass, as well, you know.”

“I suppose I am.” The duke sighed. “Goddammit. Pregnant. She’s only seventeen. Not even out.”

“You can’t ignore her forever.”

“No … but I can give it some effort.”

“She’s a good girl, Leighton. She does not deserve your anger.”

“I do not want to think on her.” The words brooked no discussion. There was silence for a while, before he added, “So you are in love with the lady.”

Nick sat back in the chair, staring up at the ceiling.
Of course he was in love with her. She was the most remarkable person he’d ever known.
“God help me, I am.”