Compromising the Marquess (6 page)

Sir Percy’s party was the last to arrive. Hal barely noticed Augusta Wantage and her quite disgusting air of self-importance. He spared just a few words for Sir Percy, whom he rather liked. He couldn’t remember what he said to Bethany Elliott, who was a very pretty little thing. His eyes were all for her sister, mainly because he was unable to believe the transformation in her.

Miss Elliott certainly couldn’t lay claim to beauty—her sister left her standing in that respect—but Hal had beautiful women thrown at him everywhere he went. None of them had yet secured his interest in the way this little tease had so effortlessly managed. Leah Elliott’s figure was curvaceous, the hint of breasts he’d detected at their last meeting now obligingly displayed for his lazy perusal. Unlike her sister, who was unable to conceal her nerves, Miss Elliott appeared perfectly at her ease, silver eyes alight with curiosity as she levelled her gaze upon Hal’s face.

“Ah, Leah, there you are!” Flick hugged each of the sisters. “You look wonderful, both of you.”

Both girls dipped curtsies and exclaimed over Flick’s gown.

“Hal,” Flick said, appearing to recall that he was standing, waiting patiently for an introduction. “May I present Miss Elliott and Miss Bethany Elliott, my particular friends. Leah, Beth, this is my beastly brother, the Marquess of Denby.”

As the girls curtsied, Bethany’s eyes were demurely lowered. Not so Leah’s. They had yet to waver from his face, but her gaze was not full of the hope and blind adoration he’d become immune to over the years. Hers was more an expression of curiosity, as though she was trying to record his features to memory. Hal took Leah’s hand and lifted it to his lips. He expected her to simper, blush or let forth with a stream of nervous chatter. Such reactions were normal when he focused his attention on any young lady, but it seemed Miss Elliott was made of sterner stuff. She held his gaze, watching him with unnerving stillness as his lips brushed the back of her gloved hand.

“Miss Elliott,” he said, acknowledging her poise by breaking eye contact first. “My sister has told me much about you.” He turned to her sister and inclined his head. “Miss Bethany. You are both welcome to my house.”

“Come, Leah, I have need of you.” Lady Wantage’s imperious tone quieted the entire room. “Don’t monopolize the marquess,” she said, without lowering her voice. “It’s very bad form.”

Hal watched her walk away, the sway of her slender hips bringing to mind just how snugly they’d fitted into the breeches she’d worn the other night. He shook his head, reminding himself that his only interest in the chit was to discover why she attended mills in a poor disguise as a lad. Absolutely nothing more.

“Our young lad does well as a girl,” Rob said, siding up to Hal and following the direction of his gaze.

“What’s her game, Rob?” Hal took a glass of champagne from the tray a footman proffered and sipped at it. “I’d give a very great deal to know.”

“Might be pleasant trying to find out.”

“Penniless virgins aren’t my usual fare.”

“Needs must, big brother,” Rob said, chuckling. “Needs must.”

“Talk to her sister. See what you can find out about their life before they came to Denby.”

“Looks like I’ve been beaten to it,” he said, nodding towards Bethany Elliott. Gabriel had detached her from the rest of the party and appeared quite taken with her.

“So it does. No matter, slip Gabe the word. I need to know if we’ve let a fox into the henhouse.”

“Will do.”

Hal’s attention was taken up by one of his guests. They spent half an hour in the drawing room, drinking champagne, conducting the type of polite social discourse that bored Hal rigid. Lady Wantage walked about the room, glass in hand, examining everything with a proprietorial air that deeply offended him. She would report every detail, every little change, to his stepmother in a disparaging fashion. Hal didn’t care, he merely objected to the woman herself. As far as he was concerned, she and Lady Denby were cut from the same cloth. Hal continued to observe his nemesis as she mentally catalogued his possessions. Whilst all the other ladies merely sipped at their champagne, Lady Wantage was on her third glass, causing Hal’s derision to increase.

When dinner was announced, Hal didn’t hesitate to proffer his arm to Leah. “Would you do me the honour, Miss Elliott?”

She looked surprised by the request. “Surely you ought to—” She cast a glance at some of the more senior ladies present, her aunt amongst them.

“In my own home I do as I please. If any of my guests find that offensive, I daresay they will not come again.”

“You make it sound as though you wish that were true.” She placed her hand on his sleeve.

“A man in my position can afford to do as he likes.” He matched his pace to hers as they traversed the room, all eyes upon them. “It’s one of the privileges of rank.”

“But surely, with that rank comes responsibility.”

“I am fully aware of my responsibilities.” He shrugged. “I ought to be. I have had them drummed into me since I was in leading strings.”

