A Scandalous Charade (26 page)

Staveley shook his head. “Lord Albert has already been by, Luke. Lady Juliet isn’t here. My wife may be a bit meddlesome, but she would never harbor the girl from her family. Neither would I.”

Luke felt sick. How could no one know where she was? How could his sister not know? She made it her business to know everything—irritatingly so, most of the time.

The idea that his princess was out there, all alone, dealing with Georgie’s death made his heart ache.

Staveley rose from his seat and smiled at his wife. “If you’ve got this under control, sweetheart, I’ll be off. I’m sure James and Alexander are wondering what’s happened to me.”

Caroline stood on her tiptoes and pressed a kiss to his cheek. “Love you.”

“I love you too.” Staveley caressed Caroline’s back and then tipped his head toward Luke. “I’m sure Lady Juliet is fine, Beckford. She’s a smart girl.”

Luke forced a smile to his lips and nodded in response. “Cheers, Staveley.” Once they were alone, Luke roughly rubbed his hands across his brow and turned his attention back to his sister. “Someone has to know where she is, Caroline.”

“Well, I’m sure someone does,” she answered with a slight edge to her voice. “What would you do if you found her?”

That was a very good question. What would he do? He didn’t want to live without her anymore. He wanted her by his side every hour of everyday.  But convincing her of that would take a miracle, especially after all the events of the last few weeks. His desertion. Georgie’s death. And whatever else he didn’t know. “I don’t know.”

His sister smiled tightly. “Well, when you figure that out, why don’t you tell me?”

Luke narrowed his eyes on Caroline. Suspicion crept in. It seemed as if she knew more than she was saying, and she hadn’t come out and denied knowing where Juliet was. She’d been very crafty with her selection of words. “You know where she is.”

She crossed her arms across her chest and rolled her eyes heavenward. “Where do you get these ideas? Honestly, Luke, have you ever known Staveley to lie? Feel free to search the place if you like.”

No. Staveley wouldn’t lie. He was as straight an arrow as they came. Luke rubbed his temples. If he’d known about Juliet earlier, he would have… What would he have done? How was he in any better shape now than he would have been a sennight ago? “Albert St. Claire says she left a note for Carraway, saying she’d come for Edmund after they arrive back in England. He thinks she’s somewhere close. But damn it, Caroline, she doesn’t have any friends she’d go to for help. None that I can think of.”

“If she’d come to me, I would have helped her. She’s lost Georgie, and I intend to fill that role for her in the future. And in doing so, I’ll protect her—even from you. So bear that in mind. If you find her and hurt her again, Lucas, you won’t be welcome here anymore. Not to see me. Not to see the children.”

He stared at his sister in disbelief. She was notorious for berating him, but she’d never once threatened to bar him from her person.

Caroline thrust out her chin and continued, “I swore to Georgie that you would never hurt Juliet, and I was wrong. I won’t make that mistake again. That girl doesn’t have anyone left to look after her, not anymore.”

Luke dropped his head in his hands. “I swear to you, Caroline, I didn’t intend to hurt her. I didn’t intend to fall in love with her either. I just needed time to sort things out in my mind. Which is why I went to Yorkshire in the first place. Then I returned home to this.”

Caroline quietly sat on the settee and kept her eyes steady on him. “You really love her?”

He smiled sadly. Of course that was the first thing Caroline latched onto. Luke took a huge breath. There was no point denying it—not to her. She was probably one of the few people who would understand anyway. “More than anything.”

Caroline frowned and studied him for a long moment before she finally spoke. “You should go home to Gosling Park, Luke.”

He scoffed at the suggestion. “Why they devil would I want to see Robert?” Truly that was the last place on earth he’d want to be.

She stood up and started for the door, throwing a look over her shoulder at him. “Don’t be dense. Go. To. Gosling. Park.”

***

Caroline saw what she hoped was understanding in her brother’s eyes. She hadn’t come out and told him Juliet was at Gosling Park. Besides she wasn’t there yet, so she hadn’t broken her promise. Not technically. Miss Mitford and the children were still at Masten House for a few more days. But she couldn’t risk sending Luke there, not with Albert St. Claire in Town. It would be better for them to interact in Dorset, away from the bustle of Town. They loved each other, of that she was certain. So they just needed a little help finding their way back to one another.

