A Scandalous Deception (3 page)

Fin heaved a sigh and scrubbed a hand across
his brow. Maddening chit.
He
looked forward. He looked
forward everyday he was in the Lords. He looked forward everyday he
tried to make England better for her people. He looked forward
everyday he tried to be a good example for Edmund. Just because he
didn’t cavort with merry widows or spend his time chasing after
this year’s incomparable, whoever the devil she might be, didn’t
mean he was living in the past. He missed Georgie. He loved
Georgie. He would until the day he died. But he was living in the
present.

“If you’re done scolding me,” Lissy began,
breaking into Fin’s thoughts, “then I’d like to return to the
ballroom now.”

Fin scowled. Damnation, she could drive a
saint mad. “I’m not scolding you. I’m trying to guide you.”

Her pert little nose lifted high in the air.
“The last I checked, Fin, you were Edmund’s guardian, not mine.
I
don’t need your guidance.”

On the contrary, she was most definitely in
need of a strong hand, something her father should have provided
before his death, not that he could voice as much to her. “Then as
Edmund’s guardian, might I ask you to please be wary of the
companions you choose? Your actions will, of course, reflect on
your brother and his name.”

“That is the most ridiculous thing I’ve ever
heard.” Lissy shook her head, and her flaxen curls bobbed against
her shoulders. “Edmund is barely at Eton. I don’t think his
reputation is in any danger. Now, if you’ll excuse me.” She started
for the door and turned the handle.

A moment later, she was gone and Fin was
alone, like he had been for so long. He looked up at the ceiling
above him as though guidance might come from on high. That was
ridiculous, of course. But Felicity always vexed him, she always
left him speechless and doubting his very sanity.

He did envy her ability to leave Captain
Pierce and their dreams of a future that could never be behind her,
however. He envied her ability to live every day with abandon. Fin
could never do that. His obligations to his nephew, to his title,
to his country weighed heavily on his shoulders. He couldn’t even
imagine living the carefree life Lissy led. But she wasn’t
thinking.

All of that aside, Fin did wish Lissy would
take her role in society more seriously. Her actions would reflect
on Edmund, no matter how much she protested otherwise. He needed to
keep a closer eye on her, that much was evident.

Lissy stepped back into the Astwick ballroom,
and her heart leapt to her throat. Good heavens! At the far side of
the room, she spotted Mr. John Heaton from Boston, tall and
handsome as always, talking with the aged Earl and Countess of
Littleworth. What in the world was Mr. Heaton doing here? Lissy’s
breath shortened as she backed out of the ballroom, hoping against
hope the American hadn’t spotted her as well. If he had, how would
she ever explain her presence, her living and breathing
presence?

“There you are!” Phoebe Avery said from the
ballroom entrance.

Several heads turned in Lissy’s direction.
Without a second thought, she lifted her skirts and bolted down the
corridor.

“Lissy!” Phoebe called after her, and Lissy’s
heart nearly stopped. Of all the infernal times for someone to yell
her name.

Lissy raced back towards the parlor she’d
shared with Fin. She rushed over the threshold and was more than
relieved to find the room empty. She shut the door behind her and
sank against it. She had no hope of barring anyone from entering if
they truly wanted to, but it made her feel a bit safer.

Lissy stared at her reflection in the mirror.
Heavens, she looked a decade older than her nineteen years. Of
course, she’d tossed and turned all night long, plagued with
nightmares and memories of her brief marriage.

The circles under her eyes spoke of the
terrors she tried to keep hidden during the light of day, of the
secrets she hoped no one would ever discover. She hadn’t thought
about Aaron in any real way for so long, it was almost as though he
was, himself, a bad nightmare, a figment of the blackest parts of
her imagination. She was certain her terrible night was all on an
account of having spotted John Heaton at the Astwicks’. That, and
Fin’s incessant questions about her
dead
husband. If it
was
Mr. Heaton that she’d seen the previous night. She
couldn’t be entirely sure. Regardless, seeing the man, whoever he
was, brought her mind shooting back to those terrible days in
Boston and the truth that she had tried so hard to forget. Not that
she could ever truly forget them, but the further she got from
Massachusetts, the longer she’d been back in England, the easier it
was to tell herself that those awful months had never really
happened.

They had happened, however. No matter how
much she wished they hadn’t. Some scars could never heal, even if
she pretended they didn’t exist.

When a hand landed on Felicity’s elbow, she
yelped and nearly shot out of her skin. Her head spun to the side
where she caught the frightened expression on her maid’s face.

