Good Earl Gone Bad (7 page)

“I don't mean you should call yourself his son. Just that you should visit Lord Saintcrow at his home. In a disguise of some sort. So that your reputation doesn't become any more tainted. After all, it would be a scandal of the first order if you were to go to Lord Saintcrow's home dressed as yourself. But if you were in disguise, then no one would know it was you.”

Hermione blinked. “But why would I visit Lord Saintcrow in the first place? His agreement with my father has already been made. And I hardly think he will change his mind based on my paying a highly improper call upon him.”

“Those are not the words of the same lady who convinced London's most notorious driving club to let her become a member,” Leonora said, setting her fists on her hips. “What happened to that lady?”

“She was humiliated before all of London in the middle of Hyde Park,” Hermione said wryly. “Surely you don't think that compounding that scandal with another will save me.”

“I think it could get you your horses back,” Leonora said firmly. “And the sooner you have them back, the sooner you can take your rightful place as a member of the Lords of Anarchy.”

“What are the two of you discussing in such heated tones?” Ophelia asked, stepping forward into their little enclosure. “Your father hasn't done something else, has he?”

It was just like Ophelia to worry over her, Hermione thought with a warm heart. She really did have wonderful friends. Even if at the moment, Leonora seemed to have lost her wits.

But when Leonora explained her proposal to Ophelia, the other girl clapped her hands. “It's perfect,” she said with a grin. “It's been ages since we had an adventure. And if the three of us beard the lion in his den, then Lord Saintcrow will have no choice but to give your horses back.”

“The three of us?” Hermione echoed. “Are you mad? The three of us cannot descend upon Lord Saintcrow's town house en masse!” She was not accustomed to playing the role of the voice of reason in their little group, but it was clear someone needed to.

“Oh, don't be such a spoilsport, Hermione,” said Leonora, who now that she had someone to agree to her mad plan was only more enthusiastic about it. “It will be fun.”

“If you say so,” Hermione said with a sense of impending doom. “Though I draw the line at dressing like a man.”

If she'd learned one thing about her friends, it was that once they had the bit between their teeth, there was no way of getting them to change their minds. And if she were truly honest with herself, it had been a long time since the three of them had got up to any sort of adventure.

“Very well then, we'll all three wear heavy veils,” Leonora said. “And we'll simply convince Lord Saintcrow that your father was mistaken about the true ownership of the horses. I'm sure once it's explained to him, he'll see reason.”

“You saw him this morning,” Hermione said with a shake of her head. “I explained it to him very succinctly.”

“Yes, dearest,” Ophelia said softly. “But you said it to him in front of other men.”

Would Lord Saintcrow be more reasonable when confronted alone? When there was an opportunity for him to do the right thing and save his precious
amour propre
? Thinking back on the man's behavior that morning, she thought it was possible.

Very well.

“Let's do it,” she said, placing her hand in the center of their little circle, so that the other two ladies could place their own hands on top of hers.

“If nothing else, we'll get an adventure out of it,” Leonora said with a grin.

Hermione certainly hoped so. And if truth be told, it could hardly be any worse than that morning's debacle had been.

 

Five

When Jasper searched out Hermione for their waltz, he found her in deep conversation with Lord Payne, the current president of the Lords of Anarchy.

“I feel sure we can work something out, Lady Hermione,” Payne was saying with what to Jasper's eye looked to be an overabundance of solicitude. Payne was married, so there was no question that his intentions, whatever they might be, were honorable. And despite the fact that the fellow had so far as he knew done nothing to disrespect Hermione, Jasper did not like the man.

“Thank you so much, Lord Payne,” Hermione said with a bright smile, her eyes shining with real excitement. “I hope there will be a way for me to retrieve my horses from Lord Saintcrow's possession, but until then I will be very grateful for the loan of your bays.”

It had not gone without Jasper's notice that she was looking exceptionally well this evening. For someone who had experienced a very difficult morning, she seemed in good spirits. If his mother or sisters had endured such a setback they'd have taken to their beds. Possibly for a week. Of course none of them would have considered joining a driving club in the first place, but that was beside the point.

