Lady Libertine (5 page)

‘Apologize and leave would seem to be the obvious answer,’ Lucy muttered, shaking the dress out. How fortunate that it had absorbed most of the wine, thus avoiding any mess on the floor. She knew she would have to leave. There was simply too much wine on too much dress to be able to wash it out. Furthermore, some of it had gone down the bodice and her breasts felt decidedly cold and damp.

‘I’m sorry. Naturally, I am. But you did come around that corner rather fast...’

Oh no! He was not blaming this on her. ‘You were not looking where you were going and you ran into me,’ she snapped back, pulling at the soggy material around her neckline.

His eyes followed the movement of her fingers for a moment before jerking back up to meet her own. His mouth tightened. ‘I… yes, all right, I was not looking where I was going.’

‘Perhaps you were preoccupied with other things,’ Lucy observed waspishly, then immediately regretted the words. It would never do for her to show that she knew what he had been up to, but he didn’t seem to notice.

‘Once again, I am deeply sorry. Can I… have my carriage take you home?’

‘No, thank you. I can take myself home, but you can excuse me to your sister. I will send a note tomorrow, of course, but tell her I had to leave.’

‘But I really must...’

‘No,’ Lucy said flatly, ‘I am cold and wet and I do not want to discuss it any further. Good
night
my lord.’

And stepping round him, she hurried towards her original destination. There wasn’t a great deal she could do about her dress, but at least she could soak up some of the discomfort. Her chest felt as if it were squelching and chests were not supposed to feel that way.

Damn Hamersley and his clumsy hands! He had probably been trying to escape from some enraged fellow who had discovered the earl being indiscreet with his betrothed. Perhaps Gatton had turned up. She hadn’t heard any screaming, but Hamersley had certainly been moving fast.

Lucy paused before the mirror in the retiring room and sighed. The white lace bows around the neck of her gown were now stained pink. If it were not ruined, it would certainly be difficult to restore to its former glory.

What a wretched man the earl was. He hadn’t looked in the least bit sorry, either. It quite made up Lucy’s mind about her next column. She had been going to omit any mention of a second tryst between Hamersley and Lady Caroline because this was Julia Challender’s party, but clearly the man needed a set down.

And, at least indirectly, she was just the person to give it to him.

Let him harrumph his way out of that!

Chapter Three

‘You did it again? Really? Are you insane?’

At least, Rand decided wearily, he was out of bed this time. It did not make his brother-in-law any the less annoying, but he’d had some sleep and was better able to deal with idiots.

If it
was
Edward that was the idiot this time; Rand was nonplussed to find himself in hot water again. It was almost… déjà vu.

‘How the hell did she know I was with Caroline?’ he demanded, staring at the paper that Edward had helpfully brought around yet again.

‘I think the question is, why the hell were you with her. Gatton is...’

Rand whipped up a hand to silence whatever was to come. ‘I do
not
want to know what he is!’

‘I was going to say that he is away for a few days. Hopefully, by the time he returns, things will have settled down.’

Rand looked at the newspaper column with loathing. How could anybody infer so much while saying so little? He could pretend that it had not been him and Lady Caroline, but anybody who knew them would know differently. ‘Obviously she was at Julia’s party. Perhaps I can track her down.’

‘There were over two hundred guests. I doubt it.’ Edward sat down and looked at his host. He had heard about this new mention in the Lady Libertine column from his wife. Naturally, she’d thought it was extremely funny. Edward did not, but then, he had never been a fan of scandal.

Rand blew out a breath. The hunting lodge was looking more and more appealing, but, while disappearing for a few weeks might be a sensible idea, this fresh assault on his privacy was so infuriating that he could not simply let it go. What was the world coming to when snoops took it upon themselves to stick their noses into others' business? Good God, the thing was practically
illegal
.