Robert would probably berate her if he found out she sent Luke there, especially as things were so fragile with Lydia at the moment. But Caroline was certain that everything would be for the best. Luke wouldn’t interfere with Robert and Lydia’s budding romance, and Robert would be too busy fawning over his wife to notice Luke and Juliet. 

It was perfect.

Caroline just wished she could be there herself.

~ 20 ~

 Luke flew through the doors to his rooms in Piccadilly. Juliet was in Gosling Park. Caroline might as well have yelled it from the rafters. Though what his princess was doing at his ancestral home, he didn’t have a clue. And if she was there with Robert, his brother was probably poisoning her mind ever more against him. He’d never been a choir boy, and Robert had often had to clean up the messes Luke had created. He needed to get to Dorset quickly.

There was a mountain of correspondence waiting for him, and Luke frowned at the pile inside his front door. Before Juliet had entered his life, he could have been gone from home for a year and he wouldn’t have had this much to go through. Invitations were strewn left and right, but something caught his attention—a calling card. He picked it up from the pile and turned it over in his hand and stared at a scrawled note on the back. Mr. Cooper, a Bow Street Runner, wanted to discuss the theft of Louisa Ridgemont’s emerald pendant with him. What the devil was that about?

Then his heart thudded as he recognized the Masten crest on one letter. Robert rarely sent him any correspondence. Did it have something to do with Juliet? He discarded the Bow Street calling card and tore open the note from his brother.

Lucas,

I am starting back for Gosling Park in the morning, but tonight I received a disturbing visit from Mr. Cooper of Bow Street. I do not presume to understand what would have possessed you to take Lady Ridgemont’s emerald pendant, but you will return it with great haste. Aside from being extremely disappointed in your actions, I do not appreciate having to deal with your scurrilous activities. Pray see to it that I do not have to do so in the future.

Masten

It was in the same vein as most of Robert’s letters, which was why Luke usually chose to ignore his brother’s missives. It did not surprise him that Louisa had invented some wild tale to get his attention, but he did frown at the fact that she’d involved a detective from Bow Street. Truly, what did she expect to gain from this little display?

However, Louisa had unknowingly helped him gain entrance to Gosling Park.  He folded Robert’s letter and stuffed it into his pocket. This was his ticket to Juliet.

***

All things considered, Luke made fairly good time to his brother’s seaside estate in Dorset. As his coach got closer and closer, he could taste the salt in the air. Funny, that always took him back to his childhood. To racing Caroline across the north lawn. Watching ships travel back and forth across the coast. Hearing his mother’s lilting voice. No matter where he ended up, Gosling Park would always be home.

As his coach rolled to a stop, Luke looked through the curtains at the massive medieval castle that loomed above him. He smiled up at the vine covered tower that was closest to his position on the circular drive. It had been so long since he’d been home that he’d forgotten how foreboding it appeared. Growing up here, he hadn’t appreciated the sheer magnitude of the property.  As a boy he’d thought it had been great fun playing in the keep, the courtyard, and the towers.

Before he entered the castle, there was someplace he had to go first.

Luke had always loved the gardens at Gosling Park and he made his way there. The gardens reminded him of his mother, and he’d swear her spirit still resided amongst her beloved flowers. She had been beautiful with golden locks, clear green eyes, and the face of an angel—he was the only one of her children that favored her. She was so young when she’d died, and Luke was just a small child, but he could still remember her kneeling over her flowering bushes, clipping off dead ends, and caressing her roses, careful not to touch any thorns.

He started down one of the paths, toward a bench he and Caroline had used from time to time to hide from their governess as children. Today there was someone sitting on the bench, and for a split second he thought it was Juliet. But as he crept closer, his heart stopped for an entirely different reason.

With her pretty face pointed to the sky and her strawberry blond hair shimmering radiantly in the sunlight was the one woman Luke tried not to ever think about—Lydia.