“It’s difficult for someone like me to understand how onerous that must have been. One sees only the outward signs of wealth and privilege.” Miss Elliott covered her mouth with her free hand. “Forgive me, I speak too freely.”

“Not at all. Your frankness is a pleasant change.”

Flick had organised everyone else, adroitly managing to finish up on Darius Grantley’s arm. Lady Wantage looked ready to commit murder when she found herself seated towards the foot of the table, away from Hal and his brothers, stuck between the old squire and another elderly gentleman who appeared to find much to admire in Augusta Wantage’s bosom.

Hal seated Leah on his right, holding the chair until she had arranged her skirts to her satisfaction.

“Thank you, Lord Denby.”

He bestowed one of his most intimate smiles on her. “The pleasure’s entirely mine.”

“You don’t look especially pleased.”

Hal’s eyebrows shot up. “I admire your backbone, Miss Elliott. Flick is constantly telling me that my habitual expression is fierce, but not many people outside the family have the courage to point that out.”

“Perhaps that’s because I’m not afraid of you,” she said with an arch smile. “Nor do I require your good opinion.”

Then what do you require?
“Tell me what brings you to Denby, Miss Elliott.”

“My sister’s health. We live in Wapping, but I daresay you have no idea where that is.”

“You suppose me ignorant of the geography of my own capital city?” he asked coldly.

“Perhaps you know where it is, rather like one is aware of the existence of Italy, but I cannot imagine you having occasion to venture into such an unfashionable district.”

“You lived close to the river?”

“Yes, in Cinnamon Street.”

“Then you were near to the timber yards I do business with. Perhaps we passed one another in the street.”

“I was not aware that you had connections with the timber trade.”

Hal arched a brow. “Is there any reason you should be?”

“None whatsoever. I was merely making conversation.” She helped herself to a stuffed pigeon breast from the platter in front of her, picked up the correct cutlery and commenced eating. “It would appear strange if we had nothing to say to one another.”

“You’re right, of course.” Hal’s mouth curved. He was enjoying Leah’s irreverent company, a breath of fresh air compared to the sycophantic grovelling he normally had to put up with at such gatherings. “You were telling me about Cinnamon Street.”

She lifted her shoulders, simultaneously declining a second glass of wine from a hovering footman. “There is little to tell. My sister and I grew up there—”

“Pardon the interruption, but your parents?”

“Are both dead.” She spoke the words crisply, discouraging further enquiry. “Beth suffers with a complaint of the lung and her physician recommended sea air. I applied to our uncle for his advice—”

“Your uncle is your guardian?”

“Not since I reached my majority. Technically, I suppose Beth is still his responsibility, but in actuality it’s me who looks out for her.”

“But your uncle still offered you the use of his gatehouse, I collect.”

“Yes, most kindly he did, and thus you find us here.”

“Your sister looks remarkably well this evening.” Hal spared her a brief glance as she conversed avidly with Gabriel, eyes sparkling, her cheeks pink with animation.

Leah followed the direction of Hal’s gaze and smiled fondly. “I rejoice to see such a change in her.”

“Shall you return to Cinnamon Street soon?”

Leah hesitated. “Our plans are not yet formulated. I must be sure that Beth is entirely well before I subject her to another winter of damp river fog.”

“Very wise.”

“I am not prepared to take any chances with my sister’s health,” she said. Hal was surprised by the depth of his reaction to her determination. “She is all I have left in this life,” Leah added, so quietly that he barely heard her.

“Then she is most fortunate.” Hal smiled at his enigmatic dinner companion. “How do you occupy your time here in Denby, Miss Elliott?”

“Oh, I never want for occupation. Mrs. Wilkinson has been kind enough to take us under her wing.”

“How fortunate,” he said drolly.

“We came here to the Hall just a few days ago, actually. She was most anxious to see you but apparently you weren’t here.”

“So Gabriel told me.”

“Mrs. Wilkinson insists that you to do something about the Boar’s Head. She considers that iniquitous behaviour takes place there.”

“Really?” Hal quirked a brow. “And what would she have me do about it?”

“That is a question you ought to put to her.”

“Since you are one of her disciples, perhaps you will have the goodness to enlighten me.”

“She insists there is drunkenness and debauched behaviour. She doesn’t think any respectable woman is safe to walk the streets, even in broad daylight.”

“Mrs. Wilkinson need have no concerns for her own safety.”

Miss Elliott’s lips twitched. “I gather there was a mill there just the other evening.”

“Mrs. Wilkinson told you that?”

“No, but word gets about.”

