Read The Scoundrel's Secret Siren Online
Authors: Daphne du Bois
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At last, Lorelei located her friend
in a particularly unpleasant area of Westminster, where dilapidated houses were complimented by nothing so much as general misery. Ragged, unwashed men, women and children loitered about even at so early an hour and the air smelled foul with a mixture of filth and gin, among other unsavoury odours.
Lorelei tried not to look too closely at the starving waifs, because surely all of humanity ought have been weeping at such a sight. She also avoided looking at the alarmingly inebriated men who tottered around the street. Lorelei did her very best to convey a sense of confidence and purpose, aware that she obviously did not belong in such environs and that in no time at all she might find herself the victim of an abductor, murderer or worse!
She shivered, for the weather had turned decidedly colder that day. It was as though the inhabitants of the bleak place were themselves shrouded in gloom and hopelessness. Catching sight of friend at last, she knew that somehow Julia’s plan had gone horribly, horribly wrong. It seemed she was just in time.
Julia looked pale and dishevelled among the filth and squalor, her face set in a
distressing look of horror. She stood cornered outside a tavern as a trio of dishevelled thuggish men towered over her little form. Lorelei wasted no time reining in the horses. The phaeton drew to a jerky halt, drawing the eyes of several loiterers, though not the thug cornering Julia.
Calling over a bewildered-looking errand boy, Lorelei promised him a guinea if he would hold her horses until she returned. The boy made no reply, but accepted the reins. Lorelei thought wryly that Mr Taylor would have been struck dumb at the idea of his phaeton and pair so recklessly treated.
Forgetting all about elegance or the inevitable ruin of her gown and boots, she leapt out of the carriage and rushed over to her friend, avoiding the worst puddles of indeterminate origin. The air was even fouler on foot.
“Julia, there you are, you goose!” Lorelei exclaimed, ignoring the men, and assuming her most brisk manner. “I have been
searching for you everywhere.”
Julia gasped when she saw her friend, her eyes filling with equal relief and dread.
“Why, her ladyship has a friend,” one of the filthy men jeered, turning to his two companions. The reek of gin on his breath made Lorelei nauseous. She took Julia firmly by the elbow.
“How much do you suppose the return of two such pretty treasures would fetch from their most exalted families?” another asked his companions.
“We are leaving, right now, and you would do well to step aside,” Lorelei informed them coldly, drawing herself to her full height. She held Mr Talbot’s horsewhip at the ready, prepared to defend herself in this veritable den of crime.
“Would we, pretty?”
The ruffians laughed heartily, eyeing Lorelei in a way that made her wish she had thought to bring a pistol. One of them made a move to grab her, when he froze suddenly and a cold, familiar voice spoke from behind him.
“I would watch my hands if I were you, my good man. This sword is very sharp.”
Lorelei felt a sense of relief flood through her as the ruffians parted, revealing Lord Winbourne. The earl looked majestic in his many-caped cloak, an expression of cool derision on his face and a raging fire burning in his eyes. Lorelei’s heart skipped a beat.
The point of Winbourne’s sword rested
against the back of the thug who had been about to grab Lorelei.
She could see fear and comprehension dawning slowly in the blurry eyes of their would-be abductors, as they spat on the ground, muttered expletives and backed off, deciding that having their blood spilled was not worth the trouble.
“I am going to lower my sword, and you are going to walk away without so much a glance behind you. I warn you that should you disobey me in this, I won’t feel the least remorse over dispatching you,” Winbourne informed the man still held frozen in place by his sword.
In a moment, Lorelei and Julia were left facing Winbourne’s displeased expression. Julia grew even paler.
“If you will only be so good as to await us in the carriage, niece, I wish to speak privately to Miss Lindon.” His expression was unreadable, and Julia shot a worried, apologetic look at Lorelei, who stood stubbornly unmoved.
He was certainly setting himself up for disappointment, if he thought he was going to bully her
into contrition! Lorelei thought angrily as she met the earl’s dark gaze. Any trace of the joy she’d felt at his timely arrival faded like mist with the coming dawn.
Julia walked slowly towards the carriage, still looking doubtful.
“Well, what have you to say for yourself? Did you come here thinking to join my absurd niece in running away to the country?”
