Never Trust a Scoundrel (25 page)

Before coming to the front of the receiving
line, a footman announced their names to the ballroom, and Grace relaxed a tiny bit as barely anyone looked her way.

“See?” Beverly said into her ear.

All this proved was that Jenkins had not yet made the time to slander her. But there were hundreds of people moving about the ballroom, feathers fluttering and jewels glittering. The men in black evening clothes framed their ladies' colorful displays.

At last they were next in line to greet the Cabot family. The duke smiled at Grace warmly, and his lack of skepticism eased her. Somehow he had warmed to her. She sank into a curtsy before him, and then was introduced to his aunt, the hostess, and two female cousins and cousin-in-law. His sister, Lady Elizabeth, obviously remembered her, for after being introduced to Beverly, she grinned and took Grace's arm.

“Might I have Miss Banbury's attention for a moment?” Lady Elizabeth asked politely.

Beverly nodded. “I see friends I should greet, Grace. If you need me, I'll be near the arched entrance to the refreshment room.”

Grace was grateful for the explanation because she couldn't imagine being able to find her friend again in such an immense crowd.

“And how are you?” Grace asked Lady Elizabeth.

“Excited! I'm finally old enough for my first Madingley Ball!”

Grace gave her an indulgent smile, for she well
remembered her first ball, though of course it had been nothing so extravagant as this. But there had been young men, and she'd finally been allowed to have their attention—and it was where she'd first been overcome by the persistent courtship of Baxter Wells.

“Have you seen Daniel yet?” Lady Elizabeth asked.

There were people on all sides of them, and Grace regretted that she did not have the height to search for him. “No, I only just arrived.”

“Of course you did!” she said, laughing at herself. “Do you know that his mother is here as well? We are quite shocked and pleased that she's decided to leave her mourning at last—although she's still wearing gray, of course, but that is better than the black she's worn for twenty years. I've only ever seen her in that!”

Grace smiled, feeling exhausted by Lady Elizabeth's fast-paced monologue. “And I'm certain her reintroduction to Society is going well.”

Lady Elizabeth lowered her voice. “We think so, and she has many friends to surround her, but there are always people who want to talk about that silly old scandal.”

And at that moment, Grace saw Horace Jenkins. She tried to give him a polite smile, hoping he had understood that his power over her was finished.

Without breaking her gaze, he leaned toward the man he was standing with and spoke in an urgent manner. The man's eyebrows rose; he
searched the crowd with his gaze—and found Grace.

She couldn't look away. The two men stared at her, Jenkins wearing a triumphant, tight smile, and the other man regarding her as if she were a piece of meat he wanted to snack on. Grace looked away, but the damage was done. The truth was going to make its way about the Madingley Ball, and her privacy would be no more. She felt unclean, as if she should thrust Lady Elizabeth from her before she could contaminate the girl.

But Lady Elizabeth was chatting about the young men she'd been introduced to, and it was a while before Grace could politely take her leave.

She wandered the ball alone, not bothering to look for Beverly right away. She ran into the occasional lady whose acquaintance she had already made, and was greeted civilly, politely, without a hint of lurid curiosity. Then Grace would move on again, swept up in the current of the ballroom, skirting the many couples dancing in the center of the room, passing the refreshment room.

And then she caught another man's eye, and instead of a polite bow, she received a shocked stare. He was speaking with an older lady, who gasped when she saw Grace, and began to speak even more forcefully to the man, using her hands to gesture wildly. And they continued to stare at her as if politeness would no longer apply to a woman whose own mother had sold her on a bet.

In the refreshment room was a long buffet table full of gleaming silver tureens and platters dis
playing tempting foods, but Grace couldn't eat. She was too busy holding her head high, nodding to people she passed, pretending nothing was wrong—pretending that she was above it.

