A Scandalous Deception (6 page)

“If she’s always in, she might not be able to
help,” Bella said, her voice laced with panic. “Don’t we need
someone well connected? Someone—“

Lissy slid her arm around the other girl’s
shoulders to ease her fears. “Trust me, Bella. Cordie is better
connected than either of us, and she’ll know exactly what to
do.”

A moment later, Higgins returned to the foyer
and gestured to a room right down the corridor. “Her ladyship is
expecting you in the green parlor, Lady Felicity.”

“Thank you, Higgins. You are a dear. “ Lissy
breezed past the butler, towing Bella along side her. As soon as
they stepped over the threshold, Cordelia, the Countess of
Clayworth rose from her spot on a brocade settee, tossed her dark
tresses over one shoulder, and rushed to greet them.

“Lissy!” Cordie kissed her cheek. “What a
surprise. What are you doing here?”

At once guilt washed over Lissy. She should
have visited more often. Cordie was a dear friend, one of her
dearest in the world. But ever since she’d lost her baby… Lissy
pushed the thought from her mind before it had time to settle. “I’m
so glad to find you in, Cordie.” She gestured to Bella with a tilt
of her head. “She needs your help.”

“My help?” Cordie’s green eyes flashed with
surprise as she glanced from Lissy to Bella. “Lady Arabella, isn’t
it?”

Heat rushed to Lissy’s face. “I am sorry.”
Where were her manners? Probably lying somewhere along Rotten Row,
thanks to Phineas Granard. Blast him for flustering her. Starched
stickler. “Bella Winslett, Cordie Clayworth.”

“We met at Lady Eccleston’s al fresco last
season.”

“Of course we did.” Cordie smiled at Bella.
“You wore a lilac spencer, and I remember thinking how adorable you
looked in it.”

“That is kind of you,” Bella demurred.

Cordie gestured back to the settee she’d just
abandoned. “Do have a seat, and tell me what sort of help you’re in
need of.”

Bella followed Cordie to the settee, and
Lissy dropped into a chintz chair across from them. “Tell her
everything, Bella.”

Bella gulped, nodded tentatively, then
pressed on. “If I don’t find a husband—”

“Fiancé,” Lissy interrupted. “There’s no
reason to marry the man.”

“Which man are we talking about?” Cordie
asked, looking more confused by the second.

“Any man will do,” Bella hastened to explain.
“As long as he isn’t my cousin.”

“Her
horrid
cousin,” Lissy threw in.
She wasn’t certain what made Hellsburg horrid, but if Bella thought
he was, she must have good reason.

Bella nodded in agreement. “You see, my
grandfather is quite adamant that I marry my Prussian cousin when
he arrives in England.” She snorted. “Says he has strong barbarian
blood.”

“There’s something to recommend him,” Lissy
added, disliking Hellsburg more by the second.

Bella shrugged. “Grandpapa seems to think
it’s a noble trait. Johann certainly has the manners of a
barbarian.” A beleaguered sigh escaped her. “He has the coldest
blue eyes. Looking at him makes me shiver. And he’s impossibly
mean. He barks and grumbles about nearly everything and...” Bella
swiped at a tear. “Lady Clayworth, I’d rather convert to
Catholicism and live the rest of my life out as a nun than marry my
cousin.”

“Well, I should hope it wouldn’t come to
that.” Cordie smiled sympathetically and squeezed the girl’s
hand.

And Lissy took that break as the opening she
needed to present her plan. “If Bella is betrothed before her
cousin arrives, she won’t have to marry her cousin.”

Bella nodded quickly in agreement.

“All she needs is a borrowed fiancé, at least
until her cousin returns to the continent.”

“Borrowed?” Cordie’s brow rose in
surprise.

“Well, she may not want to keep him. I mean,
what are the odds she’ll find the love of her life in the next
fortnight?” Lissy shook her head. “That would be as likely as
finding a needle in a haystack. We’d be better off finding a
gentleman who wouldn’t mind being part of the ruse.”

Cordie frowned a bit as though she was
sorting something out in her mind. That could only be a good
sign.

“So you see,” Lissy continued, “I thought
Lord Haversham might be convinced to be of service.”