“It occurs to me that if the men are fighting one another, they will have no energy left to ravage the town’s women.”

“Perhaps, but it would ease Mrs. Wilkinson’s mind to hear it from your own lips.”

“Nothing is likely to ease Mrs. Wilkinson’s mind until we are all living such dull, blameless lives that we are totally miserable.”

“You consider grown men fighting one another to be exciting?”

“Absolutely.” He leaned towards her with studied nonchalance. “Would you not like to see for yourself sometime? Only then can you truly judge.”

“Would you invite your sister to view such a spectacle?” She arched a brow. “How low your opinion of me must be.”

He bowed his head. “Well said, Miss Elliott.” He touched her wrist. “It was a ridiculous suggestion and one for which you are perfectly entitled to take me to task.”

“Apology accepted.” She frowned. “If that’s what it actually was.”

Hal turned, answering a question addressed to him by the lady on his opposite side. He ought to pursue that conversation. He had already spent too long speaking with Miss Elliott.

“How do you occupy your days here, sir?” Leah asked when he returned his attention to her. “Does organizing your lumber business take up a deal of your time?”

“It is one of my many interests.”

“Do you have a ship that transports the timber?”

“Absolutely,” he said. “Why would the lumber warehouses be situated on the river otherwise?”

“Of course.”

Hal could hardly believe that two hours had passed when Felicity stood and the other ladies followed suit. It seemed more like half an hour. On his feet also, Hal helped Leah with her chair. He stood back as she followed the other ladies from the room, unsure if he’d learned anything about her that he didn’t already know. Miss Elliott certainly played her cards close to her chest.

Chapter Six

As Leah left the room, she was glad that Lord Denby could no longer see her face. The way he’d looked at her throughout the meal with such cool amusement had been most unsettling. He was merely countering the boredom he made little effort to disguise by toying with her, simply because he could, that much was obvious. Had he not told her at the outset that he seldom abided by the rules governing society? That was all very well, but she was no man’s plaything and ought to have felt insulted. Instead it took every ounce of ingenuity she possessed not to respond to his compelling charm.

She was of no consequence. No one would take him to task for amusing himself at her expense. Worse though, she was fairly sure he’d recognized her as the lad from the mill. Why else would he have invited her to witness such a lawless spectacle? He ought to have been better mannered than to have mentioned it. It was insulting and she was quite out of charity with the infuriating man.

Miss Bentley brushed past her without apology, looking on the verge of tears. She’d heard it said that his lordship was on the point of declaring for her. That being the case, surely he should have escorted his intended into dinner?

Leah’s head spun as she tried to reason it through. She had now met Lord Denby twice, which was more than sufficient for her to deduce that he was both powerful and formidable. Was she insane, even thinking about delving into his private business? The marquess wasn’t the type of gentleman who would take kindly to interference in his affairs.

She glanced at Beth, walking ahead of her in animated conversation with Felicity, and decided she was perfectly sane. For Beth to have the future she deserved, Leah must ensure there were funds available to make it happen. If, by so doing, she displeased an arrogant aristocrat with lethal good looks, a devastating smile and intelligent eyes that missed little, it was a price she would pay with a smile on her lips.

Beth dropped back and linked her arm through Leah’s.

“You were singularly honoured,” she said.

“But I’m willing to wager that you had a better time of it with Lord Gabriel.”

Beth’s radiant smile was a joy to behold. “He’s very charming and quite put me at my ease.”

“And why should he not? You are by far the most beautiful young lady here.”

Beth laughed. “Rubbish! But still, I’m so glad that the marquess didn’t require me to sit with him. I wouldn’t have known what to say to him. Poor Leah! Was it so very bad?”

“He was amiable enough, I suppose, but I’m glad it’s over.”

“I think Miss Bentley feels slighted.”

“Then she’s a fool. She cannot seriously look upon me as competition.”

“Her mother continues to whisper of a forthcoming announcement. She seems to think it’s quite a settled thing.”

Leah had her doubts about that but since they had now reached the drawing room she kept them to herself. Their aunt joined them, appearing unsteady on her feet.

“Well, miss,” she said, “you were honoured. What did the marquess have to say to you?”

“Lower your voice, aunt,” Leah said, assisting Lady Wantage to a chair. “Everyone can hear you.”

“What’s that to me?” When Leah remained silent, her aunt spoke again. “Was it really necessary to throw yourself at Miss Bentley’s fiancé and make an enemy out of her mama? I have worked so hard to cultivate her good opinion, and you have undone all my good work in one evening.”

