A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (13 page)

After adding one sugar to Lord Clayworth’s
tea, Cordie handed him the cup and took her own spot on the lavish,
gold settee across from him. The earl’s earlier smile was gone, and
he appeared like a man with much on his mind. She heaved a sigh. It
would be much more difficult to charm answers out of him now. It
was also hard to remember why she wanted to know anything about
Haversham when Clayworth’s twilight eyes landed on her. He truly
could take her breath away with just one look.

“You do realize if I hadn’t been there, you
could have ended up in quite a bit of trouble?”

Trouble? From Brookfield? She giggled. The
fortune-hunting viscount was far from her favorite person, and she
would never consider marriage to him—but the man was harmless, if a
bit odiferous.

“I do wish you’d take this seriously,” he
said, his frown deepening.

Cordie took a sip of her own tea, hoping to
cover her grin. No one could take Brookfield seriously, except it
seemed for Lord Clayworth. Then again, Lord Clayworth took
everything seriously, so she shouldn’t be surprised. “Have you been
well?” she asked, hoping to lighten the mood.

The earl’s face softened a bit. “You’re
changing the subject. Don’t you realize it’s dangerous for a pretty
girl to go around unchaperoned?”

“Yes, I had a lovely time in Norfolk. Thank
you so much for asking,” she replied, then took another sip of
tea.

He rubbed his brow and closed his eyes, as
if to stave off a headache, but Cordie knew she was charming
him.  A small smile tugged on the corner of his lips and her
heart raced at the sight. He was always a striking man, but when he
smiled, no one was more handsome. Lord Adonis was a most
appropriate moniker.

Clayworth opened his eyes, piercing her with
his stare. “I’ve never met a lady less concerned for her own
personal safety before. Does your mother know the chances you
take?”

Not if she could help it. Cordie toyed with
one of the ties from her dress and shook her head. “You won’t tell
her, will you, my lord?” she asked, hoping she sounded coy.

He heaved a sigh. “I should, you know.
Someone needs to keep you out of trouble.”

Cordie flashed him a charming smile and
could actually see his resolve melt away.

“Just promise me you’ll be careful,” he
said, his baritone voice rumbling over her.

This was perfect. They were negotiating.
There would be no reason to sneak off to Lady Staveley’s if he’d
just tell her what she wanted to know. “I’ll promise, on one
condition.”

“Yes?” He narrowed his eyes on her.

“I’ll promise to be more careful and take a
maid out with me in the future, if you’ll tell me something.”

“What do you want to know?” he asked as he
slid to the edge of his seat, his desire-filled eyes drinking her
in.

Cordie swallowed. If she didn’t ask now,
she’d lose her nerve and get caught up in the emotions of being
with him. “I—um—well, you must know whatever horrible thing Lord
Haversham did years ago. The thing no one talks about. What was
it?” The words flew out of her mouth.

Clayworth deflated before her eyes. A frown
marred his too handsome face and he slumped against the back of his
chair. He looked as if he’d just been punched. His eyes slowly rose
to meet hers. “Haversham.”

Her heart aching, she nodded. It was one
thing knowing she was ignoring her own heart, and another to know
she’d hurt him. That certainly hadn’t been her intent. “I am
sorry.” It was impossible for the simple words to convey just how
sorry she was.

He steeled his features and shook his head.
“The particulars aren’t for an innocent lady’s ears, Miss Avery.
I’m not willing to barter your safety. Promise me you’ll be
careful. If you ended up hurt I— Just promise me.”

His sincere plea was almost too much for
Cordie, and she found herself nodding in agreement.

“I’ll hold you to that.” Clayworth stood up
and placed his cup with the tea service. “Until next time, Miss
Avery.”

He was leaving? Cordie suddenly felt like
crying. “You’ll return tomorrow, won’t you?” she asked before she
could stop herself. He shouldn’t come back. It was too hard to see
him.

Clayworth heaved a sigh. “I am supposed to
take you for a ride, Miss Avery, but under the circumstances, if
you’d rather not—”

“Oh, please do,” she said, even though she
should let him go. But it was just
one
outing. One ride in
his exquisite phaeton. No one but the two of them. She’d have to
live the rest of her life without him. Shouldn’t she get at least
one ride to remember through the years?