Cordie’s frown transformed to a look of sheer
horror in less than a second. “I hardly think he’d be a good
candidate.”

“But you and Clayworth are such good friends
with him.” And it wasn’t as though the man was really in search of
a wife. He wouldn’t care one whit when Bella eventually cried
off.

Cordie heaved a sigh and cast a rueful glance
in Bella’s direction. “I adore Lord Haversham. We both do. I owe
him a debt I can never repay, but I’m certain Lady Araballa would
like to leave this pretend betrothal with her reputation in
tact.”

To which Bella’s eyes rounded in fear. “Most
definitely.”

“I’m certain Haversham could be convinced to
help you, but he never helps without a cost, and I doubt you would
want to pay his price.”

Heavens! Even Lissy’s face burned at the
comment. Had Lord Haversham demanded some sort of payment from
Cordie when he’d helped her a few years ago?

“No, I don’t think I would,” Bella finally
breathed out.

Fine. Haversham was off the plate. “I thought
about Edmund, but Fin refused to even listen to me.”

“You talked to Lord Carraway about this?”
Cordie laughed. “What were you thinking?”

“That he might, for once, not be so blasted
stuffy,” Lissy grumbled. “But, of course, he was. He doesn’t know
any other way to be.”

Cordie quirked her a mischievous grin.
“You’re always so hard on him.”

Someone needed to be. Saint Fin could do no
wrong in anyone else’s eyes. It was nothing short of maddening.
“Not that it does either of us any good.” Lissy shook her head as
though to shake her annoyance with Fin from her thoughts. “But
enough about him. We need to find a good candidate for Bella.” She
sighed. “If only Tristan wasn’t already married.”

A laugh escaped Cordie. “Yes, I don’t think
Phoebe would appreciate him taking a fiancée.” Then her eyes lit
with joy. “But I think I know the perfect man for the job.”

“Who?” Bella asked, leaning closer to Cordie
on the settee.

“A handsome fellow. Titled.” The countess
shrugged slightly. “He keeps mostly to his country estate, but he
owes my husband a rather large debt.”

“Who?” Lissy echoed Bella’s question, as she
couldn’t imagine who in the world Cordie had in mind. If someone
owed Clayworth a debt, why hadn’t Lissy heard about it?

Cordie avoided Lissy’s gaze, keeping her eyes
on Bella. “Do you have aspirations for a love match?”

A blush stained Bella’s cheeks. “Aren’t such
things fairy tales?”

Cordie’s wasn’t a fairy tale. The earl and
countess’ love match was something to envy, and Lissy’s heart
twisted a bit. How different her outlook on life would be if she’d
met a man as loving, caring and devoted as Lord Clayworth. How
different her life would be if Aaron had been who she thought he
was.

“They don’t have to be,” Cordie said
softly.

Bella shook her head. “I don’t want to marry
Johann. He’s angry and unkind. Beyond that, if I end up married to
a courteous man, that’s all I require.”

“I’ll speak to the gentleman I have in mind
then, and I’ll report back.”

“And he is?” Lissy pressed.

“I’d rather not say until I’ve had time to
speak with him, but his name and reputation are in tact. Bella’s
family won’t find issue with him, you can trust me on that.”

Haversham would have to make an appearance at
some point. From what Fin understood, the marquess frequented
White’s as often as he frequented bawdy houses. Since Fin wasn’t
about to seek the man out in one of those locales, White’s it would
have to be.

The question plaguing Fin as he sat in one of
the overstuffed chairs in the club, was what could he do or say to
make the malevolent marquess swear off Lissy? After all, Haversham
didn’t have a care for his own reputation; he certainly wouldn’t
care about Lissy’s. So what could Fin do in regards to the man?
Threaten to call him out? Threaten to—

“I know that look,” came a familiar voice,
just a few feet away.

Fin turned his head to the right and smiled
at his cousin, Sebastian Alder, the Earl of Peasemore. “What look
is that?”

“The expression of complete frustration. Let
me guess.” A wicked glint flicked in Sebastian’s eyes as he dropped
into an overstuffed chair across from Fin. “Felicity Pierce is
vexing you again?”