“Leah did nothing wrong, aunt,” Beth said stoutly. “She could hardly deny his lordship’s request without offending him. Whom would you rather be on poor terms with?”

“Yes, you’re right, of course.” Aunt Augusta expelled a long sigh. “Just leave the field clear for Miss Bentley for the rest of the evening.”

Before Leah could answer, Felicity came to the rescue by pouring tea and asking Leah to hand the cups round.

“Sorry,” Leah mouthed, nodding towards her aunt, who appeared to be falling asleep.

“Don’t give it another thought.” Felicity touched Leah’s hand. “We cannot help our relatives.”

“No.” Leah rolled her eyes. “That’s certainly true.”

The gentlemen joined the ladies a short time later and music was suggested. Leah was glad. It meant she could take a seat at the back of the room and become invisible. It was the best way to garner information, watching people when they were unaware they were being observed.

Miss Bentley almost tripped over her skirts in her rush to reach the instrument. Her performance was polished. Leah couldn’t fault it, yet it gave her little pleasure. There was no passion in the execution and she found her mind wandering. The room was over-hot, the door to the terrace open directly behind her. On a whim Leah slipped through it. Everyone’s attention was on the pianist and she was convinced no one saw her leave.

Alone on the terrace, Leah raised her arms above her head and let out a slow breath of relief. She really was the most unsocial creature on God’s earth. Everyone else appeared delighted with the evening’s entertainment but, having been treated to almost two hours of Lord Denby’s exclusive attention, everything now felt flat. Besides, she was still curious about all the security in the grounds. Perhaps she could discover a little more about the reason for it whilst everyone else was attending to the music.

With that plan in mind she rounded the side of the terrace, peering into the semidarkness. The lawns sloped towards a large lake. On the other side of that, open woodland led to the edge of the estate. It was on the periphery of those woods that Leah had seen men patrolling with rifles over their shoulders. She squinted, thinking she detected movement, but it was now almost full dark and she couldn’t be sure. She sighed, wondering what she’d realistically expected to accomplish. It was natural enough in these unsettled times for the marquess to protect his family in any way he saw fit. There was nothing sinister about that. Besides, even if she could accost one of the men, she could hardly ask him what precisely he’d been appointed to protect.

“You’re being ridiculous,” she said aloud.

“In what respect?”

Leah almost jumped out of her skin. She hadn’t heard anyone approaching. She turned, a hand pressed against her chest as her heartbeat slowly returned to normal, and confronted Lord Denby.

“I didn’t know anyone else was out here,” she said, avoiding his question.

“Evidently.”

He said nothing more as he stood beside her—too close, surely?—and followed the direction of her gaze. Presumably he assumed she would find the silence unsettling, demonstrating just how little he knew her. In her capacity as a newspaperwoman she had learned to make silences work for her. The less she said, the more people felt compelled to confide in her. Since she did not desire Lord Denby’s confidence, she strolled away from him, moving farther along the terrace. He followed her.

“If you tell me what it is that you seek, I shall be glad to direct you.”

“Why do you suppose I seek anything?”

“Why do you always answer a question with another question?”

“I have an enquiring mind.”

He chortled. “So it would appear.”

“Should you not be listening to your guests perform?”

“Music bores me, unless it’s played with passion, from the soul.”

She blinked up at him. It was as though he’d read her own thoughts in that respect before she escaped the drawing room. “And yet the young ladies who have performed appear determined to impress you. Especially Miss Bentley. She will be devastated by your incivility.”

“I daresay she’ll get over it.” He lifted his shoulders, as though he didn’t much care if she did not. “Shall you play for us, Miss Elliott? That performance, I can promise you, I shall attend to with great diligence.”

“Unfortunately I don’t play.”

“Ah, alas!”

Leah gazed up at the sky. Darkness had fallen whilst they shot verbal arrows at one another. Stars dotted the velvety sky, seemingly close enough to touch. Leah would never tire of looking at them. She felt at peace in such moments, even with the large, unsettling presence of a marquess on the prowl at her side.

“No wonder poets take their inspiration from the galaxy,” she said softly.

“Looking at the sky puts you in a philosophical frame of mind?”

“Always. My mother loved the stars. She taught Beth and me to recognize the constellations. That is the Bear
over there,” she said, pointing to her left. “And I believe that might be Cassiopeia, Andromeda’s mother.”

“Cassiopeia appears in November. I think that is most likely Circini that you can see.”

“Perhaps, but I wish it to be Cassiopeia,” she said, a hint of impatience in her tone. “Must we always be so precise about everything? Can we not pretend? Where’s the harm in that?”

His hand brushed her back. “We can do anything your heart desires.”

