To Seduce a Scoundrel (10 page)

SITUATED on a pale green settee across the drawing room, Abigail, Lady von Egmont, the source of misery in Philippa’s mother’s marriage, laughed at something Philippa’s father whispered in her ear. She was precisely one year widowed, which is why Father had chosen this moment to bring her back to England, her homeland.

For the past three days, Philippa had suffered the woman’s intrusion on their household and her father’s obvious affection for her. The way they fawned over each other—in plain sight of everyone at Herrick House—made Philippa want to toss up her accounts. It also made her eager to escape. As in permanently leave Herrick House behind. Suddenly her parents’ edict that she marry this season had acquired a quite tolerable taste.

Hence, her husband hunt had been revised to
The Necessary and Most Immediate Husband Hunt
and would be launched tonight at Lady Dunwoody’s ball.

Armed with a list of potential suitors, Philippa meant to narrow her field to five or less. Then she would do her best to glean the marriageability of each one. She couldn’t hope to fall in love quickly, so she’d have to dispense with that life-long goal and settle for someone who would be faithful, with the hope they might build something more. But how could she possibly be certain of a man’s fidelity? During courtship, they would behave in whatever manner necessary to gain the prize they sought—Philippa and her ten thousand pound dowry.

Sickened by the spectacle on the settee, she turned her gaze to Lady von Egmont’s son, Pieter, standing at the windows. Tall with gently waving blond hair and an athletic physique, he presented a handsome figure. He was also charming, intelligent, and witty.

Father had invited them to London—ostensibly—to see if Lord von Egmont and Philippa would suit. However, both she and von Egmont knew the real purpose behind the von Egmonts’ visit: their parents’ intent to carry on their decades-old affair now that Lady von Egmont was a widow.

Father had also indicated he was providing “assistance” to an “old friend” given the strife in their French-occupied homeland. Philippa just wasn’t sure blowing in Lady von Egmont’s ear was the type of assistance an old friend ought to provide. Particularly when one’s wife was upstairs.

Philippa clenched her fists, outraged on her mother’s behalf. Mother scarcely spent any time at Herrick House, and when she did, she kept to her room. She professed a headache, but everyone, including the servants, knew the truth.

That was why, when the countess entered the drawing room a moment later, four heads turned to her in complete shock. To her mother’s credit, she simply smiled serenely at everyone and murmured, “Good evening.”

They’d gathered in the drawing room before going to Lady Dunwoody’s ball. Tonight was to be Lady von Egmont’s first foray into Society since returning to London. She’d grown up here and it was, in fact, where she’d met Philippa’s father. Unfortunately for them, she’d already been betrothed; otherwise their history—as well as Philippa’s—would have been written quite differently.

Philippa gave her mother a warm smile meant to convey support. “Good evening, Mother. You look lovely.” A dark purple feather arced from her upswept hair, and her form appeared long and slender beneath the graceful drape of her amethyst gown. Despite the trials of the past few days, she was the epitome of vibrancy and beauty.

“I’m taking the carriage to Lady Dunwoody’s, Philippa, if you’d care to join me.” She narrowed her eyes at her husband. “Herrick, I presume you will escort the von Egmonts and help them acclimate. You’ll forgive me if I focus on Philippa this evening.” This made sense even if it wasn’t for the monstrous chasm that now divided her parents. Lady Dunwoody’s ball was one of the premier events of the Season and would be Philippa’s best opportunity for culling her list of suitors. That her mother wanted to personally supervise her this evening spoke volumes about Mother’s priorities. She wanted Philippa married posthaste.

Philippa stood and smoothed the skirt of her aquamarine dress. “I’m ready, Mother.” She turned and gave a nod to her father who was now scowling a bit darkly.

“I’d hoped for Philippa to arrive with me and the von Egmonts.”

Philippa noted her mother’s heightened color and intervened. “Now, Father, it wouldn’t be at all fair to the other gentleman if I arrived on the arm of Lord von Egmont. But I shall save him a dance.” She flashed a smile at their houseguest who gave her an infinitesimal bow in return.

Her father pursed his lips, and while he didn’t look pleased, he made no further complaint. With that, Philippa left the drawing room with her mother, and they were soon situated in the carriage on their way to Lady Dunwoody’s.

“Did you mean what you said about arriving with von Egmont?” her mother asked. “May I correctly interpret you are finally getting to the business of securing a husband?”

