Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel (3 page)

For
the
love
of…
Where was Jake now? Lana scanned the room and discovered her brother detained by an earnest young woman and her mother. His brows drew together, and he rubbed his forehead as if in pain. She stifled a giggle. It seemed Jake needed someone to protect
him.

Pushing her amusement aside, she offered Lord Andrew a dispassionate stare. The man was too cheeky, by far. She had been jesting, at least to some degree. Husband hunting was a dull, albeit necessary, occupation. “I am
not
most women.”

“I cannot dispute your claim, Miss Hillary, but perhaps that is your strategy,” Lord Andrew said with a self-satisfied grin. “Pretending to run from gentlemen until you snag a husband is a wise tactic. Most men enjoy a good chase.”

Oh, he thought himself so clever. She lifted her chin. “You would be the expert, my lord. I imagine chasing skirts is your forte.”

Although Phoebe gasped, Lord Andrew broke into warm laughter. His entire being lit from within and the musical sound of his voice wrapped around her, soothing her temper despite her determination to be cross with him.

He bowed, his eyes shining with merriment. “Touché, Miss Hillary.”

Lana couldn’t banish Lord Andrew from her thoughts for several hours following their encounter. She recalled their conversations verbatim as the Berlin carried her and Jake home to Hillary House at the end of the evening. Frustrated with her inability to cease thinking on Lord Andrew, she huffed and shifted her position on the carriage seat again.

Jake crossed his arms and scowled. “For goodness’ sake, Lana. What’s with all the huffing? Are you laying an egg over there?”

She lifted her nose and refused to dignify Jake’s question with a response. He needn’t take out his surliness on
her.
She shifted on the bench once again as an idea occurred to her. Maybe she would benefit from some of her brother’s knowledge of Lord Andrew’s rotten vices, because surely he had many. Perhaps if she knew the entire list of his sins, her foolish musings on what it must feel like to surrender to his kiss would go away.

“Tell me the reason you dislike Lord Andrew,” she demanded.

Jake grunted and stared out the window. With the lamp burning inside the carriage, there was nothing beyond the glass but a sea of darkness. “This isn’t an appropriate subject to discuss with a lady.”

“Away from everyone, I’m not a lady. I’m your sister.”

“In the ballroom, you
are
a lady,” he argued, “and that blackguard ruins ladies.”

Lana gasped. “Like Leo… Lord Paddock ruined Miss Bettis?”

Jake dropped his head back against the seat and groaned. “Must we discuss Forest?”

“You cannot imply Lord Andrew ruins young ladies and then refuse to share the details. It’s very unfair.”

Her brother grimaced. “Allow me to rephrase. I have no direct knowledge of any action leading to the ruining of innocents. However, his liaisons tend to be brief and varied.”

“Oh,” Lana said on a breath of air. “Well, that is entirely different, isn’t it?” She slumped against the seat, relieved to learn Lord Andrew wasn’t in the same class as her former betrothed, and yet disappointed to have her observations of the gentleman confirmed. Lord Andrew was a scoundrel.

“I was surprised to find him in attendance tonight,” Jake said. “Forest doesn’t typically keep company with polite society, which no doubt explains his lack of decorum this evening.”

“Yes, he was rather forthright in his discussion of the barmaid. No beating around the bush with the gentleman. I suppose one might admire that quality.”

Jake’s expression darkened and his white teeth flashed in the dim interior of the carriage. “You’ll steer clear of Forest or there will be the devil to pay.”

Lana dropped her head a fraction of an inch and raised her eyebrows in mock amusement. She wasn’t one to tolerate threats, much less from her brother, and she wouldn’t abide a raised voice. “Don’t think to intimidate me, Jake. I shall keep company with whomever I wish.”

“Good God.” Jake pinched the bridge of his nose and blew out a forceful breath. “This is for your own protection. You
will
abide by my rules.”

Her brother’s boorishness crossed the boundaries of her tolerance, which he must have deduced when Lana folded her arms over her chest and set her jaw.

“Lana, be sensible.” His voice bordered on pleading. “You have your pick of fine gentlemen. Anyone you want. You’ve no cause to associate with libertines.”

She sighed. Of course, she wouldn’t seek out the company of such scandalous gentlemen. She sincerely wished for a tidy match with a respectable sort, but her brother wore blinders in the ballroom. She
didn’t
have her pick of upstanding gentlemen. She had overbearing, destitute viscounts clamoring for her hand.

“Tell me the true reason you dislike Lord Andrew,” she said softly.

He hooked a finger between his cravat and neck to loosen it. “What do you mean by the true reason? I hardly need an additional reason to dislike any scoundrel found sniffing round my sister’s skirts.”