Fin couldn’t help the chuckle that escaped
him. “Hardly a lucky guess. When does the chit not vex me?”

Sebastian leaned forward in his seat, toward
Fin. “Why don’t you just bed the girl, and get it over with?”

Bed Lissy?
Fin’s mouth fell open. He
could not have heard his cousin correctly. “I beg your pardon?”

“You heard me,” Sebastian said, settling back
in his chair. “When is the last time you bedded a chit?”

Fury coursed through Fin’s veins. “In the
first place, she’s not some chit—”

“You’re the one who just called her
that.”

That was beside the point. He was annoyed
with Lissy; he hadn’t intended to disparage her. “She’s my nephew’s
sister.”

“She’s
Georgina Teynham
’s sister,”
Sebastian added. “So I’m betting that’s the real reason you haven’t
tossed up the girl’s skirts yet. But Georgie wouldn’t expect you to
be a celibate the rest of your days, you know?”

Fin could hardly believe he was having this
conversation. Of all the utterly ridiculous things for Sebastian to
say. He’d never once thought about climbing into Lissy’s bed or
dragging her into his. He cared about her, was all. He didn’t want
to see her ruin her life or get hurt. That didn’t mean he wanted to
bed her. Just because Sebastian would have an ulterior motive in
looking out for Lissy’s best interests didn’t mean Fin did. “She’s
a child.”

Sebastian tipped back his laughed. Loudly.
Then he wiped a tear from his eye, which was quite irritating of
him, really. “Are you trying to convince me with that drivel or
yourself?”

Drivel? Had Sebastian gone mad? Fin simply
gaped at his cousin, at a complete loss for words.

“The
woman
has been widowed for three
years, Fin. And one look at her
décolletage
makes it more
than apparent that she’s the furthest thing from a child.”

Had Sebastian been ogling Lissy’s bodice? Fin
thought he might strangle his cousin before he took his next
breath. “Stay away from her,” he growled.

Sebastian laughed again. “Do you think I want
the madness that swirls around her to encompass my life?” He shook
his head. “But you, on the other hand, seem to thrive on it. So bed
her and get it over with. It’s the best advice you’ll receive
today.”

“I will not
bed
her,” Fin barked. “And
I cannot believe you would suggest such a thing.”

“You can’t believe it? Shall I say it again?”
Sebastian teased.

“Say it again and we’ll be making a dawn
appointment.”

Sebastian’s grin grew wider. “I just want you
to find some happiness, cousin. Frustration doesn’t look good on
you.”

“I am happy,” Fin bit out.

“Oh, you sound it.” Sebastian nodded toward a
footman at the far end of the room. “Whisky.” Then he turned his
attention back to Fin. “At least think about it. You seem to have a
taste for St. Claire women, and she does look like a tasty little
morsel.”

Before Fin could find the words to reply to
his cousin, the Marquess of Haversham stepped into the club. It was
about time the blasted man made an appearance. Haversham mumbled
something to a footman and then started in the direction of the
card room.

“Excuse me.” Fin rose from his spot and
started across the room to intercept the marquess before he escaped
into the din.

“Fin!” Sebastian called after him, but he
paid his cousin no notice. After the man’s suggestion, he didn’t
deserve notice. Bed Lissy! Of all the awful thoughts to put into
Fin’s head. For God’s sake, he couldn’t even imagine kissing Lissy,
let alone bedding her. She was like an errant little sister… Except
she wasn’t his sister.

A second later, he stood in the marquess’
path. “Haversham,” he greeted the blackguard with a nod. “I’d like
a word with you.”

“With me?” Haversham chuckled. “I’m the last
fellow you want supporting whatever act you want pushed through the
Lords, Carraway. I haven’t taken my seat for at least half a
decade.”

The last thing on Fin’s mind was the treasury
appropriations act. “Look here, Haversham, if Luke Beckford was
here, he’d be having this conversation with you—”

The marquess’ brow shot upwards, a bemused
expression settled on his face. “Beckford is an old friend. I
highly doubt he’d ever say to me whatever it is that’s got you
twisted up in a knot.”