Brushed by Scandal

‘I have the feeling, Sir Barrington, that one is never entirely safe around you. You see a great deal without ever giving the appearance of actually looking. That makes you dangerous.’

‘Only to those with something to hide. The innocent have no reason to fear me.’ His eyes found hers and held them captive. ‘I trust
you
do not find me dangerous, Lady Annabelle?’

Author Note

It’s always a treat when an idea for a new story comes out of a book I haven’t even finished writing. And that’s exactly what happened with BRUSHED BY SCANDAL.

Lady Annabelle Durst and Sir Barrington Parker both made their debuts in COURTING MISS VALLOIS, and although they never met I knew they would be drawn to one another. After all, they were both intelligent, attractive people, who liked nothing better than to help others get out of or avoid potentially embarrassing or damaging situations.

But what if that potentially damaging situation happened to one of
them?
How would they feel about being investigated by the other person? Worse, could they ever bring themselves to
love
that other person if the crime they threatened to expose had the power to destroy everything they held most dear?

I hope you enjoy Barrington and Anna’s love story. I had great fun writing it.

GAIL WHITIKER
was born on the west coast of Wales and moved to Canada at an early age. Though she grew up reading everything from John Wyndham to Victoria Holt, frequent trips back to Wales inspired a fascination with castles and history, so it wasn’t surprising that her first published book would be set in Regency England. Now an award-winning author of both historical and contemporary novels, Gail lives on Vancouver Island, where she continues to indulge her fascination with the past, as well as enjoying travel, music, and spectacular scenery. Visit Gail at
www.gailwhitiker.com

Previous novels by this author:

A MOST IMPROPER PROPOSAL
*

THE GUARDIAN’S DILEMMA
*

A SCANDALOUS COURTSHIP

A MOST UNSUITABLE BRIDE

A PROMISE TO RETURN

COURTING MISS VALLOIS

*
part of
The Steepwood Scandal
mini-series

Brushed
by Scandal

Gail Whitiker

To Mum and Dad, who continue to be an ongoing source of love and support in so many areas of my life. Thank you for always being there.

And to my good friend Lynne Rattray, who inspires me with her
joie de vivre
and her unflagging sense of humour.

I
t was a perfect night for sin. The mid-May evening was deliciously warm, the air sweet with the fragrance of rosewater and violets, and the attention of one hundred and forty-nine of the guests moving slowly through the overheated rooms of Lord and Lady Montby’s palatial London house was focused on anything
but
the young lady slipping furtively through the French doors and onto the dimly lit balcony beyond.

Fortunately, as the attention of the one hundred and fiftieth guest had been fixed on that silly young woman for some time, the chances of
her
making a clean escape were never very good. Over the course of the evening, Lady Annabelle Durst had watched the exchange of smiles and glances passing between Miss Mercy Banks and a certain red-coated officer, and, given that the gentleman had recently left the room by the same doors through which Miss Banks now passed, Anna had no doubt that a clandestine rendezvous was planned. A rendezvous that could only end in disaster for one or both of them.

‘Mrs Wicks, would you please excuse me,’ Anna said quietly. ‘I’ve just seen someone I really must speak with.’

‘Why, of course, Lady Annabelle, and I do apologise for having taken up so much of your time, but I really didn’t know who else to turn to. Cynthia simply refuses to listen and I was at my wits’ end, wondering what to do next.’

‘I understand perfectly,’ Anna said, endeavouring to keep one eye on the French doors. ‘Cynthia has always been the most stubborn of your daughters and if you force her to spend a month in Scotland with her grandmother while her sisters are allowed to go to Bath, she
will
rebel. However, I believe the compromise I’ve suggested should help to alleviate the tension and make everyone feel better.’

‘I don’t mind saying it’s made
me
feel a great deal better,’ Mrs Wicks murmured. ‘You’re an uncommonly wise young woman for your age, Lady Annabelle. Your father must be very proud.’

Aware that her father would have been a great deal more proud had he been sending word of her upcoming engagement to
The Times,
Anna simply inclined her head and moved on. There was no point in telling Mrs Wicks that her unwed state was an ongoing source of consternation to her father or that he had offered to settle not only a handsome dowry, but one of his smaller, unentailed estates on her the moment she announced her engagement. Why bother when there was absolutely no one in her life for whom she felt even the slightest attraction?

As for being deemed a very wise young woman, Anna supposed it could have been worse. She might have been called studious or obliging—agreeable, even—none of which truly described her character. Yes, it was true, she had been dispensing an inordinate amount of advice to wilful young ladies and their frustrated mothers of late, but what was she to do when they kept coming to her for answers? Their problems were relatively easy to understand and comparatively simple to fix, even if the parties involved thought otherwise.

As to the hapless Miss Banks, that was clearly a situation Anna was going to have to deal with personally if she hoped to ward off imminent disaster.