“He wasn’t—He—” Good heavens, if her brother only knew the accuracy of this turn of phrase. “The—the man barely knows I’m alive.”

“Oh, he knows, Lana. The gentleman came perilously close to salivating in your presence.”

She scoffed as a rush of warmth infused her body. Jake behaved as if she was the Queen of Sheba, but she kept a looking glass in her bedchamber. She knew her unfashionable red hair and the freckles sprinkled across her nose were abominations. Her mother reminded her almost daily. Lana couldn’t help it if her ivory skin spotted just thinking about the sun.

“Please, trust my intentions, Lana. I don’t want to see you hurt. Not again.”

Her mouth dropped open but no sound came out. Her brother referenced Paddock, delivering the equivalent of a gut punch. Humiliation engulfed her, and she couldn’t squeeze out any words around the lump forming in her throat.

Lord Paddock had duped her entire family, but Lana had been the biggest cake of all. She had ignored the ample evidence that he’d been with other women, the lip rouge on his cravat, his waistcoat reeking of lavender. Only a simpleton would believe a visit to his elderly aunt accounted for the blood red smears and cloud of cheap perfume clinging to his person.

Lana had made excuses to her family to explain a missed afternoon stroll or his late arrival at the theatre. She’d accepted his flimsy tales with wide-eyed naïveté, convinced she only needed to be a better fiancée to make Leo love her as she had thought she loved him.

Even when rumors of his mistreatment of Miss Bettis circulated, she had confronted him with the secret hope he would vehemently deny the accusations leveled against him. A foolish part of her believed Leo would reassure her everyone was mistaken, that he wasn’t responsible for the young lady’s injuries. That he’d never even made her acquaintance.

Lana shuddered. She could have been in Miss Bettis’s shoes just as easily. Closing her eyes, she breathed deeply to gather her strength.

Her brother had no reason to fear. Lana would never become enamored with a rake again.

“One must offer one’s heart up in order to have it broken,” she said. “I shan’t be hurt again since I’m aware now that love is rubbish.”

She opened her eyes to discover Jake’s unwavering stare. Sadness flitted across his features as he scooted across the carriage to assume the seat next to her and place his arm around her shoulders.

“Please, don’t say that,” he implored. “Love isn’t rubbish.”

“Perhaps not for you,” she murmured.

Jake didn’t argue. Instead, he squeezed her in a brotherly hug, making tears prick the back of her eyes. She sniffled a few times before inching away and twisting sideways on the bench to face him.

“Will you tell me of your infatuation with Lady Audley?”

Jake’s eyes widened for one fleeting moment before his expression went blank. “I don’t know your meaning.” He directed his gaze forward; his jaw tightened. Clearly, he did know her meaning, but she would honor his reticence for now.

Sadness rolled off him in waves. Jake cared deeply for the young woman, more than Lana had guessed. And he obviously required assistance in his pursuit. Lucky for him, Lana was the perfect one to further his cause. After all, Jake
had
accused her of being an effective matchmaker. Why shouldn’t she use her talents to help someone dear to her?

Lana tapped her finger to her chin as an idea formed in her mind. The visitors at Shafer Hall would spend most of their days engaged in activities at Irvine Castle, the Northumberland residence belonging to Phoebe’s father-in-law, the Duke of Foxhaven. Perhaps Lana’s friend could arrange an invitation to Irvine Castle for the beautiful widow.

“Pay me no mind,” she said. “I see you harbor no fondness whatsoever for Lady Audley.”

***

Drew’s routine had returned to normal after the Eldridge ball, the soiree proving to be nothing more than a tiny bump on the otherwise smooth road to debauchery. In fact, he’d almost succeeded in banishing the entire encounter with the fiery Miss Hillary from his mind. Almost. Nonetheless, her memory plagued him more than usual this evening, and he found himself wondering what event she attended tonight.

He’d been loitering at Brook’s for the past three hours, bored with the same scene, the same faces. He considered, and dismissed, the idea of heading to the gaming hells or paying a visit to the lovely new wench under Madame Montgomery’s employ. Even those prospects sounded dull.

Drew had always relished his decadent existence: imbibing, gambling, and a different woman to bed every night. It was his calling. His father expected it of him. While his older brother, Rich, was the responsible one, Drew’s exploits provided entertainment to his sire. But as of late, his usual pursuits brought him little excitement. When had everything in his life become so mundane?

“Down on your luck, Forest?”

Drew glanced up to find his childhood friend, Anthony Keaton, Earl of Ellis, meandering to where he sat nursing a drink. They had first made each other’s acquaintance as young boys barely out of leading strings, having grown up on neighboring estates. Later, they attended Eton followed by Oxford the same years.

