Brushed by Scandal (20 page)

And you are now and for ever in my heart.

The sentiment came unbidden, and Barrington stood motionless, the realisation having caught him totally unawares.
He was in love with her.
He had no idea when it had happened. All he knew was that he wanted to pull her into his arms and whisper a thousand secret longings in her ear. To take her to his bed and make love to her until they were both weak and trembling. To obliterate every thought from her mind that didn’t involve him.

But he couldn’t do any of those things because nothing had really changed. Anna was still who she was and he was still who he was. Their situations hadn’t altered. Only the way he thought of her.

‘Parker! A word in private, if you don’t mind.’

The crisp, imperious voice had Barrington turning around in surprise. ‘Good evening, Colonel.’ Curious. Tanner never spoke to him when other people were around. He wondered what could have prompted the change. ‘I was just finishing
speaking to Lady Annabelle.’ He turned back and bowed over her hand. ‘Would you excuse me?’

‘Of course. But we will speak again soon?’

He saw the glimmer of hope in her eyes and felt it echoed within his heart, though for entirely different reasons. ‘You may be sure of it.’

She departed in a whisper of silk, the sweet scent of gardenias lingering in the air. Barrington didn’t follow her progress across the room because he knew better than to display an interest in her here, where all the world could see. But he felt her absence keenly. ‘You wished to speak to me, Colonel?’

‘Damn right I wished to speak to you. I want to know if you’ve found Elizabeth!’

‘I have, but I fear you will not be happy with what I am about to tell you.’

‘Why not?’

‘Because it turns out that Miss Paisley has come under someone else’s protection.’

‘The devil you say!’ The Colonel’s bushy white eyebrows drew together. ‘You mean…she’s left me?’

‘I’m afraid so,’ Barrington replied gently.

‘But why? I gave her everything she asked for: gowns, trinkets, pretty ribbons for her hair.’

‘Can you think of any other reason she might have left?’

The Colonel’s cheeks coloured. ‘I never asked her to do anything disrespectful, if that’s what you’re suggesting. Wouldn’t consider such a thing.’

Barrington studied the face of the man before him and felt a genuine stab of pity. Tanner obviously had feelings of affection for Miss Paisley, but if
she
didn’t care about him in return…

‘I have no answers as to why she left, Colonel,’ he said quietly. ‘I can only tell you that she did.’

‘Who is he?’

‘I’d rather not say.’

‘Why not? That’s why I engaged you, isn’t it?’ Tanner said gruffly.

‘No, you engaged me to find out where Miss Paisley was and if she was safe. That’s what I’ve done. There’s really no value in my telling you anything more than that.’ Besides, he would no doubt find out soon enough on his own, Barrington reflected. The movement of mistresses between society gentlemen was not a closely guarded secret.

The Colonel knew it, too. He gazed across the room, disappointment evident on his face. ‘So you don’t think she will come back?’

‘I have no reason to believe she will, no.’

The older man nodded. ‘Right. Well then, I suppose that’s an end to it. At least I know she’s all right.’ He cleared his throat, rocked back and forth on the balls of his feet. ‘Appreciate you taking it on, Parker.’

‘I’m sorry the news wasn’t better, Colonel.’

Tanner nodded, but walked away before Barrington had a chance to say anything more. It was clear that Miss Paisley’s defection had hurt him and Barrington was again moved to wonder what had prompted her to leave. The Colonel had taken her off the streets and given her a place to live, paid for the clothes on her back and made sure there was food on her table—yet she had still walked away.

Why? What prompted a woman like that to leave a man who had been so good to her? The arrival of a wealthier lover? One with a loftier title? Surely that could be of no consequence to a woman like Elizabeth Paisley. She was a lady’s maid turned prostitute, not a blushing débutante looking for a husband. And while Hayle was certainly the younger man, Barrington doubted he would have given her more in the way of jewels or clothes than the Colonel. It was quite possible he’d given her less, believing that mistresses were twenty to
the dozen. Tanner, being older and wiser, knew more about life and love…

Love.
Oh, dear God, surely that wasn’t what had lured Elizabeth Paisley away? The misplaced belief that Hayle might offer her more than just a bed? That he had genuine feelings for her?