His sister-in-law, the Countess of Masten.

She’d been only sixteen when he’d seduced her at a country house party hosted by Caroline’s late in-laws. Luke cringed at the memory. At the time, she’d captivated him by her beauty and perceived innocence. But Lydia was far from the innocent she had appeared, and he had immediately regretted the entire experience. Then the worst had happened. The late Lord Staveley had stumbled upon them in a most compromising situation, but there wasn’t anything anyone could have said or done that would have made him marry the little tart.

It wasn’t until later that he realized that his morally upstanding brother had married the girl in his place. Most of the time, Luke tried not to think about that, as it was one of the few things in life he ever felt guilty over. Though he and Robert couldn’t be more different, his brother did deserve better than Lydia.

For years, Robert had kept Lydia isolated at his estate in Cheshire. Image meant more than anything to Robert, and he wasn’t about to have his scandalous wife running about London. For once Luke had been pleased that Robert was wholly rigid and unforgiving, in that he never had to worry about facing Lydia again.

But here she sat at Gosling Park.

Unfortunately, Lydia was even lovelier than she had been at sixteen. He sighed and folded his arms across his chest, watching the young siren bask in the sun. He was confused completely by her appearance in Dorset.

“Watch yourself,” he finally drawled smoothly. “You don’t want to get freckles. Most unbecoming of a countess.”

Lydia opened her eyes and spun around. She stared at him in a disbelief that echoed his own. The girl was still gorgeous and he could easily remember his naïve desire to have her. She must have sensed his thoughts, because her face suddenly flushed red and she took a deep intake of air.

Luke laughed with an easy charm. “It’s been a long time, Lydia.”

“Mr. Beckford!” she finally managed to choke out. “What the devil are you doing here?”

He could ask her that same question. There was no doubt from the look in her eyes that she was just as unhappy to see him as he was to see her. Luke raised his brow. “What a warm reception from my dear sister-in-law.” Then he patted his coat pocket. “King Robert has summoned me, and like the good subject I am, I’ve answered his call.”

A look of confusion crossed Lydia’s face and she just sat there gaping at him. With a grin Luke offered her his arm, which she regarded with the warmth of an approaching asp. Again, Luke laughed. “I promise not to bite, Lydia—unless, of course, you ask me to.”

She refused his arm and scowled at him. “At the risk of being rude, Mr. Beckford, I think I’ll remain here. Following you got me into a spot of trouble last time. Besides, I don’t think my husband would approve.”

He was surprised that Lydia cared at all about what Robert thought. Curiosity was now killing him, so Luke sank down onto the bench beside her and smiled. “Oh, Robert never approves of anything, love. So, tell me however did you break out of Blackstone? Chisel and hammer? Or something more dastardly? Really, I’m dying to find out.”

Abruptly, she stood up and backed away from him. “Forgive me, but I have things to attend to. Good day, Mr. Beckford.”

Quickly, she started down the garden path toward the manor house, but Luke was not about to be dismissed so easily and he quickly snared her waist in his hands. “Not so fast, Lady Masten.”

Lydia turned in his arms and looked up at him in what he was sure was feigned surprise. “Unhand me this instant, you cad!”

After five years, Luke had nearly forgotten what a good little actress she was—pretending to be pure and innocent, when she was anything but. How big a fool did she think he still was? With a smirk on his face, he released her. “We’re not yet finished, Lydia—you and I.”

She glared at him. Bright blue eyes had turned a stormy gray. “We were finished when you abandoned me to your brother’s wrath.”

He was not going to accept that blame. He hadn’t made Robert propose. In fact, now that he thought about it, Robert may have been her target all along. Robert was the Earl of Masten, after all. Robert was as rich as Croesus. Robert could make her a countess. But Robert wasn’t one to dally with little tarts posing as innocent misses. No, that had been Luke. He raised an eyebrow and met her scathing gaze. “That hasn’t been such a bad deal, has it? I mean the fool did marry you. You’re now the Countess of Masten, not a position you could’ve aspired to without my help.”