The prospect of challenging Ellis to a game of billiards and recalling old times cheered Drew a smidge. “My luck is improving with your arrival.”

Ellis flopped into an adjacent chair with a grimace. “My gambling days are over.”

“Since when?”

“Since I lost nine hundred pounds the last time I played faro with you. What are you drinking?”

Drew jiggled his near empty tumbler. “Scotch.”

“Let me buy you another.” Ellis signaled for a footman. “Another scotch for my friend and I’ll have a brandy.”

When the man returned with the drinks, Ellis sank back in his chair. “How’s your family?”

Drew raised an eyebrow in bemusement. “The same.”

“And your mother and father? How are they?”

Egads.
If he had hoped for sparkling conversation from Ellis, he was disappointed so far. “Both are in excellent health. Thank you for inquiring.”

“I suppose your sisters are fit as well. Gabrielle and… um, the other girls.”

“Indeed. I’ve received no notice of any dire illnesses afflicting any of my siblings.”

“What are the other girls’ names?” he asked absently.

Drew chuckled. “Damnation, Ellis. Are you drafting my biography?”

His friend laughed as well. “I wouldn’t wish to put readers into a sleeping trance.”

“Then explain your line of questioning before you place me in a sleeping trance.”

“It’s nothing. I’ve simply been thinking how long it has been since I visited the Forest brood. Have they departed for the country?”

“Good God, man. Spit it out. What is it you wish to know?”

Ellis gulped his drink instead of answering. Then he pursed his lips, seeming to ponder his next words. He sat up straight before leaning forward to rest his forearms on his thighs. “I wish to inquire after Gabby.”

Every muscle in Drew’s body tensed. “You mean my sister,
Lady
Gabrielle?”

Ellis twitched. “Yes, of course, Lady Gabrielle.” He chuckled, but it came out strained. “It’s difficult for me to think of her as a grown woman. I meant no disrespect.”

Drew banged his glass on the table beside him. “She’s not a grown woman, so stop thinking about her at all.”

“You’re right, of course.” Ellis sipped his drink, studying Drew over the rim. “But will she be presented next season?”

Did Drew detect a note of hope in his friend’s voice?

“What has gotten into you, gent? Do you fancy yourself in love with Gabby?” Drew’s eyes narrowed on his friend as the magnitude of what Ellis’s objectives might be dawned on him. “Don’t tell me your intentions with my sister are dishonorable unless you’d like to schedule a dawn appointment. Since we have a history, I would only wing you, but you may lose use of your arm.”

The earl smiled indulgently, not intimidated in the least despite his knowledge of Drew’s abilities with a firearm.

“Rest assured that I have no intentions with Lady Gabrielle. I am simply curious. She seemed to be of age at the duke’s birthday celebration.”

“Well, you are mistaken. It could be two years yet before Gabby is presented.” Drew hoped to discourage his friend, because despite his denial, Ellis wore a familiar lovesick expression. His brother, Richard, had adopted a similar smitten appearance once he met Phoebe.

“Two years,” Ellis muttered. “In two years it is.”

Bloody hell. The earl was making a mental note. What type of illness plagued Ellis and Rich? First Drew’s brother leg-shackled himself to Phoebe, a lovely young woman to be sure if one
must
select a spouse, and it appeared Ellis desired to follow his example.
But
Gabby?
She was a mere girl. How could Ellis consider her otherwise?

Listening to any more of his friend’s drivel would either drive Drew batty or compel him to issue a challenge to defend Gabby’s honor. Neither prospect pleased him, so he dragged his weary frame from the chair. “I’m off to Rendell’s.”

“Yes, well, good luck,” Ellis mumbled.

As Drew gathered his hat and cane from the porter, Jake Hillary strolled into the gentlemen’s club. His lip curled as his sight landed on Drew. Although Drew wouldn’t have claimed friendship with Hillary, he had never considered them enemies. What had gotten into the man that night at the Eldridge ball?

“Hillary.” He called out a jovial greeting, willing to overlook the other gentleman’s hostile behavior. “Released from your escort duties tonight, or did you leave that peach of a sister to fend for herself?”

“She’s none of your concern,” Hillary snapped. “And don’t bother making the rounds. She is under the safety of our father’s roof tonight.”

Make
the
rounds?
The ballrooms were the last place Drew wanted to be. He’d finally managed to extricate himself from his association with Lady Audley and preferred to avoid any future contact. Not even the prospect of catching a glimpse of Miss Hillary would compel him to visit the horrid places.

Jake handed his hat and gloves to the porter. “Rest assured Lana will be under
my
protection when we visit your brother’s estate in a few days.”