Her breath caught in her throat and it was a moment before she spoke again. “Do you believe it’s possible to die from a broken heart?” she asked, her back still turned towards him.

“The poets would have you think so.” His breath peppered her neck as he spoke quietly in her ear. “Why do you ask?”

She let out a soft sigh. “I sometimes think that’s what happened to my mother. My father died and she simply lost the will to live. She couldn’t exist without him, you see, and had no desire to even try.”

“You are a romantic, Miss Elliott?”

“I am a realist, Lord Denby.” She finally turned to face him, only to discover he was a lot closer than she’d realised, looming over her, as lithe and dangerous as a predatory cat. He trapped her against the balustrade by placing one hand on either side of her body.

“You believe in the power of the stars, you think your mother died of a broken heart and yet call yourself a realist.” He mocked her with his eyes. “How can that be?”

“I love the solar system, I
know
my mother’s heart was broken and yet I
am
a realist. I shall never marry, you see, or fall victim to any power that cedes control over my heart to another.”

He laughed aloud. “Don’t all young ladies dream of being swept off their feet?”

“Not this one. I’ve seen the sorts of lives those ladies finish up living, once the gloss wears off.”

“So cynical,” he said softly.

“I have lived all of my life in an unfashionable district of London, Lord Denby, and am qualified to know what I talk about. I see for myself, every day, the consequences of unguarded passion.”

The glint in his eye made Leah wonder if he planned to contest that assertion. Part of her hoped that he would—all in the name of research, naturally. The sensible side of her character caused her to recoil. Well-bred girls simply did not linger with aristocrats on deserted terraces. But since when had Leah given two figs for propriety? Even so, she ought to object and, indeed, she would have done, had her limbs not frozen in place.

“Are you saying that nothing, or no one, could persuade you to fall in love?” he asked in a wickedly seductive purr. “Think carefully before you answer me. A lot of men might take a response in the affirmative as a direct challenge.”

“I’m not afraid of you,” she said, her voice coming out in a breathless whisper.

“Then you’re a fool. I’m a very dangerous man. Hasn’t your friend Mrs. Wilkinson made you appreciate at least that much?”

“Mrs. Wilkinson would not go that far.”

“Perhaps not, but how far do you suppose I would go to prove a point?”

He lowered his head and, with agonizing slowness, his lips covered hers. Leah was mesmerized. In the dim recesses of her mind she knew she ought to object but a fine tremor in the pit of her stomach caused that fleeting resolve to flee. She was here to gain knowledge of this man. Perhaps she was about to achieve that objective a little more comprehensively than she’d imagined. His tongue tickled the corner of her lips in a teasing dance that melted her resolve and yet brought her to her senses. She pulled away from him, almost but not quite in control of herself, and offered him a brittle smile.

“Not good enough, my lord. You will have to improve your technique if you hope to make an impression upon me.”

He threw back his head and laughed—a deep rumbling sound that started in his belly and echoed through his entire body.

“Be very careful, little Leah,” he said. “Such talk can only land you in trouble.”

“I don’t see how.”

“That, precisely, is my point.” He turned away from her. “The best place to see the stars is from the deck of a boat at night.”

“Perhaps, but I don’t have a boat.”

“I do.” He paused. “I also have need of a cabin boy.”

Oh hell, so he really did know who she was.
“Then you ought to advertise.”

“I have very specific tastes. I doubt that anyone answering the advertisement would suit my exacting requirements.”

“Then I fear the position will go unfilled, my lord.”

“That depends upon whether or not the right candidate has the courage of his convictions.”

“I doubt that a mere cabin boy would have the courage to express himself in the presence of such a great man as yourself.”

He chuckled. “Do I detect sarcasm in your tone?”

She flashed a brief smile but said nothing.

“If the lad who I met the other day were to return late tomorrow afternoon, he would have the opportunity to observe the stars and,” he added, drilling her with an intense gaze, “forget the dictates of society and be himself.”

“Whatever do you mean?” she asked, knowing perfectly well.

“It’s sometimes easier to commune with our true feelings when we’re playing a part.”

A flash of movement in the garden caught her attention. “What was that?” she asked, glad of an excuse to change the subject.

“It’s one of my men wanting a word with me.” The flirtatiousness left him and he seemed distracted. His jaw tightened and a hard glint replaced the laughter in his eyes.

“Why do you have so many men patrolling the grounds?”

“To protect my family,” he said curtly.

“Do they need to be so closely guarded?”

“Your Mrs. Wilkinson would have it that we live in dangerous times.”

“But you don’t take her allegations seriously.”