Lord Langley Is Back in Town (27 page)

“I’ll have you know, my good margravine,” Aunt Bedelia began, bristling with indignation, “that my Chudley is an excellent marksman and will most likely put your scandalous Langley in an early grave!”

“He can try, darling. He can try,” Tasha said, reaching over and patting her hand, as if already offering her condolences. “But as the margravine says, Langley is a devilish rogue. I fear your Chudley has challenged the wrong man.”

At this, Brigid came in, Knuddles at the hem of her gown. “But of course Chudley has challenged the wrong man. Whatever did Langley do? Flirt with his wife?” She made an inelegant sort of snort, as if such a thing were trifling and hardly worth the bother. “But I grieve for you, Lady Chudley. I do. For I doubt with your coloring you look all that well in black.”

Minerva glanced over at her aunt, who looked ready to give every single one of them a severe wigging, so she stepped into the fray and announced, “There isn’t going to be any killing. No need for widow’s weeds.”

The nannies shared a collective glance and sighed in unison, a sort of unanimous,
Oh, these English.

Tapping the heel of her slipper down hard, Minerva folded her arms over her chest. “I mean it. There will be no duel. Langley will never go through with this. He promised me he wouldn’t drag my name through scandal and he won’t.”

Tasha shook her head. “If you were worried about scandal, Lady Standon, whyever did you become engaged to the baron?”

“Yes, why did you, Lady Standon?” the margravine echoed.

Minerva found herself as the focal point of the room, with all eyes on her. Even, she suspected, Knuddles. “Well . . . because . . . I would say . . .”

Lucia waved her off. “Say no more. You love him. Of course you do. All women love Langley, rogue that he is.”

There were nods all around, save Aunt Bedelia, whose opinion of Minerva’s betrothed no longer glistened.

And while she would have liked to correct their assumption—that she was in love with Langley—she just offered a wan little smile. “I don’t want to see either man harmed. And neither does my aunt.”

“Of course no one wants to see a good man die,” Brigid began, “but however do you stop them when they get their blood up?”

Lucia shrugged in agreement at this, ever the Italian.

“Well, if you must stop him—” the margravine began.

“I must,” Minerva insisted.

“You could always poison him.” Having given up on any hope of a servant, the lady got up and helped herself to a plate full of eggs and sausages. “Ask Brigid for help—she’s the expert.”

“Poison?” Minerva gasped.

“Not so much to kill him, Lady Standon,” Brigid advised, handing down a piece of bacon to her monkey-faced little dog, cooing at him as he snapped it up. “Just enough to keep him down for a day or two.”

“If his horse were to go lame, he would not make it in time,” Tasha added.

“Hide his pistols,” Lucia offered.

“Tie him up,” the margravine suggested. When the others glanced at her, she scoffed at them. “As if any of you haven’t done as much.”

There were shrugs and nods all around, including Aunt Bedelia, and Minerva couldn’t believe what she was listening to.

“I still say having the rogue arrested is the best choice. Lock him up in Newgate and throw away the key,” Aunt Bedelia avowed.

“On what charges, my lady?” Tasha asked. “You English so adore your charges. Is it against the law to find a lady interesting? When Langley finds a lady charming, nothing can divert him.”

“Yes, yes, that is it,” Lucia agreed. “Lady Standon, Lady Chudley, you have naught to do but to keep your gentlemen diverted until the appointed time has passed.” She smiled wickedly.

Minerva thought her aunt would be outraged, but to her shock her aunt’s eyes widened with relief. “Yes, yes, that is the perfect idea. I shall keep my husband delightfully entertained and so exhausted that he will not be able to rise in the morning.”

“I hope he can still rise, darling, for your sake,” Tasha teased. “And if you do the same, Lady Standon, Langley will be well occupied as well.”

Once again Minerva found herself the center of attention. “I cannot do that!”

“Whyever not?” came the chorus of protest.