Philippa wished she didn’t sound so cold and calculated about it, but then she herself was going about this in a far more calculated manner than she would ever have thought. “Yes.”

“I’m pleased to hear it. The sooner the better, in fact.” She paused and inhaled deeply. “There’s no easy way to say this, so I’ll just come out with it. I’ve let my own townhouse. I’ll be leaving Herrick House in thirty days’ time.”

Mother’s selfishness was deeper than Philippa had thought. Philippa flexed her hands against her skirt and refused to allow her chest to burn. “You couldn’t wait until after I was betrothed?”

“I would’ve preferred to, yes, but the situation at home is intolerable. And I couldn’t be sure you would wed.” She shifted her gaze away. “I still can’t.”

Philippa straightened, stung by her mother’s lack of trust and patience. She wholly understood her mother’s position regarding the atmosphere at Herrick House, but how could she put a timeframe on Philippa’s future happiness? She could hope her mother’s defection from Herrick House wouldn’t cause a major scandal, but it would be enough to deter most suitors—those worth having, anyway—from pursuing her.

It seemed her
Necessary and Most Immediate Husband Hunt
required another revision: the
Direly Important Crusade to Marry Before Scandal Ruined Her
.

“Mother, the likelihood of my marrying in the next thirty days is nearly impossible. I’d have to become betrothed in the next few days in order to allow time for the banns to be read. And I can’t imagine my betrothed seeking a special license to accommodate your whim.”

“You don’t have to wed, you only have to become engaged. Your groom won’t cry off because your mother moved into her own residence.”

One could hope. But it appeared her mother had no sympathy for her situation—a situation
she’d
created.

Her mother turned her head and regarded her with open curiosity. “Who do you have your eye on this evening?”

Though Philippa had given this plenty of thought, she didn’t want to discuss it with her mother. Their motives were far different even though they sought the same end. She wondered if Mother wouldn’t just marry her off to the first man they came across at Dunwoody House.

Still, she offered a couple of names to avoid further pestering. “Lord Vick and Lord Allred.”

Mother nodded. “Allred’s an excellent choice. Vick isn’t bad, though I’m surprised you’d consider someone of his age.” Vick was a widower north of thirty, but he was charming and intelligent, and possessed a love of horses, which Philippa shared.

Another name rose unbidden to her mind. Sevrin. Ha! As if he’d even be at Lady Dunwoody’s.

He couldn’t be on Philippa’s list of suitors. Aside from his ghastly reputation, he’d made it clear he wasn’t the marrying kind. Even if he were, he wouldn’t be the kind she’d want. His kisses were toe-curlingly delicious, but the darkness and violence simmering beneath his attractive exterior didn’t bode well for a happy union. If nothing else, Philippa meant not to repeat her mother’s mistake. If she had any inkling at all that a man would make her miserable, he was off the list.

At last the carriage arrived at Dunwoody House. Her mother prepared to alight. “I shall do my part to advocate you to Allred and Vick. Allred’s grandmother is delightful and will take kindly to your attention—make sure you visit with her. At the end of the evening you’ll need to return to Herrick House with your father.”

Philippa wasn’t surprised by this pronouncement, but again saw exactly where her mother stood with regard to their crumbling family. “I’m sure I’ll find my way home. Please don’t concern yourself.”

Her mother pursed her lips at the edge in Philippa’s tone, but Philippa kept her chin elevated. After her mother departed the carriage, Philippa exhaled and prayed the evening would go on much better than it had started.

Once inside, they greeted their hosts and then parted ways without saying a word. Upon entering the ballroom, Philippa was immediately hailed by her friends Lady Lydia Prewitt and Miss Audrey Cheswick.

Lady Lydia, the epitome of a young London miss with her warm brown eyes and pale blonde hair, drew Philippa away from the doorway. Philippa barely had time to register the fragrant lilies blooming in profusion about the ballroom or the ivory and gold decorations swathing the walls.

“Goodness, Philippa, we feared for your health after so many days away,” Lydia said. “We’ve been so bereft without you—our shining leader.” Lydia, ever dramatic, placed her hand over her heart.

“‘Shining leader’?” Philippa laughed and shook her head. “Pray, you aren’t going to start calling me that.”

“You know very well Audrey and I are lost without you,” Lydia said. “We simply fade into the background without your sparkling wit and charm to remind people we exist.”

