Compromising the Marquess (11 page)

“So your father dealt in rare books, produced new ones and...let me guess, started a scandal sheet as well.”

“No, not the newspaper. Mr. Morris kept suggesting it but Papa was adamantly opposed. It caused endless arguments between them but Papa held firm.”

“How old were you at the time?”

“Fourteen. I spent every spare second in the shop, helping to catalogue the books, although a lot of the time I got distracted into reading them.” Leah smiled at the memory. “I learned a lot about the printing process at the same time and knew almost as much about running the business as Papa and Jenkins did.”

“How did your father die?” he asked softly.

“A fire,” Leah said on a heavy breath. “We lived above the shop but thankfully we were not at home when the fire broke out. Or ought not to have been. Papa went back for something...” Her voice caught and it took her a moment to recover. “And got trapped in the fire.”

“I’m sorry.” His lordship covered her hand with his own. Leah held his gaze for a protracted moment, aware of the tears swamping her eyes but strangely unembarrassed by them. “That must have been hard for you.”

“Yes, his books mattered so much, right to the end.” She took a deep breath, conscious of the dark weight of his gaze still focused on her profile, assessing her. “But,” she added, sighing, “nothing could be saved and he died for no reason.”

“And your mother never got over it?”

“No, she didn’t. I was sixteen and everything was left to me to arrange. With what little money we had saved I found new accommodation for us and tried to take care of Mama. But she didn’t want to be looked after. She lost interest in everything and, no matter what Beth and I tried, we couldn’t regain the mother we loved so much.”

“What did Morris do?”

“A few of the most valuable books had been locked in a strongbox. Even so, they were damaged by smoke and couldn’t be sold for their full value. He did what he could and gave me the proceeds.”

The marquess hoisted one brow. “And offered you employment?”

“No, that came later. After Mama died we were desperate. Beth’s illness didn’t help. She was weak all the time, unable to do much for herself, plus the cost of her medicine, you understand.”

He nodded. “You must have been terrified.”

“Yes, that’s a fair assessment of my state of mind. I had lost my parents and had no intention of losing my sister too.”

“I begin to understand.”

“I knew a lot of people in the vicinity—maids, footmen, ostlers and such, all employed by the important families in London. They often let snippets of information about their employers drop. Mr. Morris had become a pamphleteer
and I offered him whatever I picked up in return for remuneration.” She stopped talking and met his eye. “It didn’t seem so very bad when it was impersonal. I didn’t know the people involved and the stories couldn’t be traced back to me.” She paused and found the courage to meet his eye. “I understand now the sort of damage I must have done. I’m very sorry. Can you forgive me?”

He took her hand in his, turned it over and gently placed his lips to the inside of her wrist. It was the very last reaction she had expected, and the seductive stroke of his lips as they made contact with her skin caused her insides to melt.

“Think no more about it,” he said gruffly.

“I shall ask Mr. Morris to print a retraction as soon as he can.”

“No, that would only make matters worse.”

“Then what can I do to put things right?”

“I daresay I’ll think of something.” He released her hand and smiled, all predatory male again, causing her breath to lock in her throat and for the room to suddenly feel over-warm. “Could you not have found some other way to support yourself and your sister? With a voice like yours I should imagine that the theatrical agents would have fallen over themselves to procure your services.”

She smiled, already shaking her head. “My mother encouraged me to sing from an early age. She had a beautiful voice too. I had classical lessons all the time, no matter how short money was.”

“It shows.”

“Thank you. I believe Mama harboured hopes of my singing in society, earning a reputation and a husband into the bargain.” Leah flashed a brief smile. “But she was adamant that I not go into the theatre. She and my music master, Mr. Davidson, frequently quarrelled about it. He felt I could have forged a career in the opera but Mama considered that vulgar, and I promised I would never go down that path.”

“No more vulgar than writing for Morris’s rag,” he said. Leah merely shrugged, aware that he was right. “How did your mother hope you would find a way into society when, forgive me, you were living in Wapping?”

