A Scandalous Past (Regency Romance, Book 4) (19 page)

“It’s all in your eyes,” Clayworth answered
her unasked question. “They sparkle with life when you’re truly
happy. What’s troubling you, Cordelia?”

She shook her head. “You wouldn’t
understand.”

“You’ve said that before. Explain it to me,
and I’ll try my hardest.”

What could she possibly say to him?
I
want to accept your proposal, but I’m afraid.
That wouldn’t do.
“I’m in a quandary, my lord,” she finally said. “I don’t even
understand it myself. So I have no idea how to explain it to
you.”

He frowned at that, but said nothing else.
Clayworth continued to lead her around the room, never pulling her
closer than was proper. Never moving his hand along her back. Never
whispering scandalous suggestions in her ear. And still she wanted
him more than ever. The more time she spent with him, the more she
wanted to be with him.

He was dangerous to her plans.

As the waltz came to an end, Clayworth
wasted no time, and led her out onto a balcony away from the prying
eyes of the
ton
.

Brendan wanted just a bit of privacy. 
Something was going on in Cordelia’s head, and he’d never get a
straight answer out of her with an audience. It would be hard
enough with just the two of them. He’d never met a woman who was so
evasive in his entire life. Marina had always ranted and raved,
hollering at the top of her lungs. Her motives and thoughts had
never been a secret.

He directed her to an area of the balcony,
hidden in the shadows. The perfect place for a lovers’ tryst. While
that would have been a nice distraction and his body hungered for
it, she was already skittish and he couldn’t risk her bolting at
the moment.

“Why did you bring me out here, my lord?”
she asked, her green eyes reflecting the moon above.

“There are too many ears in there,” he
replied evenly.  “And I wanted to talk to you.”

“Talk?” She sounded suspicious.

“Cordie?” Lieutenant Avery’s voice came from
the entry to ballroom. “Are you out here?”

“Here, Tristan,” she said, stepping away
from Brendan. “Lord Clayworth was allowing me a breath of fresh
air.”

The lieutenant grunted. “Honorable
intentions or not, Clayworth, I do wish you wouldn’t put my
sister’s reputation in jeopardy.”

“Oh, for heaven’s sake, Tris!” she
whispered.

But he was right. Brendan sighed. “Of
course, Lieutenant, my apologies.” He walked to where Cordelia
stood. She was glaring at her brother and Brendan bit back a smile.
She was so full of life. He absolutely adored her. “Miss Avery,” he
said, offering her his arm.

For the first time ever, she took his arm
without pause, and Brendan’s heart expanded in his chest. If he
could only get her to agree to his proposal as easily.

“We were just talking, Tris,” she said
tartly.

The lieutenant winked at his sister. “Well,
you can just
talk
in there, with everyone’s eyes on
you.”

If her brothers had returned from France
just a few weeks earlier, he would never have put himself in the
position to protect her. He’d have never gotten close to her. He
would never have fallen for her independent spirit and youthful
naïveté. He would never have lost his heart to her. “He’s right,
Cordelia,” Brendan whispered.

She tugged on his arm and pulled him back
through the doors, past her brother into the light of the ballroom.
“It’s not enough I have
her
watching my every move. Now I’ve
got those two hovering like vultures,” she muttered under her
breath.

Brendan touched her chin and tipped her head
back, so she had to look at him. “He’s doing his duty as your
brother. I might very well have ravished you back there.”

She rolled her green eyes. “You are all that
is proper, my lord. I’m certain you would never consider doing
that
.”

Only every night since he’d met her. “Don’t
be so sure,” he replied quietly, still gazing into her eyes.

“Cordie!” came a girlish squeal from behind
them.

She let go of his arm, turned around, and
embraced a raven-haired chit. The same girl from the park, if
Brendan wasn’t mistaken. Miss Greywood.

“Phoebe!” Cordelia gushed. “I didn’t know
you’d returned to Town.”

“How are you?” Miss Greywood asked, with
more feeling than Brendan could understand. The intensity of the
girl’s stare sent chills down his spine, as if there was a deeper,
more sinister meaning in her words.

Cordelia blushed slightly and shook her
head. “I’m fine. Really.”