Rand paused at that. It was true that, in the normal course of events, he didn’t give a fig for anybody’s opinion of him. Everybody was entitled to one, after all, but this was different. This time it felt as if somebody was intruding into his life by the most subtle, secret means possible – behind his back - and he did not like it.

He looked at Edward Challender and frowned. ‘What if it were Julia that was mentioned?’

Something flashed in Edward’s blue eyes and for a moment both men were in complete accord. He was, however, more restrained than Rand. ‘I would not be happy.’

‘Would you want to stop them from printing anything else?’

‘Julia is unlikely to ever appear in Lady Libertine.’

‘Try to imagine it, just the same.’ Rand sounded testy. ‘Wouldn’t
you
want to stop them?’

‘Of course!’

Rand smiled inwardly. He might not find Challender to his liking, but he could not help but like that the man was so very besotted with his sister. It was just as well; it would have been a nuisance to run him through if he’d been the philandering type. ‘I shall see you tonight.’

‘You’re going around there now?’

‘I am. And this time, he
will
give me what I want.’

Edward shook his head and rose to his feet. ‘Good luck with that.’

Rand eyed him suspiciously. ‘Why did you come around, anyway? Wanted to rub my nose it?’

‘Not me,’ Edward said, heading towards the door, ‘It was your loving sister. She wanted you to be apprised of the situation, just in case it came up and you were caught unaware. Oh, and she wants to know if you will come to dinner tonight. I was to ask you.’

‘I suppose.’ He was loosely committed to other pursuits, but they could wait. The later the hour, the more amusements a gentleman could expect to find in London and it would be just as easy to start the evening off at his sister's.

‘Excellent. I will let her know. Oh, and Hamersley? Try not to strangle the editor of the
Times
. So hard to bury the scandal, you know.’

‘Nonsense,’ Rand retorted. ‘Bury the body and you bury the scandal, but I have no intention of harming anybody. I just want a little cooperation.’

Half an hour later, he was considering revising this attitude however, for Thomas Beaufort was, once again, proving to be most unhelpful.
More
than unhelpful; he was decidedly bloody-minded. Strangling the man no longer seemed out of the question.

‘I have already told you, my lord. I cannot help you.’ Beaufort sounded brisk, business like, and annoyingly uncowed.

‘But this rubbish is a breach of privacy.
My
privacy. The woman is a meddlesome troublemaker who will end up causing harm. It is a damnable thing, to sit in the shadows and spy on others.’

Thomas Beaufort frowned. ‘Perhaps,’ he said mildly, ‘people should be more wary about what they do in public places. Lady Libertine merely reports what she sees, surely. In public places.’

Rand stared at the man, frustrated. ‘Do you really not know her name?’ he demanded abruptly.

Beaufort shrugged. ‘As I have told you.’

‘Then you are an irresponsible fool!’ Rand rose, mouth tight. ‘And perhaps it is time the law intervened. I must be able to get some injunction against this… this rag to silence it. You are an offence against my privacy.’

‘What is reported in the paper is a matter of observation,’ Beaufort said softly, ‘and as such, for public scrutiny. You may try and get an injunction – you would not be the first – but I doubt you will be successful. No names are named, my Lord.’

Yes, Rand decided. He would very much have liked to reach across the desk and wrap his hands around the man’s throat and squeeze the information out of him, but the damned swine would probably cry to the magistrate about it and it was not worth the trouble. ‘You have not heard the last of this, Beaufort,’ he growled instead.

Beaufort sighed. ‘No. I daresay I have not.’

Rand left, more furious than when he arrived. Damn the man and damn whatever despicable creature it was that called herself Lady Libertine. Libertine! Even the name was an insult, so it was indeed an apt moniker for the bitch. If he ever found her, he would throw good behavior to the wind and lay about her buttocks with a horsewhip!

