Landing a Laird (3 page)

Such a match would solve Lydell’s problems.  “I don’t know her, so I don’t know how to go about gaining an introduction.”

“
Doors are open to you everywhere, and mothers like you.”

“
They like you as well,” Gideon insisted.

Lydell snorted. “That was last year.  Only the most desperate wallflowers or those who wish for a title pay me any mind now.”

There was some truth in the statement. Gideon had witnessed it the previous evening.  Before Lydell’s empty coffers became fodder for the gossips, he’d had his pick from the crop of debutants each year.  But last night, young women had actually tried to avoid him.  

“
What would you like me to do?”

Lydell brightened.  “Gain an introduction, learn what you can, then arrange for me to meet her somewhere private.”

“
Arrange in private?”  There was an odd tightening in Gideon’s gut.

“
Yes. If she wishes to compromise a fellow, and you think we’ll suit, then I’ll see it done.”

“
I am not picking your bride for you.”  Lydell had gone around the bend.  “You expect me to simply deliver her into your hands at some unknown location to be whisked north and across the border?”

Lydell shrugged. “Something like that.”

“
You are mad.”

“
Please, Ainsely.  I need an immediate solution to my problem.”

Gideon studied his old classmate, in a near state of panic. “I will obtain an introduction, meet the chit, and somehow achieve an introduction for you in a proper setting.  That is all.”

Lydell brightened. “Thank you. I knew I could count on you.”

Gideon sighed and picked up his glass. The smooth whiskey slid down his throat.  “Where shall she be tonight? I will endeavor to bring this about.”

“
Davenport’s.”

Bloody hell.  
The last place he wanted to be tonight was the Davenports’. The man had five daughters between the ages of ten-and-seven and two-and-twenty, and hadn’t managed to marry any of them off yet.  In fact, that particular invitation was already in the trash. He’d met the Davenport daughters and, simply put, none of them would suit.

“
My maid has a sister who works in the household next door to—”

“
Spare me the details about how you know where Lady Moira will be, but this venue will not do.”

“
It must.  You promised.”

Damn it. He had.  Gideon scowled. Lydell would owe him for this for the rest of his miserable years.  “Very well.”

 

Moira rushed to the entrance of Hyde Park, Beatrice trailing behind her.  Oh, she hoped Pippa had waited for her.  Her departure had been delayed when Mother made Moira change clothing and insisted on her hair being rearranged. What did it matter? She was wearing a bonnet, which covered most of her head. Then her scarf was all wrong.  Moira had adorned five different ones before her mother finally approved.  All this fuss and bother over a simple stroll in the park.  If a gentleman dismissed her on account of her scarf, then he wasn’t worth considering.

Lady Philippa Casemore waited for Moira by the entry gate, her maid just a few feet away. “I am so sorry I am late,” Moira said as she linked arms with her friend and headed toward Rotten Row.  

“
It’s no bother,” Pippa insisted.

Moira cast a sidelong glance at her friend. Pippa looked rather pale this afternoon. “Are you feeling well?”

“
Better than this morning.”

“
Oh dear.  Probably from too much fun at the Heathfields’ last evening.”

Pippa only offered a weak smile.  Perhaps it hadn’t been as enjoyable as Moira had imagined.  She would find out soon enough, but first she needed to get her friend’s advice.  “I have something to tell you, but you cannot tell anyone else.”

Pippa leaned her head closer to Moira’s.  “You can tell me anything, you know that.”

And thank heavens for it. The two had been so close the last few years at the Broadmoor Academy. Moira didn’t know what she’d have done without her dear friends, the only other souls who knew how desperately Moira needed to escape her mother. “I made an innocent comment to Alvina last evening that was somehow overheard. Now my name is in the White’s betting book. Mother is going to have an apoplexy when she learns of it.”

Pippa’s eyes widened in surprise. She started to speak, but Moira cut her off, afraid of being censured by her level-headed friend.  

“
I plan to make it work to my advantage, however.”

“
Make it work to your advantage? Oh, Moira, how could you possibly do that?”

“
My name is now known in a rather important gentleman’s club. Given Mother whisked me away from the ball last evening after only an hour, this may be my only chance to be known.”

“
Oh, Moira—”

But Moira cut her off once more.  “Granted, it wasn’t my plan to have all of society know I am willing to compromise a gentleman to get what I want, but at least now suitable candidates will seek me out, and I can choose the best Scot for the position.”

Pippa stopped and Moira turned to face her friend.  “You think it’s a horrible plan, I can tell. But, Pippa, you don’t understand what it’s like to live with my mother.”

“
It’s not that.” Pippa winced, and though it looked like she meant to say more, she only pursed her lips.

“
Then what is it?” Moira prodded.

Pippa face fell even more. “Yours isn’t the only name in White’s betting book.”

“
It’s not?”

A mirthless laugh escaped her friend. “Apparently
I
am to be bedded by Lord St. Austell before the Season is out.”