As unlikely as it seemed, Barrington knew it wasn’t an impossibility. If Miss Paisley had any degree of education, she would know more of the world than the hardened doxies who made their livings on the streets and might well believe that such things happened. According to Tanner, she
had
come from a decent family, only to fall on hard times when her parents had died. She had tried making a living as a lady’s maid, but had fallen victim, as so many women did, to the wandering hands of the master and, without the references necessary to obtain another post, had ended up on the streets.

Yes, it was entirely possible that Eliza’s move had been prompted by unattainable dreams, Barrington reflected sadly. He’d rather think it was that than something more disturbing. Something that bordered on the devious. Something that was in all ways far less admirable.

* * *

Anna stood by the edge of the dance floor and listened to the lilting strains of a waltz. The dance was far less scandalous than when it had first made its appearance in the ballrooms of society, but it was still one of the few that could raise eyebrows. Gentlemen sometimes moved a little too close and, if a mother’s watchful eye was turned, a hand might draw a slender waist nearer or hold a lady’s hand tighter than was acceptable.

Anna had spent a good deal of time watching the actions of couples on the floor. While it was not advisable for single girls to dance the waltz, there were always those who did and
who had required Anna’s services not long after. Tonight, however, her thoughts were not on the dancers, but on the situation with her father and her brother, and even more so with the uncomfortable predicament in which she found herself with Barrington.

She knew that by asking him to give the necklace back to Julia, she was asking him to do something that went against his principles, but she was so afraid for her father’s reputation that it was more than she could do to withdraw the request. But what damage had it done to her relationship with Barrington? It felt as though they had not been easy with one another for an age. And though she knew they would not have a future together, why, oh, why couldn’t she just put him from her mind altogether? This constant thinking about him was wearing her down. Why couldn’t she just accept that he was beyond her reach and move on?

Because you want to be the one, whispered the voice inside her head. The woman he turns to in the darkness of the night. The one who smoothes the lines of worry from his brow, and who makes him forget everything but the sweetness of the moment…

‘Anna, where have you been?’ Lydia said, coming up to her. ‘I’ve been looking for you all evening!’

‘Why?’ Anna said, lingering in dreams. ‘Is something wrong?’

‘I’ve just heard the most dreadful thing.’ Lydia glanced around, lowered her voice. ‘About your father.’

The dreams vanished, destroyed in the rush of returning reality. ‘Tell me!’

‘Not here.’ Taking her arm, Lydia led Anna to a far corner of the room. When she was sure they were beyond anyone’s hearing, she said, ‘There’s a rumour going around that—’ she broke off, blushing furiously. ‘Oh dear, this isn’t at all easy.’

‘Please, Lydia. I must know!’

‘Yes, of course you must. It’s just that…I can’t believe he would do something like this.’

‘He?’

‘Mr Rand.’

‘Peregrine?’ Anna frowned in confusion. ‘I thought you said you’d heard something about my father?’

‘I have.’ Lydia took a deep breath and said, ‘Apparently, someone overheard Mr Rand say that…he’d found the baroness’s necklace amongst your father’s things.’

‘What?’
Anna didn’t realise how loud she’d spoken until she saw heads begin to turn in their direction. Quickly forcing a smile, she waited for them to look away again before leaning in closer to Lydia. ‘There must be some mistake. Peregrine thinks the world of my father. He would
never
do something like this.’

‘That’s what I thought, too, but I’m just repeating what I heard. And there’s more,’ Lydia said unhappily. ‘Rumour has it that your brother’s debts have been paid off and people are wondering where the money came from.’

Anna’s first thought was that they had not acted quickly enough. Her second was to wonder how to stem the damage before matters got any worse. ‘Who started the rumour?’

‘No one seems to know. But it isn’t a secret that your father and brother were having trouble meeting their debts. So when word leaked out that the baroness’s necklace had been stolen and that she and your father were…well, involved, it was suggested that your father might have seen an easy way out of his financial difficulties. Then when Mr Rand said he’d found the necklace in your father’s things, followed by word of your brother’s debts being cleared, it only added fuel to the fire.’ She broke off, sick at heart. ‘I’m so sorry, Anna, but I thought you should know.’