Philippa felt heat rise up her neck. “Stop, you’re making me out to be far too important.”

Audrey, a quiet young woman whom most would term a wallflower, nodded in agreement. “It’s true. You always make sure we’re included in conversations, and you endeavor to secure us dance partners. You’re a true friend. We missed you.”

Philippa gave Audrey’s hand a squeeze. “I missed you, too.”

Lydia leaned forward. “Yes, well, so many things have happened. Saxton has returned with his bride. There’s a rumor she’s increasing.” In addition to her penchant for drama, Lydia thrived on gossip. She narrowed her eyes and regarded Philippa shrewdly. “Is that why you stayed away? Of course I would completely understand. Losing Saxton to her of all people…” She shook her head and rolled her eyes.

Philippa ignored Lydia’s spite. Lydia possessed a wealth of time, a dearth of hobbies, and a harridan of an aunt who encouraged her to obtain and spread gossip at a breakneck pace. It was because of her poor example that Philippa sought to affect Lydia in more positive ways. She smiled and gave a light shrug. “You know I declined his suit, Lydia.”

Audrey pursed her lips at Lydia. “Philippa isn’t bothered in the least by Saxton or his bride.”

Lydia looked unconvinced, but said nothing more on the subject. “The other morsel you missed has to do with Viscount Sevrin.”

Her heartbeat gained speed. Sevrin? She couldn’t help but inwardly cringe as she thought of the scandalous way in which they’d met and spent their evening at Lockwood House. For a moment, her blood ran cold as she wondered if she was somehow part of this gossip. But, no, surely her friends would have told her immediately, or visited her before now.

Forcing her voice to remain calm and even, she asked, “What morsel is that?”

Lydia glanced around to ascertain if anyone was listening. When her gaze settled briefly on a pair of matrons within earshot, she raised her voice. “He was seen at Lockwood House.”

Philippa’s stomach flipped over, and heat suffused her body. Again, she tried to maintain her equilibrium. “Why is that news?”

“Surely you know what Lockwood House is.” Lydia rolled her eyes again. “Goodness, Philippa, I’m beginning to think you were actually ill.”

Audrey shook her head at Lydia. “Can’t you just tell her?” She turned to Philippa, but did not adopt Lydia’s too-loud tone. “He was there with a
woman
.”

Philippa recalled what the criminal Jagger had said about Sevrin the other night. Did people really believe he preferred men? She couldn’t imagine that was true. He’d kissed her. Twice.

“Why is this notable? I should think someone like him would be expected to visit Lockwood House.”

“Yes, but he’s never been seen there with a woman. Though she was masked, rumor has it her form was quite beautiful. There are at least a dozen wagers at White’s as to her identity.”

Philippa’s interest sharpened as her insides twisted. “Who do they think she is?”

“Most of the names are courtesans. But there’s a wager she’s Quality.” Lydia gave her a sly smile. “And unmarried, to boot.”

Philippa’s discomfort vaulted to full nausea.

Audrey shook her head again. “Absent a specific name, this is all ridiculous conjecture. Honestly, men will wager on the color of the sky.”

Lydia patted her immaculate hair. “I, for one, am determined to learn the identity of this mystery woman.”

Philippa nearly choked.

Audrey’s expression turned sympathetic. “I feel sorry for her, whoever she is.”

“Oh, don’t,” Lydia said. “She had the wherewithal to attend a party at Lockwood House. Like as not, she’s looking for a bit of notoriety.”

Philippa finally found her tongue. “If that were true, don’t you think she would have foregone a mask?”

“You would think, but apparently that just isn’t
done
at Lockwood House. Unless you’re Sevrin, but then he’s made it clear he doesn’t follow the rules.”

“And what will you do when you identify this poor woman?” Audrey asked.

Lydia blinked. “Accept the accolades for discovering her, of course.”

“Oh, well, I only wondered if you meant to somehow collect on the wager at White’s.” Audrey winked at Philippa. They often provoked Lydia—good-naturedly—about seeking notoriety.

“Of course not.” Lydia grinned. “That would be incredibly gauche.”

Audrey shook her head. “I still don’t understand why you would focus on Sevrin of all people. He’s so far outside our circle—I’m certain you can count the number of times you’ve seen him on one hand. He’s a
scoundrel
.” She shuddered. “The things they say he did.”