“Simple. She and Sir Percy became reacquainted just before my father died. Brother and sister had always been close but my grandfather forbade Sir Percy to contact Mama. However, once he died there was nothing to stop them becoming reconciled.”

“Which is how you come to be living in Sir Percy’s gatehouse.”

“Yes. Sir Percy was kind enough to come to town and help us when Mama was taken. He said that if ever we needed any help, I was to call on him. I was sorely tempted on several occasions but I’d met Aunt Augusta—just once but that was sufficient to know she wouldn’t welcome us.”

“But you came anyway?”

“Yes, Beth’s medical expenses took most of my remaining money.” She met his gaze. “I could no longer afford the rent and used her illness as an excuse to come down here. She
does
need sea air but doesn’t know the full extent of our pecuniary situation. When she worries about anything, it sets her back.”

“I begin to understand now why you rely on Morris,” he said softly. “You’re right, I’ve never had to concern myself with the state of the family’s finances. I assume he pays you well, given that you’re the daughter of his late partner?”

“Well—” Leah spread her hands, aware that he did not, although it felt disloyal to say so. As a female, she was lucky to find employment in such a field and counted her blessings. “The pay varies in accordance with the quality of information I provide him with.”

“And since living in the country you don’t have access to your sources.”

“They were no longer of any use to me.” She played absently with her lower lip, choosing her next words with care. “When Mr. Morris abandoned his pamphlet in London and moved to Brighton, thinking to launch a paper centring on the prince’s activities in that town, I lost my main source of income. Throwing ourselves upon Uncle Percy’s charity was difficult for me because I have far too much pride for my own good, you see. That’s why I grasped the opportunity to resume my previous occupation and regain some financial independence.” She lifted her eyes to his face. “In the process I abused your hospitality quite shamefully, Lord Denby, and I humbly apologize.”

He acknowledged her statement with an inclination of his head. “We all do what we must to survive in this world, Miss Elliott.”

“Even so, it cannot go on. I had hoped to see Beth comfortably settled before I gave up working for Mr. Morris. When I only have myself to support it will be a different matter. I could take a position as a governess, or a singing instructor, I suppose, but I’m reluctant to commit to anything that will separate me from my sister.”

“Your concern for her welfare does you credit.”

“It’s very easy to love someone as sweet as Beth. I deserve no credit for that.” She fixed him with a candid gaze. “There, my lord, you are now privy to all the particulars of my existence, such as it is. I have no more secrets to impart but, I believe, you do.”

“Presumably you refer to my guest on the ship?”

“Precisely. You have my word that nothing you tell me will find its way to the columns of Mr. Morris’s publication, although I would not blame you if you don’t believe me.”

“I do believe you and it’s not that which causes me to hesitate. It’s just that it’s a matter of state and not actually my secret to tell.”

Leah widened her eyes. Nothing could have surprised her more. “Do you mean to imply—”

A knock at the door cut her off midsentence. His lordship barked an order to enter and Potter appeared in the aperture.

“Pardon the interruption, my lord, but Lady Bentley and several other ladies have just now called to see Lady Felicity.”

Chapter Eleven

“Damnation!” Hal sucked in an angry breath. “They didn’t waste any time. I thought they might at least have restrained themselves until this afternoon.”

“Lady Bentley doesn’t strike me as the procrastinating sort,” Leah said guiltily.

“It would appear not.”

Potter stood statuelike in the doorway, awaiting further instructions. He clearly knew all about the unfortunate piece in the newspaper—Hal would have been surprised had it been otherwise—which was why he’d been informed of the ladies’ arrival.

“Are they in the small salon?” he asked.

“Yes, my lord.”

“All right, thank you, Potter.”

The butler withdrew, closing the door gently behind him.

“What shall you do about her?” Leah asked.

“Avoid her for the time being, until I can think of a way to scotch the rumour.”