Annie touched a hand to her own heart. “Are
you all right, my lady?”

Feeling like the biggest ninny in all of
England for being frightened by the mere slip of her own lady’s
maid, Lissy took a steadying breath and patted Annie’s hand. “I was
just woolgathering. I didn’t mean to startle you.”

“I didn’t mean to startle
you
,” Annie
insisted. “I am terribly sorry, my lady.”

But it wasn’t Annie’s fault, so Lissy smiled
her warmest smile and shook her head. “Nothing to apologize for.
But I am hoping you can do something about these circles, Annie.”
She touched a hand to her cheek. “I look a fright, and I was
supposed to go walking with Lady Arabella this morning.”

“A bit of cucumbers ought to do the trick, my
lady,” Annie said as she started for the door. “I’ll be back in a
trice.”

But there was no need to rush. Lissy didn’t
have to meet Bella for a few more hours, and though the idea of
going out in public after spotting the man who looked so very much
like John Heaton the previous evening twisted Lissy’s stomach, she
tried to push all thoughts of her former neighbor, of Boston and
most especially of Aaron Pierce far from her mind. Mr. Heaton
wouldn’t be walking Rotten Row even
if
it was him she’d seen
at the Astwicks’ the night before. Besides, she wouldn’t cower in
the corner of her chambers the rest of her life all because of an
if
she wasn’t entirely certain of.

Lissy leaned closer towards the mirror, her
reflection looking back at her, a weary expression in her eyes. She
did look a mess. Hopefully Annie would be able to work some sort of
miracle this morning.

After but a moment, her maid scampered back
into Lissy’s chambers, a small bowl of cut cucumbers in her hand.
“Do sit down, my lady,” Annie said, gesturing to a chintz chair
just a few feet away.

Dutifully, Lissy sat. She leaned back and
closed her eyes. “I’d like my blue walking gown today too,
Annie.”

“Of course, ma’am. I pressed it yesterday.”
The first cool cucumber landed over Lissy’s right eye. “Oh!
Crawford says Lord Carraway sent a missive for you first thing this
morning.”

Lissy opened her left eye to look at her
maid. “Tell him he can return it, unopened.” Then she closed her
eye once more.

“Unopened?” Annie asked as she placed a
cucumber over Lissy’s left eye.

“Mmm,” Lissy returned. After the way Fin had
behaved the night before, he could go hang. She wasn’t about to
dance to tear open his letter only to discover a fresh set of
criticisms this morning.

Then again, it might be an apology…

Lissy nearly snorted at the thought. In all
the years she’d known Phineas Granard, she couldn’t recall him
apologizing to anyone at anytime. Must be difficult being so
blasted perfect all the time. Saint Fin.

“I don’t think Crawford…” Annie began.

But Lissy cut her off, “Lord Carraway does
not pay Crawford’s wages.” Juliet did, but that was beside the
point. “And I don’t particularly care what that starched viscount
has to say this morning. So, please tell Crawford to return
whatever pearls of wisdom Lord Carraway has thought to bestow upon
me to the viscount. Unopened.”

Besides, even if it was an apology, Fin
should do so in person.

“Yes, of course, my lady.”

Just as Fin stepped from his home on Charles
Street, he spotted a footman in Prestwick livery hastening toward
him. Monroe, if Fin wasn’t mistaken.

“Good morning,” Fin said with a nod.

Monroe’s eyes dropped to the ground. “Sorry,
my lord. I just meant to return this.” He stretched his arm toward
Fin, a letter clutched in his hand. The letter Fin had penned early
that morning, by the looks of it.

Fin frowned. “My man delivered that this
morning for Lady Felicity.”

“Aye, sir.” Monroe nodded, his eyes still on
his boots. “She said to return it to you.”

“Return it to me?” Fin grumbled, snatching
the letter back from the servant. The damn thing hadn’t even been
opened. “She knew
I
sent it?” What a foolish thing to ask.
Cleary, she knew he’d written it as she’d sent Monroe to return the
blasted note.

The footman finally raised his gaze to meet
Fin’s eyes. “Aye, sir,” he said, sounding most apologetic.

Fin crumpled the letter up in his hand and
slid the envelope into his coat pocket. This sort of behavior was
exactly why Lissy needed a keeper. Stubborn, petulant chit. Very
well, Fin would just have to deliver his message in person and make
certain she heard every last word. He nodded at the footman. “In
that case, do tell her ladyship to expect me at Prestwick House
this afternoon.” Right after he met with Liverpool, he’d deal with
Lissy.