Lorelei shot him a furious look. “Certainly not
! My own intention to remove from London had nothing to do with Julia’s elopement. I simply find that the country will suit me rather well just now.” Then she realised what she had just admitted, and covered her mouth in horror.
“Ah, yes: to live and die in obscurity, I suppose. Did you think to flee today, or would you have given Lady Hurst a brief respite before indulging in your own scandal? It may interest you to know the poor woman was shockingly distressed at your abrupt exit.”
“And for that I am sorry. But it is for the best that I should leave. Did you think I would stay to shame my family, or live forever under your scorn? I think not,” the young woman retorted, unbowed under his cold anger. “And I would have removed thus quietly to Ledley, if only Julia had not decided to make her hare-brained flight.”
“Shame? Whatever could you mean?” Winbourne looked genuinely bewildered beneath his fury, giving Lorelei pause. “You have thought better of what has passed between us, then? You wish after all, to wed a quiet biddable fellow and be well rid of me, my dear?”
“Wed? No! When I …woke, you were gone, without so much as a word. What was I to think but that you had disdained me for my lack of morals?”
“I left a note!
Did you not find it?”
“A brief and callous note, which served only to enforce my certainty of your disfavour!”
Winbourne was truly taken aback – he had not thought there was anything wrong in his note. After all, it was only a way of explaining his absence and promising his return. He could recall nothing either cold or dismissive in it.
“This is absurd,” he said at last, at a loss for other words. “And your morals, whatever state they may be in, surely do not bother me, a man of dissipate past.”
“Your past! As if that matters!” she exclaimed fervently, hoping he would read the truth of her heart in those words. “There is nothing in you that could ever taint me. I, however, will be the talk of the town.”
“The Devil you will!” he replied, voice laced with passion. “Now we’ll have no more of this nonsense and you will come back with me, meet your father and do me the honour of becoming my wife. No more of these night-time gambols, Miss Lindon. I expect my countess to remain by my side and entirely at my disposal.” His voice dropped into a sensual caress.
Lorelei paused a moment and stared up into his eyes, not at all sure she’d understood him correctly.
“Your countess?” she whispered breathlessly.
“Just so. Ridiculous girl – did you think that I could leave you? That I would ever dishonour you? I could not bear the very thought and had gone to make arrangements so that I might offer for your hand with the propriety you deserve.”
He lifted the fingers of her hand and kissed them. “Unless you would rather not?
I can only say, Miss Lindon, that for the remaining days of my life, whether they are to be happy or otherwise, depends entirely on you.”
His eyes told her that he spoke entirely in earnest.
She was startled by the uncharacteristic hesitation that suddenly coloured his voice.
Despite herself, and before she had so much as a moment to think, Lorelei reached out and took his hands in her own. She wanted very much to cry, to laugh and to kiss him all at once. It seemed that Winbourne correctly read her expression, however, because in that moment, his lips descended upon hers and she melted willingly and utterly into his kiss, safe in the comforting hold of his arms.
There, she would have been content to rest forever. Only the necessity of breathing and the societal demand that they seal their vow in some sort of public ceremony forced them to break their embrace, but only temporarily. Lorelei knew in that moment that there was not another man in all the world whom she would rather marry.
Taking his voluminous greatcoat off without seeming to think about it, he placed it over her delicate shoulders, much too small for the garment.
The Earl of Winbourne looked utterly content with the world until something seemed to occur to him.
“You stole Taylor’s carriage!”
She surprised him by laughing. “Ah. I only borrowed it. I mean to give it back. I am certain he’ll forgive me for driving it. I am a dab hand with the reins and whip, you know.”
“Hmm.”
The wedding of the Earl of Winbourne and his new countess was a quietly tasteful affair.
The engagement had been announced in the Society journals as was only proper, but despite the best efforts of the earl’s eldest sister, neither the bride nor groom could be persuaded to make much of a fuss of their nuptials.
Lorelei had been deeply amused to find herself the subject of many envious looks, as calculating mamas and snide debutantes alike wondered how it was that so unremarkable a girl had endeavoured to win for herself so fine a matrimonial prize.
Among the numerous wedding gifts with which Winbourne presented his bride, the first and most private had been her mother’s pendant. He returned it with a rueful grin, explaining that he no longer needed to keep a trinket of hers when he would now have all of her for the rest of his life.