“We are not yet married.” She looked around the room waiting for the respectable support she would expect. Except she was prattling on to the wrong crowd. “We can hardly—”

Oh, it was no use, they all looked at her as if she had grown a second head.

“Minerva, you have always led a proper and respectable life—” Aunt Bedelia began.

Well, thank goodness there was one voice of reason in the room. Seducing Langley indeed! As scandalous as dueling. For hadn’t last night in the carriage nearly been her undoing?

But Minerva was in for a shock.

“My good niece, this is no time for propriety. We have a grievous situation. One that warrants extraordinary mettle,” Aunt Bedelia said, her voice ringing with conviction. “You must do everything in your power to lure that man into your bed and keep him there!”

D
own in the kitchen, Lady Chudley’s demand was met with a stunned silence.

Then Thomas-William leaned over and nudged Mrs. Hutchinson. “Now
you
owe
me
two bob.”

Chapter 11

A man manacled to your bed is nothing to be ashamed of.

Advice to Felicity Langley from her Nanny Tasha

“T
his is no time to play the pious widow!” Aunt Bedelia told her niece in no uncertain terms. “You must take that man to your bed.”

Actually, Minerva thought it a perfect time to play the pious widow and run for the nearest nunnery.

“And why wouldn’t you want to have Langley close?” Nanny Helga asked in that coy manner of hers. “You are, after all, madly in love with him, are you not?”

With all eyes on her, waiting for her to either declare her love or her engagement a hoax, as most of them suspected it to be, Minerva instead bolted to her feet, filled with a sudden urge to flee.

And as it was, Providence concurred with her sudden spate of cowardice, offering her the perfect excuse to do just that. For there, out the window, she spied the retreating figure of Lord Langley, along with Thomas-William and a young lad, ambling down the garden path toward the mews, where, much to her chagrin, a carriage awaited them.

Oh, damn that man! she silently cursed. He truly thought he could slip away and leave her to all this scandal? Not to mention, they hadn’t finished their conversation about the duel or that “robbery” last night.

Robbery, indeed. She’d wager the Sterling diamonds that it hadn’t been a mere robbery. But she’d get no answers to any of it if she let him slip away.

“Excuse me, Auntie,” she said. “I just remembered I promised Lord Langley I would accompany him on an errand.” She nodded politely to the others. “Ladies, if you will excuse me.” Pleasantries aside, she dashed from the room, ignoring the round of questions and complaints that followed her.

Up the stairs she went to catch up her bonnet, pelisse, and gloves, and then raced down the back stairs to avoid a second chorus of queries from the dining room. At the back door, she nearly collided with Mrs. Hutchinson, who was coming up from the kitchen lugging a basket.

“Oh, my lady! Are you going as well?” the housekeeper huffed. “For I would have packed more if I’d known you were off to the country with himself.”

Off to the country? Damn that Langley! Jaunting off and leaving her behind to deal with . . . well, everything.

“It is no matter, Mrs. Hutchinson,” Minerva said, catching up the handle and going out the door. “I’m quite sure Lord Langley won’t mind sharing with me. Not in the least.”

The lady answered as honestly as she always did. She snorted loudly and then chuckled her way back down to her kitchen lair as if she knew Lord Langley wouldn’t like Minerva’s arrival into his plans.

Not in the least.

Minerva smiled to herself, but didn’t waste another moment, hurrying out the back door and down the garden path. Langley was just settling into the seat of a plain curricle when she caught hold of the railing and pulled herself up and in beside him. “What a pleasant surprise, my lord. Mrs. Hutchinson says we are off for a ride in the country.” She smiled at him and settled her hand on his sleeve. “How odd I didn’t get the news until it was nearly too late to join you. But here I am. Happily, we are in this adventure together. Isn’t that so?”

L
angley glanced up at Thomas-William, who sat in the driver’s seat. The older man offered no help, just a shrug that tossed this problem back into Langley’s lap.