Anna muttered something unrepeatable, apologised to
Lydia, then quickly left the room. She was seldom moved to profanity, but what else could she say when matters kept going so terribly wrong? Peregrine had been discovered in an illicit affair with Lady Yew. Everyone seemed to know that her father and brother were mired in debt. And now rumours were flying that her father was a thief and that a member of his own family had given him up.

It was enough to make a saint turn to the devil!

But even as anger and disbelief swelled at the thought of Peregrine having betrayed her father’s secret, common sense told her it couldn’t be true. Peregrine would
never
reveal what he had seen. She had been there with him the day he’d found the necklace. She had seen the anguish on his face and known that he’d suffered over that discovery as much as she had.

No, Peregrine wasn’t the one who’d started the rumour. Barrington was right; the person who wished her father harm was definitely the one behind all this. The lie was just one more piece in a carefully devised plot to incriminate her father, and whoever had laid the groundwork for this unspeakable crime had done their job well. Her father’s reputation couldn’t
hope
to survive a constant barrage of rumours and innuendos. He would be destroyed, given the cut direct by those who mattered in society. Even those who might have the courage to defend him risked being cut, and those who believed him guilty would never speak to him again. But there had to be a way of finding out who it was and of exposing him for what he’d done.

Anna thought back over everything Barrington had said…. a maid in the baroness’s house…gone in to check on her mistress…saw him take the necklace…

So, a maid had seen her father take the necklace. Which maid? The same one Anna had seen kissing her brother in the darkness of the deserted study? A very pretty maid
who’d left the baroness’s employ shortly after the necklace disappeared—

Anna gasped. Was it possible? She’d seen Edward and the maid together
before
the necklace had disappeared. Then the maid had left and a few days later Anna had discovered that Edward had acquired a new mistress. She’d overheard him talking to one of his friends about a girl named Eliza.

Coincidence—or something more calculated?

* * *

Unlike many of his friends, Edward didn’t keep his mistresses close at hand. He preferred to put them up in a house on a quiet street south of Regent’s Park. Fortunately, Anna had stumbled upon the address one day whilst cleaning out a desk drawer and committed it to memory.

Now, as she stepped out of the carriage onto what was a clearly less than affluent street, she was glad she’d thought to do so. She scanned the row of plates and found Number Nineteen second to last in the row—an unprepossessing brick townhouse with dark shutters and blackened chimney pots.

Paying the driver a guinea to wait, Anna took a deep breath and started towards the door. Her heart was pounding and though part of her wanted to turn around and get back in the cab, curiosity and a need to discover the truth drove her forwards. She raised her hand to the knocker and brought it down sharply, three times.

An older woman wearing a white apron over a stiff black gown opened the door. Her face was hard and unforgiving as she stared down at her caller. ‘Yes?’

‘Is Miss Smith in?’ Anna enquired.

Watching the woman run a critical eye over her appearance, Anna was glad she’d thought to wear the clothes she had. Dressed in a plain gown and pelisse in a nondescript shade of brown, a straw bonnet the style of which was a few years out of date, and leather gloves that were far from new,
she resembled nothing so much as a governess or a servant, an assessment clearly shared by the housekeeper. ‘What would you be wanting with Eliza?’

‘I’d like to talk to her, if I may. We used to work together at Baroness von Brohm’s and I was wondering—’

‘Justine, is that you?’ a voice floated down from the landing. ‘How did you get—oh!’

Eliza Smith was halfway down the stairs before she realised that her visitor wasn’t who she thought. Her pretty face fell and her smile disappeared. But when she looked at Anna again and recognition dawned, her expression of disappointment changed to one of fear. With a muffled cry, she bolted back up the stairs.

‘Miss Smith, wait!’ Anna cried. ‘I need to talk to you!’ She went to move past the housekeeper, but found her way blocked. ‘Kindly step aside.’

‘I don’t think the girl wants to see you,’ the woman said.

‘Well, I’d like to see her,’ Anna said. ‘If you’ll just let me through…’