“As you wish.” Clayworth nodded and then
strode quickly from the room, taking Cordie’s heart with him.

She was making the logical choice, wasn’t
she? Clayworth was too intense. He’d never let her have the freedom
she desired. She was making the right decision. She just wished it
didn’t hurt so dreadfully.

Cordie had no idea how long she sat staring
at her tea, but when Sanders entered the room to announce Lord
Ericht, the cup had grown cold.

Ericht? The handsome Scottish earl? She’d
never met the man. She’d seen him before, but they’d never been
introduced. Cordie couldn’t imagine what he was doing here, but she
nodded to her butler. “Show him in, Sanders.  And—um—fresh
tea, if you don’t mind.”

She placed her cup next to Clayworth’s
discarded one and wished again that he’d never left.

“The Earl of Ericht,” Sanders intoned.

Cordie slowly turned to face the man, but
found instead the laughing, soft blue eyes of the Marquess of
Haversham. He winked at her. “Miss Avery, so nice to see ye again,”
he drawled in a fake Scottish accent that was surprisingly well
done.

It was hard not to smile at that. He was
inventive, if nothing else. “Please, Lord
Ericht
, do have a
seat,” she replied, waiting for Sanders to leave them.

When the butler left, Haversham sauntered to
where she sat on the settee and planted himself next to her. A
roguish smile lit up his face. “Sorry for the subterfuge, but I
didn’t think the old man would admit the wicked Marquess of
Haversham,” he explained, as he took one of her hands in his.

The marquess’ lips pressed to her knuckles,
and though it felt rather nice, he didn’t send jolts of heat racing
across her like Clayworth did. Cordie shook her head. She was being
foolish. Lord Haversham was the logical answer to her problems. And
here he was. He’d found a way past her mother’s guard. She should
be ecstatic.

“Are you really wicked?” she asked,
wondering briefly if
he
might tell the terrible thing he’d
one. She rather supposed he wouldn’t.

He ran his hand along her bodice and
grinned. “How badly do you want to know?”

“Well,” she began, moving out of his reach
to pace the room. “I think I should know everything about you, my
lord.”

“Marc,” he prompted.

Weeks ago the idea of calling him that had
sent shivers racing across her, but not now. It was good, she
supposed, that he was still so interested in her. She wanted an
affectionate husband as well as a lenient one, after all. An idea
flashed in her mind. She hadn’t really seen Clayworth differently
until he’d kissed her. What if the same was true for Haversham? It
would be a relief not to pine away for another man her whole life.
She stopped pacing and gifted the marquess with what she hoped was
a seductive smile. “Marc.” She let the name drip off her lips.
“Would you like to kiss me?”

He was at her side in the blink of an eye,
wearing a devilish smile. “And much more,” he promised silkily.

Cordie bit her bottom lip.

Marc tipped her chin up and lowered his
head, but before his lips could touch hers, an ear piercing wail
came from the doorway.  Cordie’s shoulders slumped forward.
Why did her mother have to return
now
?

“Out!” Lady Avery screeched at the top of
her lungs.  “Out!”  Then she raced toward the marquess,
beating him with her reticule. “Get out of my house, you
blackguard!”

Marc raised his brow at Cordie, paying no
attention to the beating he was receiving. “Soon, I will have that
kiss, Miss Avery.” Then he looked down at her mother and growled,
“Take your hands off me.”

Lady Avery winced and backed up immediately.
The sight made Cordie’s heart soar. With Marc to protect her, her
mother would never lay another hand on her.  Kiss or no kiss,
she needed a plan to become the man’s marchioness. Sooner rather
than later.

He tipped his head in farewell and then spun
on his heel, leaving them in his wake.

Fire shooting from her eyes, her mother
wailed, “Cordelia, have you lost your mind?”

“I didn’t invite him here, Mama,” Cordie
tried to explain, not that she wouldn’t have if he hadn’t thought
of it first.

The answer only increased her mother’s
hysteria. “Do you think I want you following in Olivia’s scandalous
footsteps, young lady?”

“Livvie is happy, Mama!” Cordie shot back.
How could her mother, after knowing Livvie her whole life, be so
vile to her now? “And a duchess!  A
duchess
for
heaven’s sake!  They’re not generally denigrated, you
know.”

“They don’t generally behave in such ill
fashion either.”