The balcony, illuminated by multiple strands of brightly coloured lanterns strung from one end to the other, ran almost the entire length of the house, but one glance in either direction was enough to show Anna that her quarry had already vanished into the gardens. Foolish girl. Did she really believe that the gardens were empty? That no one else had sought privacy in the shadowy follies and Grecian temples sprinkled throughout the trees?

Obviously not or she wouldn’t have allowed herself to be led astray—and Anna had no doubt the girl
had
been led. Mercy Banks was as green as a leprechaun’s jacket. Barely seventeen, she was in London for her first Season, so it was only to be expected that, upon meeting a young man who looked at her as though she were Aphrodite reincarnated, she would mistake attraction for something deeper.

Anna had been seventeen once, too. She remembered all too well the excitement of looking up to find a handsome gentleman watching her; the exhilaration of his hand casually brushing hers when they drew close enough to converse, followed by the warmth of his breath as he leaned in close to whisper a compliment.

Oh, yes, she knew well the lure of those forbidden bowers. But
because
she had been prevented from making a mistake by someone who had noticed her infatuation and taken the time to intervene, Anna now recognised the importance in doing the same for others. Unfortunately, as she walked down the stone steps and into the garden proper, she realised she was not the only one intent on locating the wayward Miss Banks. Marching with grim resolve along the gravel path ahead of her was the young lady’s mother, determined to find
her errant daughter before some dreadful misfortune could befall her.

Obviously, more desperate measures were now called for.

‘Mrs Banks,’ Anna called in a pleasant but carrying voice. ‘What a pleasure to see you again.’

Mrs Banks, a small, rotund lady wearing a dark green gown and a headband adorned with flowers and fruits of an exotic hue, paused to glance over her shoulder; upon seeing Anna, she stopped, her expression of concern changing to one of pleasure. ‘Why, Lady Annabelle, how nice to see you again. It must be nearly a month since we last had an opportunity to chat. Lady Falconer’s musicale, wasn’t it?’

Anna inclined her head. ‘I do believe it was.’

‘I thought so. Dreadful soprano. I vow my ears rang most painfully for the rest of the night,’ Mrs Banks said with a frown. ‘But what are you doing out here all on your own?’

‘The house was so warm, I thought to enjoy a quiet stroll through the gardens,’ Anna said, keeping her voice light and her words casual. ‘But where is Mr Banks this evening? I take it he did come with you.’

‘Oh, yes, albeit reluctantly. He’s not much into these society affairs, but I told him we must make an effort if we hope to settle Mercy in an advantageous marriage.’ Mrs Banks sighed. ‘For his sake, I hope she finds a husband sooner rather than later. He’s that anxious to get back home.’

‘I’m sure it will be sooner,’ Anna said, heart jumping as she caught sight of a red coat just beyond Mrs Banks’s right shoulder. ‘But I wonder, Mrs Banks, if you’ve seen the new fountain Lady Montby recently had installed over by the reflecting pool? It really is quite spectacular.’

‘I’m sure it is, but at the moment, I am more concerned with finding Mercy.’

‘Really?’ Anna affected a look of confusion. ‘I am quite sure I saw her inside the house.’

‘You did? Where?’

‘Heading in the direction of the music room.’

Mrs Banks rolled her eyes, but Anna noticed a definite softening in the lines of tension around her mouth. ‘I might have known. Someone told Mercy that Lady Montby had recently acquired a new pianoforte and naturally she was anxious to see it. The child is quite musically gifted,’ her mother confided proudly. ‘And while I take care not to compliment her too much, I am hopeful it will help in the quest to find her the right kind of husband.’

‘I’m sure she will do you both proud,’ Anna said, slipping her arm through the older woman’s and turning her around. ‘But as long as we’re heading back inside, why don’t we take a peek at the fountain? It will only take a moment, and then you can carry on and look for your daughter.’

Obviously deciding it was a good idea, Mrs Banks made no demur as Anna led her in the direction of the fountain, which was indeed a spectacular affair, and which, more importantly, was located at the opposite end of the garden from where Anna suspected Mercy and her officer were hiding. Once there, she introduced Mrs Banks to Mrs Wicks, who immediately launched into a diatribe about the difficulties of presenting ungrateful daughters to society, whereupon Mrs Banks said how thankful she was that she only had one daughter to marry off, rather than three.

Anna left the two women happily commiserating with one another and quickly retraced her steps. She was almost at the far end of the path when Miss Banks stepped out, her cheeks flushed, her blue eyes wide with apprehension. ‘Lady Annabelle!’

‘Miss Banks. Enjoying a few minutes
alone
in the garden?’ she asked pointedly.

‘Yes! That is…no. That is…oh dear.’ The girl looked up and the expression on Anna’s face turned her cheeks an even brighter shade of red. ‘Please tell me Mama didn’t know where I was.’

‘She did not, but only because I suggested you were still inside the house,’ Anna said. ‘If she had caught you and your young man out here together, the consequences would have been dire!’