Lorelei had laughed and worn it to the wedding: it went beautifully with the cream and gold crepe gown that Lady Hurst had had made for her. The dress made Lorelei look as though she were glowing in the late summer sun. Winbourne’s breath caught when he took in the lady before him.
The bride’s father, the General Lord Ledley, was extremely joyous to see his elder daughter well married. He seemed especially pleased that she had managed to achieve this blessed state without any effort on his part. He called her a capital girl, and happily wished the new husband the best of luck keeping her out of mischief.
Then, catching sight of a joyously teary Lady Hurst, he had most solicitously turned his attention to the lady. Watching them, Lorelei quite made up her mind to give the stubborn general a push in the right direction. Winbourne heartily refused to be dragged into any such scheme, declaring that it was much too soon to make an enemy of her father-in-law by meddling in his personal affairs.
His new wife’s impish smile made him feel just a little bit wary.
Following the announcement of the engagement, Mr Taylor had joked heartily about Winbourne whisking away the lady before any other fellow had a sporting chance of winning her affections. Lorelei had laughed, of course, but she knew that no other gentleman would have had a chance. Her heart had belonged to Winbourne from the first moment she’d met him on her ghost hunt.
If Lorelei was now Julia’s aunt by marriage, this only served to strengthen their friendship. Julia declared laughingly that she relied wholeheartedly on her friend to assist in planning her own upcoming nuptials. At his bride’s insistence, Winbourne had at last prevailed upon Lady Bassincourt, and Julia was betrothed to Mr Hunter.
Following the bridal breakfast, the couple left on a long and happy stay at Winbourne’s house in Somerset, for the bride had insisted that they go somewhere near the sea. Her reasoning had been that neither of them liked the country and town was much too full of unnecessary callers. Winbourne had declared that he would go to the wilds of Scotland if only it amused his sweetest siren, for he was sure that there would not be a dull moment in her company no matter where they went.
When they returned to town, disappointing all the gossips by being obscenely happy, they went on living together in a manner that suggested they had done so all their lives. They still quarrelled, of course, and each enjoyed it as much as the other. Winbourne stubbornly persisted in maintaining his cool façade in public, but it served only to amuse his wife and though many wondered what she saw in so cold a husband, Lorelei did not ever regret her choice.
Constance made regular visits to her sister’s house, and eagerly awaited her own coming-out, when the new Lady Winbourne would sponsor her introduction at court and shepherd her through all the excitement of a London Season.
Con was too young yet to think of husbands much, though she knew already that she meant to have fine dresses, dance all the best dances at Almack’s and make a splash about town. Her brother-in-law teased her by saying that, between himself and the general, they would make sure to keep away all the handsome scoundrels.
Winbourne had taken to the girl as if she were his own little sister and Lorelei knew that, when their own children arrived, he would be the most doting of fathers.
The Winbourne family seat, to which they paid a visit and stayed a week, was a charming and comfortable house, and Lorelei delighted in it (though not as much as Constance, who had insisted on painting and sketching a myriad different country views).
In the course of their stay in the country
, they were treated to enough local ghost stories to make Winbourne extract a promise of his young wife that she would not go out in search of any spectres, or at least that she would let him join her. Lorelei knew, however, that she could not remain there for long, taking tea with parsons’ wives and watching the rain fall.
Lorelei then proceeded to thoroughly scandalise the respectable ladies of the neighbourhood by being seen racing her husband across the countryside on horseback.
“I expect I have been quite condemned as a hopeless hoyden,” Lorelei whispered to Winbourne in the dark when they had retired to bed. “It is quite completely your fault for challenging me. I shall, of course, tell them as much should they ever ask me – I see no reason for you to go blameless, my lord Winbourne.”
Winbourne laughed into her shoulder at the very idea. With every blissful inseparable night, it felt more and more right to have his warm presence resting next to hers as they drifted off to sleep, his arm protectively over her as though they rested in their own private world.
Lorelei had heard from many married ladies that matrimony was often a cold and joyless state, a terminal death of affection and regard, and yet she was delighted to discover that, whatever their experiences of marriage, hers was nothing of the sort.
The new Lady Winbourne could make no secret of the fact that she was most unfashionably in love with her own husband.
Fin.