“Won’t that make things worse?”

Hal scowled. “Probably, but what choice do I have? Besides, I avoid the ladies who visit Flick like the plague as a general rule, and if I were to join her now it would be seen as confirmation of the gossip.”

“Yes, I suppose so.” Leah tilted her head, sucking absently on her index finger, deep in thought. In spite of his problems, Hal found the sight oddly compelling. She was totally preoccupied, almost unaware of his presence, and he couldn’t seem to pull his gaze away from her.

“It seems to me,” she said speculatively, “that the best way to dispel the tittle-tattle would be to show public affection for another lady.”

“And finish up embroiled with a different female.” Hal shuddered. “Thank you for the suggestion but I have no intention of extracting myself from the fireplace, only to land in the centre of a very different sort of blaze.”

“You escorted me into dinner the other evening, did you not?”

“Yes.” Hal, guessing the direction her thoughts had taken, shot her a look of exaggerated circumspection. “I deliberately gave the impression that I favoured you in order to avoid Miss Bentley.”

“Exactly, and so if you now appear in the small salon with me on your arm—”

“Out of the question!”

“Am I that repulsive to you?” she asked quietly.

“I was thinking more of your reputation.”

“I owe you a favour. It was me who landed you in this mess, remember? Don’t worry, Lord Denby,” she said with a vibrant smile. “I shall expect nothing from you. I most certainly won’t consider myself betrothed, I’m sure my uncle won’t pursue you with his blunderbuss, and I have no other male protectors for you to be concerned about.” Her smile widened, her features glowing with mischief. “What do you say?”

“I say that you’re cork-brained.” Hal studied her, wondering if she might actually have hit upon the solution to his difficulty, but shook his head to dispel that possibility. He couldn’t ask it of her, even if she was entirely to blame for this farrago. “Thank you for offering to make such a sacrifice but there must be another way.”

“All the time you stand here thinking about it, Lady Bentley will be furthering her cause downstairs.” Leah stood up, her attitude exuding fiery courage and stark determination. “The plan will work if we want it to,” she said, her eyes glistening almost as though she looked forward to her own disgrace.

“Possibly, but—”

“Do you have any better ideas?” she asked, actual laughter in her eyes.

“Well...er no, not at this precise moment.”

“Then we’re wasting time.”

He let out an elongated sigh. “Very well, but you will have to pretend to be besotted. Do you think you can manage that?”

She wrinkled her brow. “I’ve never been a particularly good actress, which is another reason I didn’t pursue a career in the opera. But still, since the situation is so grave, I shall do my very best to convey that impression.”

Hal roared with laughter. “Minx!” He proffered his arm. “Come along then. Let’s get this charade over with.”

They reached the door and he was about to open it but, chancing a glance at Leah, he changed his mind.

“What is it now?” she asked.

He canted his head, examining her face with a critical eye. “Something isn’t quite right. You don’t look like a young lady whose affections are engaged.”

“I don’t quite know what you expect me to do about that.”

“Can’t you at least try to look at me with adoration?”

“Hardly. I already told you...oh!”

Without giving her any notice of his intentions, he swept her into his arms, dropped his head and covered those lush lips of hers with his own.

Firmly.

It was something he’d wanted to do since first meeting her, and she’d unwittingly presented him with the ideal excuse to exorcise that particular demon. It wasn’t a delicate kiss, like the one they’d shared on the terrace. This time he meant business. He savoured the heat of her mouth, stoking his own passions as his tongue tantalizingly stroked its corners, daring her to offer him ingress.

When, with a soft sigh, she parted her lips, he felt ridiculously triumphant and didn’t hesitate to take advantage of her unspoken invitation. His tongue foraged, feeding from her sweetness as he explored the contours of her mouth with bold, sensual sweeps. Her tongue tangled with his in an erotic dance that was in danger of slipping beyond his control. The soft curves of her body, supple and inviting, pressing against his chest only made matters worse, causing him to utter a strangled oath and break the kiss.