Something was going on. The two girls looked
at each other, conversing silently with only their eyes, and
Brendan wished to hell he knew what it was. After he convinced
Cordelia to marry him, he’d sit her down and have a long talk about
her proclivity of keeping secrets. Though to be honest, he did have
a few of his own, didn’t he? Of course, after they were married, he
wouldn’t need to keep those secrets from her. The Averys would give
him his mother’s letters and there would be nothing left to
hide.

Above Cordelia’s head, Brendan spotted
Lieutenant Avery looking sheepish. Poor fellow, he was simply doing
his duty by his sister. Brendan nodded at him. In the lieutenant’s
shoes he’d do the same, or should have done it better with Flora
all those years ago. The officer started towards their small
group.

“Tristan,” Cordelia said coolly, eyeing him
up and down.

“Cor,” he said softly.

She turned her attention back to Miss
Greywood. “Phoebe, you’ve never met my brother, have you?”

The girl shook her head, her pretty black
curls bounced against her alabaster shoulders.

“Phoebe Greywood, my brother, Lieutenant
Tristan Avery,” Cordelia introduced, gesturing from one to the
other.

“A pleasure, Miss Greywood,” the lieutenant
offered with a bow.

Miss Greywood giggled. “Lieutenant, I’ve
heard so much about you. How nice to finally meet you.”

The officer groaned and glanced at his
sister. “I’m certain I’m much nicer than whatever she said.”

Miss Greywood giggled again. She had a
pleasant laugh, if one liked giggly girls. It was apparent,
however, that Lieutenant Avery did not and he frowned just a
bit.

Their small group increased by one when
Captain Avery joined them, draping an arm over the lieutenant’s
shoulder. “Keeping Cordie out of trouble, Tris?”

“Trying,” the younger officer admitted.

Miss Greywood’s giggle evaporated as she
stared at the army captain, and her blue eyes sparkled with
wonder.

“Very amusing, Russell.” Cordelia leveled
the captain with her most haughty look. “Phoebe, this is
unfortunately another brother of mine—Captain Russell Avery.
Russell, this is my very good friend, Miss Greywood. Do try to be
your most charming.”

The captain took Miss Greywood’s hand and
pressed a kiss to her gloved knuckles. “I’m always charming.”

“Or so he believes,” Cordelia muttered so
quietly only Brendan could hear.

“Oh, dear!” Phoebe Greywood squeaked.

“What is it?” Cordelia asked, stepping
towards her friend. Phoebe whispered something in Cordelia’s ear,
then both girls straightened. 

“It’ll just take a needle and thread,
Phoeb,” Cordelia offered with a smile, not a genuine one. She then
turned to her brothers, her pretty green eyes narrowed to slits.
“We’re going to mend a torn flounce in the retiring room, in case
one of you wants to stand guard.”

The captain shook his head, oblivious to her
irritation or immune to it. “I’m certain you can handle that all on
your own.”

The two girls took off, vanishing through
the doorway. In the pit of Brendan’s stomach, he felt something
wasn’t quite right. He glanced at the two officers who groused
about their forced attendance at this particular event. Neither of
them seemed concerned about Cordelia at the moment. Was he
overreacting again, like when he sprinted through Mayfair only to
find her safely in the company of her family? Most likely.  He
was
losing his mind.

***

“What is it, Phoebe?” Cordie asked as soon
as they were out of the ballroom.

Phoebe grabbed her hand, pulled her down the
corridor and around a corner, finally stopping in front of a quiet
salon. “Lord Haversham,” she whispered. “I bumped into him when I
arrived tonight. He wants to see you.”

Cordie sucked in a breath. The marquess was
here? “Where?”

Phoebe’s eyes shot to the doors of the
salon. “I promised I’d bring you. Are you still sure about this?”
She looked back towards the ballroom. “Lord Clayworth seems
so…”

“I’m sure,” Cordie assured her, though she
wasn’t quite convinced herself. She had made this decision,
however, when her mind was clear. It had to be the right course.
After all, her mind was much more rational than her heart. The
marquess represented everything she wanted in life. She needed to
keep the ultimate goal in mind.

Phoebe frowned.

“Phoeb,” she said quietly, “if my brothers
see you, they’ll wonder where I am. Can you hide out in the library
or something until I find you?”