Her gown, which was some shade between red and orange—he was no connoisseur of color—made a striking contrast against her dark hair, which was arranged with a series of wispy curls framing her face. A coiffure that fairly begged a man to brush them away from her cheek for a kiss.

Seeing the direction of Payne's gaze, he observed that the other man had not failed to notice the way her gown set off Hermione's very generous bosom. Time to cut this interview short, he thought with a frown.

“My apologies for the interruption,” he lied with a slight bow to Lord Payne, “but I must claim Lady Hermione for our waltz. You understand don't you, old chap?”

Hermione's lips pursed at the intrusion, but Lord Payne didn't seem to mind. “Not at all, Mainwaring,” he said with a nod. “We were just finishing up. Club business, you understand.”

“One might have thought the club could have done something earlier today to stand up for its newest member,” Jasper said blandly. He did not care for the way Payne had implied that he had some sort of private matter to discuss with Hermione. “I feel sure Saintcrow might have backed down if he'd been faced with the whole of the Lords of Anarchy rather than a single defenseless lady.”

“I wasn't defenseless,” Hermione said sharply, looking as if he'd betrayed her in some way. “I am quite able to take care of myself, thank you, Mainwaring. And it had nothing to do with the club.”

Jasper felt her frown like a stinging pinch, but he did not back down. “If that were the case then you would have been able to keep your horses, Lady Hermione.”

Lord Payne looked from one to the other with something like amusement. Which annoyed Jasper further. “We did not intervene, Mainwaring, because it looked to us like she already had champions in yourself and Lord Frederick. If you were not strong enough to stop Saintcrow from taking possession of her horses, then that is no fault of ours.”

Before Jasper could respond, Lord Payne gave a short bow. “I shall see you later in the week, then, Lady Hermione. Enjoy your dance.” And then he was gone.

The bastard hadn't even stayed behind long enough to be contradicted.

“That was entirely unnecessary,” Hermione said with a glower. “Especially since you yourself have admitted that there was little anyone could have done to dissuade Saintcrow from taking my horses.”

The opening notes of a waltz sounded then, and in a strangely possessive mood, Jasper maneuvered Hermione onto the dance floor.

“I could have refused to take the floor with you, you know,” she continued pettishly. “With anyone else I would have done.”

“Then I am heartily glad you did not,” Jasper said, breathing in the soft floral scent of her. “And I did not mean to offend you. I was merely taking your side. It seems to me that your fellow club members have not shown you the sort of support to which you are entitled.”

“So you truly believe Lord Saintcrow would have been convinced to abandon his intent to take my horses if the Lords of Anarchy had intervened?” she asked, her brow furrowed.

“Well, perhaps not,” Jasper admitted. Affairs of honor, like wagers, were not something that a gentleman typically interfered with. If Saintcrow said he'd won the horses from Hermione's father, then that was all that most men needed to give the fellow wide latitude. “But they might have tried. What good is it for you to belong to a driving club if they do not advocate on your behalf?”

“Oh, I don't know,” Hermione said with a roll of her eyes. “Perhaps because I wish to test my driving skills against those of the best drivers in England? I didn't join the Lords of Anarchy for the fellowship. Or even the safety of numbers. It was strictly about the driving.”

“And I suppose Payne lending a pair of his own horses is about the driving, as well?” Jasper asked, applying slight pressure at her waist as they moved with the dance.

“As a matter of fact,” she responded with a smile, “it is. I cannot drive without horses, and he has more than one pair. Thus I will take loan of his.”

He wanted to object on the basis that it was highly improper for a lady to accept such a gift from a gentleman, but since it was a loan, and therefore not precisely a gift, Jasper kept his mouth shut. And in his gut he knew his objection had nothing to do with the impropriety of the situation and everything to do with his growing possessiveness when it came to Hermione. If anyone was going to loan her a coaching pair, it should be him.

Unfortunately, he didn't own a coaching pair and, given his lack of enthusiasm for driving, was unlikely to in the near future.