They were both breathing hard as they separated. Leah’s eyes were clouded, not just with confusion but with passion she was too inexperienced to conceal, her lips delightfully swollen.

“That’s better.” He lifted his hand to twist an errant curl behind her ear. “No one will be left in any doubt about our feelings for one another now.”

She frowned. “How can you say that?”

He chuckled. “You look as though you’ve been thoroughly kissed.”

“Humph!” She looked rather flustered, and for once had nothing more to say. That, in Hal’s experience of the hoyden, was definitely unique.

Grinning, his good humour fully restored, he finally opened the door and ushered her through it ahead of him. It was either that or kiss her witless. The extent of his desire to let the world go hang whilst he took the latter course of action surprised him. He was immune to feminine wiles—God alone knew, he’d had enough experience of avoiding them—but this one had attracted his attention on all levels, simply because she wasn’t attempting to impress him.

“Ready?” he asked, once again extending his arm.

“I was ready some time ago.”

So much for rendering her speechless. “No you weren’t.” He grinned at her, suspecting that the gesture projected a not-entirely-civilized aura. Only reasonable since right now his thoughts, his desires, were anything but civilized. “But you are now.”

“Don’t forget you owe me an explanation about your Frenchman.”

“That won’t be possible this morning. It’s complicated and we can’t spend the rest of the day together, even if we are playing a part.”

“I suppose that’s true, but don’t think to deter me by procrastinating, or by flamboyant demonstrations of affection, either.” She tilted her chin, obviously trying to look severe but not quite managing it. “I am completely immune to such tactics.”

That was precisely what Hal had hoped to achieve but he wasn’t altogether surprised that she’d rumbled him. Miss Leah Elliott, he was fast discovering, had an intelligent head on her slender, rather shapely shoulders.

“You didn’t appreciate my demonstration of affection?” he said, affecting surprise.

“Stop avoiding the subject.” She shook a finger beneath his nose. “I will have my explanation and that’s an end to the matter.”

“Why? You’ve already given me your word that you won’t write about it, and you don’t really believe I’m a traitor.”

“Curiosity,” she said succinctly. “I’ve always had an enquiring mind. My father encouraged me to ask questions all the time.”

“You’re a bluestocking?”

“Hardly. Just a rare female who likes to remain informed. If you don’t tell me about your Frenchman it will eat away at me, and I’ll have no peace until I find answers for myself.”

“Now that I can believe.” Hal rolled his eyes and sighed. “All right, have Leon meet me at the Boar
at dusk.”

“Very well.”

Apparently satisfied with that arrangement, Leah descended the long sweeping staircase on his arm. Heads close together, they would appear to the casual observer to be engaged in deep, intimate conversation. In actual fact Hal was struggling to stop Leah from laughing aloud. Immersing herself in the role she was playing, she obviously found the entire situation amusing. He tried frowning but her levity was infectious and he too began to laugh.

The small salon was situated directly at the foot of the stairs, and the doors were open. Polite feminine chatter reached Hal’s ears but, as their descent was observed, the voices abruptly faded away.

“They must have seen us,” Leah said, stating the obvious.

“That
is
rather the point.”

Hal swept her into the room with an elegant flourish and bowed to the ladies. He ignored Flick, whose mouth had dropped open in astonishment.

“Good morning, ladies,” he said. “How kind of you to call on my sister. I trust I find you all in good health?”

Lady Bentley recovered first. “Lord Denby, I thought...that is to say, I was given to understand—”

“I believe you know Miss Elliott,” he said, proceeding to introduce Leah to Lady Bentley’s two companions, who’d not been at the dinner party. “Leah, my dear, I think you will be perfectly comfortable if you sit here beside your sister. I shall stand directly behind you, just in case I can be of any service to you.”

“You’re doing it too brown,” Leah whispered in his ear as she took her seat.