“You should want as much for me. And
Haversham is a marquess! Loads better than a puffed up naval
captain.”

“Captain Seaton was a decent man,” Lady
Avery’s voice rose even louder as she puffed out her chest.

It had grated on her nerves to see the
captain cater to her mother over the last fortnight, still trying
to get in her good graces. “Gabriel Seaton was a dictatorial prig
and I’m glad he’s gone.”

“Well, I…” her mother began, interrupted by
a loud scraping at the door. 

Then Sanders entered the room, a look of
confusion on the old man’s face. “I’m sorry to interrupt, my lady,
but your sons have returned.”

The air whooshed out of Cordie. Her
brothers
were here? She’d been praying for their safe return
for what felt like a lifetime. The anger drained immediately from
her mother and they exchanged smiles of relief and happy squeals of
joy at the same moment. Lady Avery pushed past Sanders to get to
the doorway, Cordie right behind her.

They didn’t have to go far. Standing in the
hallway were her brothers Russell and Tristan, and behind them a
dear old friend, Major Philip Moore. Both women squealed again.
Russell embraced their mother and Cordie threw herself into
Tristan’s awaiting arms. She hadn’t realized how scared she was
that they wouldn’t return until she felt Tristan’s strong arms hold
her. She had missed them both dreadfully.  After a long
moment, they switched partners and Russell held her tightly.

Thank God they were safe. Thank God they
were home.

“Philip Moore!” Lady Avery finally rushed
towards the major, arms outstretched.  “My dear boy, I can
never thank you enough for keeping Tristan alive.”

Tristan groaned nearby.  “Mother, I
wish you wouldn’t say it like that.”

“Into the parlor, all of you,” her mother
demanded, directing everyone inside the nearest room.  “And,
Sanders, tea, if you will.  Who knows when these boys have had
decent fare.  You’re all too thin, the lot of you.”

Tristan slid his arm around Cordie’s waist.
“You are a sight for sore eyes, sis.”

“Oh, Tris,” she whispered back. “You don’t
know how worried I was. When Russell said you’d been hit—”

Her youngest brother blushed. “He
exaggerates. You know that.”

“Oh, I’m just so glad you’re here.” She
pressed a kiss to his cheek. Tristan was her closest sibling in
age, and he’d always been her favorite brother. Kind hearted and
honest, she’d adored him her entire life.

Their mother hooked her arm with Tristan’s
and steered both her sons into chairs near hers. Cordie settled
next to Philip on the settee and smiled at him. In so many ways he
was like another brother. They’d all grown up together in
Nottinghamshire. “It is good to see you, Philip.  We have been
so worried about all of you.”

“Indeed we have!” Lady Avery seconded. Her
eyes filled with tears as she looked at her youngest son. 
“Tristan, my heart stopped when we got the news you’d been
injured.”

“Mother, it was nothing,” Tris almost
growled.

“Don’t listen to him, Mother,” Russell
interrupted, a mischievous grin on his face. “The battle was
intense. Loud. Sound was everywhere. If it hadn’t been for Philip
knocking Tris to the ground, he’d have taken a ball in the
chest.”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Tris grumbled.

Russell raised his brow, like only an older
and irritating brother can. “All he ended up with was a broken arm.
That time.”

“Thank you, Russell,” Tris replied
fiercely.

Philip gently touched Cordie’s hand, and her
eyes flew to his.  “I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but you were
yelling when we arrived.”

Cordie blanched. She hadn’t realized
everyone heard their argument. That was a bit embarrassing. The
entire room fell silent.

Philip pressed on, “Were you talking about
my
Olivia?”

He didn’t know about Livvie? Cordie wished
the floor would swallow her whole. How did he not know?  No
one had told him? Livvie and Philip had been engaged for years. She
would still be waiting for him if Kelfield hadn’t swept her off her
feet.

“See here,” Russell cut in, leveling her
with his soft green eyes. “I’ll not have
my
sister falling
prey to Marcus Gray.  What was he doing here?”

“I’ll put a ball in his skull if he
returns,” Tristan threatened.

“And a blade in his chest,” Russell
added.

“Charming!” Cordie frowned at her
brothers.  All she needed was their interference. “It’s so
wonderful to see that the two of you are still so civilized after
your stay in the army.”