The girl’s pretty face fell. ‘I know. And I promise I won’t do it again. It’s just that…’

When she broke off blushing, Anna prayed the silly girl hadn’t done anything irredeemably stupid. ‘It’s just that what?’

Mercy sighed. ‘He said it would be all right. He told me…he loved me.’

Of course he had, Anna thought drily. Was a declaration of love not the most common justification for inappropriate behaviour on a young man’s part? ‘Then I take leave to tell you that he had a very poor way of showing it. Has he secured your father’s permission to speak to you?’

Miss Banks looked even more miserable. ‘We have not even been formally introduced. We first saw one another in Hyde Park a week ago, then again at a masquerade two nights past.’

‘At which time he suggested a rendezvous for this evening,’ Anna surmised.

The girl nodded.

‘Then you must not see him again until a formal introduction has been made. Whatever his feelings, asking you to meet him alone in a secluded garden demonstrates the worst kind of judgement,’ Anna said firmly. ‘He must seek a proper introduction and when the time comes to speak of his intentions, he must approach your father and ask permission to call upon you. Please believe me when I say that what he
did tonight was
not
an indication of love, Miss Banks, no matter how much you would like to believe otherwise.’

The young girl bit her lip. ‘No, I don’t suppose it was. But I did so want to see him again…even if only for a few minutes.’

‘A few minutes are more than enough to ruin a lifetime,’ Anna said more gently. ‘You must guard your reputation as fiercely as you would your most precious possession, because right now, it
is
your most precious possession. Once lost it can never be regained and no one will suffer more for its absence than you. So, no matter what
any
gentleman says to you, or how sweetly he says it, do not let yourself be tempted into such an indiscretion again.’

‘Yes, Lady Annabelle.’

Anna could see from the expression on Mercy’s face that she had learned her lesson and that the episode would not be repeated. Nor did Anna expect that it would. It wasn’t that Mercy was bad. She was simply young and impetuous, as were so many girls her age.

As Anna herself had once been.

‘And now, we shall return to the house and you will find your mother and endeavour to set her mind at rest,’ she said, leading Mercy back along the gravel path. ‘As for your young man, you are not to look for him again, and, if he seeks you out, you are to tell him you will not speak to him until the two of you have been properly introduced…which I shall endeavour to do later this evening.’

Miss Banks gasped. ‘You would do that for me?’

‘I would, but only if you give me your promise that you will never see…’ Anna paused. ‘What is the officer’s name?’

‘Lieutenant Giles Blokker.’

‘Fine. That you will not see Lieutenant Blokker again without suitable chaperonage. I may not be around to save you the next time.’

‘You have my promise, Lady Annabelle. And thank you! Thank you so very much!’

Upon returning to the ballroom, Miss Banks did exactly as she had been told. When Lieutenant Blokker tried to approach her, she treated him to a look that would have done her crusty old grandmother proud and then went in search of her mother. The young man looked understandably crushed, but Anna hoped it had taught him a lesson. If he truly cared for Miss Banks, he would do whatever was necessary in order to further the connection in the manner of which society approved. If not, he wasn’t worth having in the first place.

‘Do you attempt to save them all from themselves?’ asked an amused masculine voice close to her ear. ‘Or only the ones who don’t know any better?’

Anna turned her head and found herself looking into the face of a stranger. A very handsome stranger, but a stranger none the less. ‘Were you speaking to me, sir?’

‘I was. And pray forgive my boldness, but I happened to be in the garden when you came upon the young lady, and such was my timing that I was privy to most of your conversation with her just now. She is indeed fortunate to have you as her champion.’

His voice was velvet over steel. Resonant, powerful, the kind of voice that held audiences spellbound and sent impressionable young women swooning. Anna could imagine him reciting Shakespeare on the stage at Drury Lane, or reading love sonnets by Bryon or Wordsworth, those low, sensual tones sparking desire in any young woman’s breast.

But was their meeting now entirely coincidental? While she thought him too old for Miss Banks and too casual in his addresses to her, the fact he had been in the garden at the same time as they had, and that he just happened to be standing next to her now, left her wondering.

‘I only attempt to save the ones I deem worthy of saving,’

she replied carefully. ‘The rest I leave to their own devices.’

‘Just as well,’ the gentleman said. ‘Most people sin for the fun of it and wouldn’t welcome your intervention, no matter how well intentioned. Unlike Miss Banks, whose romantic heart would likely have got the better of her had you not stepped in to save the day.’

Anna caught an undertone of amusement in his voice and, despite her natural inclination to be wary, found herself smiling back at him. He was certainly an attractive man. His face was long rather than square, his jaw angular, his cheekbones high and well formed. Intelligence gleamed in the depths of those clear grey eyes and his lips, curved upwards in a smile, were firm and disturbingly sensual. His clothes were expensive, his linen impeccable, and while his hair shone black in the light of a thousand candles, the tiny lines at the corners of his eyes put him closer to thirty than twenty.