Beth’s eyes almost popped out of her head but she had the good sense to hold her tongue. Flick and Hal between them kept the conversation flowing, with occasional contributions from Beth.

Lady Bentley looked as though she’d sucked on a lemon as she sent frequent disapproving glances in Leah’s direction. She was clearly bursting with curiosity. It was also obvious that she still didn’t look upon Leah as serious competition for her darling daughter, meaning this whole charade had been for naught.

Now that Hal thought about it, what other conclusion could she possibly have drawn? Lady Bentley probably planned to berate Hal for displaying his mistress so flagrantly, since what other position could Leah possibly occupy in the life of a respected aristocrat?

Ten long minutes later the deputation took their leave.

“What on earth was that all about, Hal?” Flick asked as soon as the door closed behind the departing matrons.

“Ask Miss Elliott,” Hal said, making his own rapid exit.

* * *

Leah assuaged Flick’s and Beth’s curiosity with vague half-truths. “Lord Denby mentioned something about Lady Bentley misunderstanding his intentions,” she said.

“Ah,” Flick said, a mischievous smile tugging at her lips. “I see.”

Beth shot her a narrow-eyed glance, clearly not deceived. Flick looked equally unbelieving but was too well-mannered to press her. They must have heard about the article in Mr. Morris’s newspaper—Lady Bentley would have wasted no time in dropping that juicy
on dit
into the conversation. Leah felt a fresh bout of shame wash through her. She had given Beth her word that she wouldn’t report anything she heard at the dinner party, and her sister would think she had reneged on her promise.

The girls escaped soon after luncheon, conveyed back to the gatehouse in style in one of the Forster carriages.

“I know what you’re thinking, Beth,” Leah said as soon as they were alone. “And I don’t altogether blame you, but what’s done is done and at least I managed to put things right, after a fashion, for his lordship.”

“Perhaps, but at what cost to yourself?”

“Bah, that’s of no consequence.” Leah waved Beth’s objections aside. “I’ve learned my lesson and won’t repeat my mistake.”

“I’m glad to hear you say so.”

They hadn’t been home for more than half an hour before their aunt descended upon them.

“Well, miss,” she said, sailing into the sitting room and glaring at Leah with unmitigated dislike. “What have you to say for yourself?”

The girls stood and curtsied. Aunt Augusta didn’t acknowledge the gesture.

“Good afternoon,” Leah said calmly.

“Flaunting yourself with Lord Denby, indeed!” Aunt Augusta threw herself into a chair and rested her head dramatically in her hands. “I shall never be able to show my face in this town again.”

Leah arched a brow. “I fail to see why.”

“I heard it all from Lady Bentley. She kindly made a point of calling to see me, just to make sure I knew how you conduct yourself when left to your own devices.” Leah wanted to interrupt but knew any such attempt would be futile. Her aunt needed to vent her spleen so it would be as well to let her get it over with. “Cat got your tongue, has it, young lady?”

Oh, so she was allowed to speak. “There’s nothing mysterious or unseemly about my behaviour.” Fortunately her aunt couldn’t possibly know about that wretched kiss. “Lord Denby merely conducted me into the salon where Flick was entertaining, nothing more.”

“Nothing more, you say!” Aunt Augusta’s eyes bulged, her face red with rage. She leaned close to Leah to emphasise a point, the aroma of brandy strong on her breath. “Lord Denby is about to become engaged to Miss Bentley. He is nothing to you.”

“If he is betrothed to Miss Bentley, I don’t understand why you’re in such high ropes.”

“You’ve made a laughingstock of us all. I shan’t be able to visit the Hall again.”

Since, as far as Leah was aware, she had only been invited there once since her friend had moved away, she failed to see why her aunt was in such a dudgeon. “I didn’t think you approved of the marquess, aunt, so why should being deprived of his society concern you so much?”

“Stupid girl, you understand nothing! If one only associated with people one approved of, one would have very few engagements.”

“Look, I don’t mean to—”