“Since this subject is so unpleasant for both of us,” Hermione continued, “let us speak of something else. Why don't you tell me how your family go on?”

They finished the waltz engaged in polite chatter about his mother and sisters and her wardrobe discussions with Leonora and Ophelia.

When he brought her back to the edge of the ballroom once the dance was ended, he was about to make an excuse and flee when she gasped.

“My father,” she said through clenched teeth, as she stared at the door leading into the ballroom. “I have a few words to say to him.”

Before Jasper could respond, she was wending her way through the throng of guests. Suspecting that she might do something she'd regret, he hurried after her.

Lord Upperton, when they reached him, was in conversation with one of his cronies, Viscount Lindhurst, whom Jasper knew to be just as devoted to the gaming tables as Upperton. He didn't notice his daughter was standing behind him until she tapped him on the shoulder.

The flash of fear in his eyes before he masked it with ennui was almost comical.

“My dear daughter,” Hermione's father said languidly, “I didn't know you'd be here this evening. What a delightful surprise.”

If the man thought his daughter would give him a reprieve because they were in a public location, he'd underestimated the degree of her annoyance.

“I cannot imagine you are nearly as surprised as I was this morning when Lord Saintcrow informed me that he had won my grays from you at the gaming tables, Papa,” she said with a smile that did not reach her eyes.

Upperton's eyes widened and he said with a jovial laugh, “Ah, my dear, you mustn't bore my friends with our private family matters. I pray you will excuse us, Lindhurst. My daughter is having a fit of the vapors, don't you know?”

When Upperton grasped her upper arm in an attempt to pull her from the room, Jasper intervened. “You'd better unhand her, my lord,” he said quietly, his own hand gripped tight on the older man's forearm. “Why don't we retire to one of Comerford's less crowded rooms.”

At Jasper's grip, Upperton scowled, but let Hermione go. Wordlessly, he allowed Jasper to lead them into the hallway beyond and into an empty parlor.

When the door was closed firmly behind them, Hermione glared at him.

“This is between Papa and me,” she said firmly. “I appreciate your help, but it is not necessary.”

“Oh, let the man stay, Hermione,” Lord Upperton said wearily. “If for no other reason than to protect me from you.”

Hermione's expression darkened. “Then you admit that I have reason to be angry with you?”

Lord Upperton moved farther into the room, which was clearly some sort of little-used antechamber—perhaps for keeping unwanted guests in suspense while the butler took their cards to the mistress of the house. With a sigh, he stared into the fire which burned merrily despite the tension in the room.

“I did nothing wrong,” Upperton said, his back still turned, as if facing his daughter while he said it was too much even for his powers of mendacity.

“Nothing wrong?” Hermione almost shouted. “You lost my grays at the gaming table! My grays. Which belong to me. Not you. Do you not acknowledge that at the very least it was untoward?”

Jasper wanted nothing more than to make this right for her, but as a mere bystander he could not. He could see to it that her father faced her with his explanations, but he could hardly force the man to admit his guilt.

When Upperton turned around, it was with an expression of paternal indulgence that even he found condescending. And the man wasn't his father.

“My dear daughter,” Upperton said with a fatuous smile, “I know you are unfamiliar with men's business, so you will simply have to believe me when I say it could not be helped. I owed a debt to Lord Saintcrow, and he very kindly agreed to take the horses in exchange for it. It really could not be helped. And I must tell you how grateful I am to you for your forbearance in the matter.”

Jasper had been there, and knew that Upperton was lying through his teeth. But this was one of those cases where the truth of the matter would do no good. Since Saintcrow had the horses in his possession now, it would take nothing short of a legal proceeding or some very strong persuasion to get them back.

“My forbearance?” Hermione echoed, her voice softer now. As her father had spoken, she had slowly seemed to lose whatever strength her anger had given her. And in its place was a resignation that was far more difficult to see. “Papa, I am not a fool. And I do not admit that what you did was right. By law you might be entitled to my belongings, but ethically, what you did was a betrayal. And I'm not sure I shall ever be able to forgive you.”