“Lady Standon, get out of the carriage,” he ordered.

Thomas-William winced.

“No,” the lady said, in a tone that suggested she wasn’t about to brook any objections.

In the tiger’s seat, Grady, one of Andrew’s lads, cheeky little fellow that he was, let out a low whistle, like a warning.

Beside him, Langley found Lady Standon not only settled in but, having tied her bonnet on, was even now inspecting the basket she’d brought, no doubt packed by Mrs. Hutchinson. When she plucked out a scone, she turned to Grady. “Have you had anything to eat this morning, child?”

“No, milady,” the boy whispered, awed to be so addressed.

She handed over the tasty morsel and smiled at the lad, conquering his stomach and heart in one fell swoop. “Scone, my lord?” she offered him.

“I will not be bribed with scones. Not even Mrs. Hutchinson’s. Now get out.”

“No, thank you.” She settled deeper into the seat. “Where are we off to this morning? Mrs. Hutchinson said something about the country.”

Before he could reply—which he wasn’t going to—Grady piped up from the back, “To Langley House, ma’am.”

This time, Thomas-William let out a loud guffaw, for the man knew, as did Langley, that now there would be no stopping Lady Standon from coming along. For if they did toss her out, she’d just follow.

Langley shot a black glare over his shoulder at Grady, but the boy was too happily eating his treat to notice. Instead, he made a note to himself to speak to Lord Andrew about feeding his brats more so they weren’t susceptible to bribes with scones . . . or a pretty face.

“Lovely day to show me my new home,” Minerva was saying. “You do delight in surprising me, Lord Langley, don’t you?”

“Your new wha-a-a-t?” He tried to make sense of what was happening, but even as he stammered out his dismay, she waved her hand toward Thomas-William, a sort of by-your-leave gesture. One the other man wasn’t going to argue about, for much to Langley’s dismay, the man picked up the reins and had the horses off and down the mews, driving with a steady, capable hand.

Oh, it wasn’t as simple as that, Langley vowed. Reaching forward, he caught the reins and pulled the horses to a stop. “You are not going, Lady Standon.”

“Langley, like it or not, I can be of use to you. You determined that when you proposed this engagement of ours. You wouldn’t have offered it if it didn’t help whatever cause it is you have embroiled yourself in.”

“Lady Standon, this is hardly the time or the place—”

She wasn’t done yet. “I can be of use to you. I proved that last night. If I hadn’t seen that child’s warning, you would be lying in the parlor with candles around your body and that circus of doxies you’ve got installed in my house wailing in mourning.”

“I don’t think they’d be wailing—” he began to point out. He doubted the margravine could even work up a plausible case of tears.

“Last night aside, if you think you can leave me home in that house—having to face callers and listen to the advice of those nannies—I will shoot you myself and save Chudley the trouble.” She folded her arms over her chest and stared at him, as if daring him to contradict her. “I still have Thomas-William’s pistol.”

“Aye, she does,” Thomas-William concurred. Well, he needn’t grin when he did.

“Please, Langley, let me be of some use,” she pleaded. “Even if I am naught but an outward distraction as to the true purpose of this outing.”

Langley set his teeth together. She was right on all counts. And he could see now why she had never remarried—she was probably sharper and more astute than half the bachelors in London put together.

Still, he shook his head, but before he could explain his reasons, or more to the point, think of some reasonable ones, she continued blithely on. “If anything, my presence gives this jaunt a far more respectable air than the three of you sneaking off on whatever nefarious business you have up your sleeves. So if anything, I would say my addition to your party is fortuitous. Especially if you plan on being shot at again. I daresay I will make every attempt to save your life again, but please, my lord, don’t expect me to make it a habit. I quite ruined my gown last night.”

There was another whistle from the tiger’s seat, and this time Langley turned and glared at Grady. “Listen well, you little kinchin cove,” he said, “I can put you out as well.”