Her friend nodded. “But don’t take too long.
I would like to dance tonight.”

“Of course,” Cordie answered with a
smile.

Phoebe blushed. “And your brother—Captain
Avery, is he…?”

“Unspoken for,” Cordie finished. “I’ll see
what I can do.”

Phoebe pushed her towards the parlor door.
“Do hurry then.”

Cordie pushed the door open and stepped
inside. Haversham leaned against the side wall with a generous
amount of whiskey in his glass. When his light blue eyes fell on
her, a roguish smile lit up his face.

“I was starting to lose my patience, angel,”
he drawled placing his glass on the mantle and pushing himself away
from the wall.

Cordie shut the door behind her and started
toward the marquess. “I couldn’t let anyone note my absence, my
lord.”

“Marc,” he reminded her.

“Marc,” she echoed softly, closing the gap
between them.

He touched her cheek and smiled. “So there
is the little matter of our deal, Cordelia.”

“A kiss,” she replied. “But not here. There
are too many people about.” Clayworth, in particular. It would be
terribly difficult to kiss the marquess knowing the earl was so
close. She didn’t know if she could do it. Distance was a
necessity.

His smile deepened and he ran his fingers
along the column of her neck. “My thoughts exactly. We’ll need to
go somewhere else.”

“Somewhere else?” Cordie blinked at him.
“But my family, my brothers are in the other room. I can’t leave
now.”

“Your brothers.” Marc frowned. “Did you know
Captain Avery threatened me?”

“Russell
threatened
you?” Her voice
rose an octave. The interfering, overprotective lout!

“He said he’d call me out if I came near you
again, but I can’t seem to help myself.”

How dare Russell think he could take control
of her life in such a manner? She was perfectly capable of making
her own decisions. How was she going to get Haversham to propose if
he wasn’t allowed near her? Not that she was allowed near him, but
that was another matter altogether. Russell could cost her the only
chance she had at becoming the Marchioness of Haversham. Blast
him!

“Where do you want to take me?” she asked,
her mind made up.

“Somewhere quiet.” His gravelly voice washed
over her. “Somewhere we can be alone.”

How long could it take to repair a bloody
flounce? Brendan kept his eyes glued to the entryway, his unease
growing with every minute that passed. He shook his head. He was
being ridiculous. What sort of trouble could she have gotten
herself into?

Viscount Brookfield strode through the door,
wearing a rather threadbare jacket and a desperate look. Brendan’s
wariness doubled. Cordelia couldn’t be alone with Brookfield about.
Who knew what he was capable of? Brendan doubted Phoebe Greywood
could hold off the fortune-hunter.

“You’re making a mistake,” the lieutenant
warned his brother. “That chit’s giggle is enough to make one jump
off the cliffs of Dover.”

The captain chuckled. “She seemed delightful
to me.”

Brendan cleared his throat, garnering both
officers’ attention. “Your sister has been gone quite a while.”

Lieutenant Avery smirked at him. “Watch it,
Clayworth, you’re in danger of revealing your hand where Cordie’s
concerned.”

“She’s awful with a needle and thread,” the
captain added. “Consider yourself warned, though you didn’t hear
that from me.”

“I have a bad feeling,” Brendan admitted,
certain the two fellows would think he’d lost his mind.

Captain Avery sighed. “Very well, Clayworth,
if it will make you feel better I’ll track her down.” Then he added
as an afterthought, “And the pretty Miss Greywood.”

The lieutenant rolled his eyes. “It should
be quite the campaign for you to locate the retiring room, Russell.
Good luck with your endeavors.” He then turned his attention back
to the dancers just a few feet away, grumbling something about
stupid societal affairs.

Brendan watched the captain leave the room
and took a calming breath. He was being foolish. He knew he was. He
just couldn’t shake the uncomfortable feeling that something was
wrong. He considered going after the captain, but figured the
officer had the situation under control. The man was Cordelia’s
brother, and at the moment Brendan didn’t have any claim to
her.

It felt like a lifetime before Captain Avery
re-entered the ballroom, his face ashen white. Brendan and
Lieutenant Avery noticed him at the same moment and quickly crossed
the room.