The devilish rake her mother had warned her from? And Pippa? Moira didn’t try to hide her amusement.  “I’m sure there are worse fates.”

Pippa’s mouth fell open. “You know him?”  

Only by sight. “No, but mother pointed him out to me last night with dire warnings.”

“
What does he look like?”

“
Why, we just passed him. He was with Lord Heathfield.” Moira turned around to find the scoundrel in question. “He was right over…” But Pippa was gone, almost as though she’d vanished in thin air. “Pippa!” Moira called. Good heavens, where did she run off to? They were to have tea with Patience Findley and Georgianna Bexley-Smythe after their walk.

 

“
That’s her? Lady Moira?” Gideon asked.

“
The very one,” Jordan answered with an unrepentant grin.  

Gideon studied the young woman whom Lydell would probably marry.  The obnoxious bonnet shaded most of her head, but a few ringlets escaped. Red, the shade of sunrise.  And, he could well understand why she used the parasol to shade her face from the sun.  Such a pale complexion could burn in a matter of moments.
I wonder if she has freckles. I’ve always been partial to them.
High cheek bones and a delicate nose were a fine match to the thin, arched eyebrows and full lips. Had she applied cosmetics, or were they naturally red?  

Lydell would be quite pleased indeed.  A fortune and a lovely face.  What more could a man wish for? However, he knew his friend well enough that her shape, what Gideon could determine in the current fashion, was not Lydell’s preference. He liked slight ladies, narrow hips and smaller breasts.  Lady Moira possessed none of those attributes. He wouldn’t exactly describe her as buxom, but she was far from lacking.  

“
Ah, here is our chance for an introduction.”  

Gideon tore his eyes away from the lady and looked to his friend.  

Lord and Lady Hearne approached Lady Moira. “As we are all friends, here is your chance and maybe you can avoid the blasted Davenports’ this evening.”

Hearne and his wife reached Lady Moira a few moments ahead of Gideon, but he could overhear their conversation.

“
Weren’t you supposed to be with Lady Philippa this afternoon?”  Hearne inquired, a slight edge to his tone.  Of course the man would be more protective than usual, given his sister’s sudden notoriety.

“
She was just here. I turned my back for only a moment and she disappeared.”

“
Mother will not be happy if she finds out you were here unaccompanied.”

“
Beatrice is with me.” Lady Moira pointed to a young maid standing but a few feet away in deep conversation with another servant.

“
I can see that Beatrice is doing her job in keeping a keen eye on you.”

“
Oh Nyle, it has only been for a few moments.  I survived unscathed, I assure you.”

“
Good afternoon, Lord and Lady Hearne,” Gideon greeted as he finally reached his destination.

The three turned to look at him and Jordan.  

“
Ainsely.” Hearne stuck his hand out and shook it.  The earl was not so warm in his greeting of Gideon’s companion, however. “Mr. Trent.”  

Odd. The two were friends. Why the coldness from Hearne?  Perhaps the earl took issue with the appreciative way Jordan was looking at his sister. Actually, Gideon didn’t like it one bit either, now that he thought about it.

“
Have you met my sister, Lady Moira Kirkwood?”

“
I have not had the honor.” Jordan stepped forward, grasped the lady’s gloved hand, and placed a kiss on her knuckles.  “Mr. Jordan Trent at your service.”

A blush formed on her cheeks as she drew back her hand. Jordan did have a way of making young women fancy him.

“
It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance.”  Gideon executed a slight bow to the lovely young woman.  Her grey eyes studied him.  While she didn’t blush as she had under Jordan’s scrutiny, slight crinkles appeared around her eyes and a smile came to her lips.  And there was a light smattering of freckles across her nose.  A lovely face, indeed.

“
This is Lord Ainsely, since he seems to have forgotten his own name for the moment.”  

Gideon couldn’t believe he hadn’t actually introduced himself, even though Hearne should have done that for him in the first place, and probably would have it Jordan hadn’t absconded with the lady’s hand before anyone could get another word in.

“
It is a pleasure to meet you both.”  She dipped into a quick curtsey.

“
Will either of you be attending the Davenports’ ball this evening,” Lady Hearne asked, probably to make conversation since an uncomfortable silence had ensued.

Jordan frowned. “I have other plans.”

It had been Gideon’s intention to forgo the affair as well, having now accomplished his goal in meeting with Lady Moira, but now…  “I plan on being present.”

Jordan and Hearne both looked at him as if he were mad.  Perhaps he was. Why else would he agree to attend the Davenports’ when there was no longer a reason?

 

Moira shifted from one foot to the other. She’d promised Pippa to watch the door for Lord Colebrooke, but having never seen the gentleman, how would she know him if he walked in?  Instead, she trained her eyes for St. Austell, so she could point him out to Pippa, so her friend could avoid
that
gentleman in the future.  If only she could have stayed longer at the Heathfield ball last evening. Perhaps she could have saved her friend much embarrassment.