Moving down the stairs, he heard the door open below and a female entered. Rand narrowed his eyes, squinting against the glare of the open doorway for it was shadowy in the entry foyer. A small, slender figure was momentary outlined there. Closing it again, she moved forward and Rand paused, halfway down the last flight, and found himself staring at… what was her name again? Oh yes, Miss Lucy Landon. The girl Julia had introduced him to. The same girl he had spilt his glass of claret on when he had been making his escape from Caroline after their little tryst.

Memory stirred and he suddenly remembered where he had seen her before; right here, in this very office several days ago.

What the devil was she doing here again?

He walked down the rest of the steps slowly, moving forward until he stood before her. Miss Landon had stopped as well, eyes widening at the sight of him. She looked, he noted, as if she would very much like to leave again.

‘Miss Landon,’ he said, bowing.

‘My lord.’ She curtsied in return.

Dressed in a bronze walking dress, she looked very neat, not a dark brown hair out of place. Her face was unremarkable; features even, her generous mouth the only true mark of beauty, although her eyes were an attractive honey-brown. Still, she was hardly a standout beauty.

‘Have you also been maligned by that wretched Lady Libertine?’ It seemed the most logical reason for her presence, although it was hard to imagine this small creature as ever having done anything scandalous. Then he recalled the way she had fired up at the ball and amended that, just a little. Lucy Landon might be many things, but shy and retiring was not amongst them. He had caught the flash of temper in her eyes and the way she had looked at him. Unlike so many of the young girls that fluttered and flittered around social occasions like colorful flocks of butterflies, vying for his attention, Miss Landon found him singularly unimpressive.

The knowledge rankled, just a little.

She hesitated before she replied, as if weighing up the pros and cons, and his interest was pricked. What could the chit have done to look so – now, what was the word for it? – guilty? What guilty secret had the sly columnist discovered here? A private love affair?

‘No. That is to say, I have not been mentioned, but my mother was. She is very upset.’

‘I see.’ He wondered what in the world the girl’s mother had been up to, but it was hardly something he could ask. ‘So will you go and confront the editor? I warn you, he is not inclined to be helpful.’

For a moment the girl stood there, clearly undecided. Then she shook her head. ‘If you have already seen him, then there hardly seems any point. I believe I will go again.’

Rand stepped around her, courteously opening the door. She gave him a nod and moved out into the warm August sunshine. The girl’s maid was waiting outside, sitting on a bench close by. She rose immediately when she saw them.

‘Ooo, miss, you was quick. Was Mr. B not in then?’

‘Ah, no.’ Miss Landon hurried towards the girl, ‘Come along! We have some shopping to do.’

Mr. B? Rand processed this and came to an interesting conclusion. Moving forward swiftly, he fell into step beside her. ‘So, Miss Landon, you know Mr. Beaufort?’

She shot him a harried look. ‘Who?’

‘The editor of the
London Times
.’

‘Why do you ask?’

‘I was merely wondering. You were here today, you were here Wednesday, and your maid called him Mr. B.’ He saw maid and mistress exchange a look.

‘Ah. Well yes, we are acquainted.’

Were they, indeed? His suspicions were gaining momentum with every moment that passed. Lucy Landon knew Thomas Beaufort. Could this chit also know the identity of Lady Libertine? Could she be some kind of go between? Surely not. She looked so… so… well, he wasn’t entirely sure how she looked, but it was certainly along the lines of harmless. But
somebody
must know something about the impertinent upstart that was penning that damned column. He’d already concluded that somebody must be in Society itself. A servant would have neither the skills to write the pieces in
On Dit
nor the ability to move between social occasions. Edward had already pointed out that no less than a ball, a rout, and a masquerade had been featured in Friday’s column.

‘Miss Landon, I do believe we need to talk.’

‘Unfortunately, that is not possible just at the moment.’ As if to fit her words, her footsteps had quickened so they were fair striding down the street. It was quite an accomplishment from a girl whose legs were considerably shorter than his, but he had to lengthen his stride to keep apace. ‘I have an appointment.’