She saw Daniel, and her heart beat wildly for a moment with just the pleasure of his looking at her. And then her feelings plummeted, knowing she could not allow it to continue. These past weeks, people had watched the two of them with interest, but now there was an undercurrent of ugly fascination. She wanted Daniel to stay away, but he came toward her with clear purpose. The crowd parted eagerly, watching, waiting. Surely a woman like her was only worth being his mistress.

He took her gloved hand and kissed it, and although she was warmed clear to her toes by the sweet gesture, it took everything in her not to pull away.

“Mr. Throckmorten,” she began in a low voice.

“Miss Banbury, you look stunning as always.”

His low, smooth voice made her shiver inside. How was she to spend her days without these wondrous feelings he inspired in her? She had to school her features, had to show the
ton
that she could be as remote as any of them.

But she knew she was foolishly smiling at Daniel, sealing her fate.

“We're quite the object of gossip tonight,” he said quietly, holding up his arm to her.

She reluctantly placed her hand on his forearm. “I told you I could handle my…problem, and
I guess you feel that I haven't done a very good job.”

“You stood up to a blackmailer,” he said softly. “You have the courage of a lioness.”

She blinked up at him in surprise, heat and tenderness spilling through her. “But…it didn't work. He has told people what my mother did to me. Can't you tell? You shouldn't even be seen with me.”

“He's told everyone that I was a part of a base game where a woman's reputation was at stake. You are only the victim, while I was a knowing participant. It's been over an hour now since the rumors started. Do you know how the story has grown?”

Though he spoke with amusement, she felt her face drain of blood.

He patted her hand. “Don't worry. It will all come to right.”

“How can you say that?” she whispered fiercely, her face frozen in a false smile. “What are they saying?”

“Grace—”

“Tell me!”

“The bet has grown from the right to court and marry you—which didn't bother many people, I might add—”

“Daniel!”

“Very well, the next version was that I won the right to your virginity.”

She gasped. “Can the story become worse?”

“I can see you are not familiar with the deviltry
of the
ton,
my love, because now the rumor is that we have a baby together, which we just visited at Madingley Court.”

It took her a moment to hear what he said, because the words “my love” were ringing in her ears and in her heart.
My love?
What was he saying? Was he trying to shore up her reputation? She felt ill thinking he'd feel like he had to save her—like she'd just trapped him into marriage by her foolish confrontation with Jenkins.

How could she ever know if he really loved her if he felt forced to marry her?

But maybe marriage wasn't even occurring to him. After all, she was just like her own mother—and his: giving her future children a scandal to live down.

Was she alone in this disaster?

Then her brother Edward approached them, and on his arm was a lovely young woman with striking red hair who betrayed a bit of nervousness as she stared all around her. Grace glanced about, and people were watching openly, as if they expected Edward to challenge Daniel.

“Grace, this is Miss Hutton,” Edward said. “Miss Hutton, my sister, Miss Banbury.”

Grace remembered to curtsy, and the other woman did the same. On a night like this, how could Edward introduce her to the woman who'd captured his attention? Didn't he know that this scandal might drive away Miss Hutton, leaving him all alone?

She felt Daniel's steady arm beneath her hand,
and she remembered to breathe. “It is so nice to meet you, Miss Hutton.”

“A pleasure meeting you, Miss Banbury,” she said in a sweet voice. “Your brother has told me so much about you, and said I'm supposed to ask you any questions I might have, but I'm not sure I could be so forward.” She glanced at Edward with guilt. “And I think I probably speak too quickly.”

But Edward smiled down at Miss Hutton with such fondness that Grace found some of her tension easing. She so wanted him to be happy. “Please, Miss Hutton, ask anything you'd like. And come to call on me, so we can become better acquainted. Have you met Mr. Throckmorten?”

“I have,” she said, smiling up at Daniel. “He has been a guest of my parents. Good evening, Mr. Throckmorten.”

While Daniel answered politely, Grace saw that the duke was approaching them, escorting Beverly.

And then Grace realized that all the people she cared about were rallying in support of her, showing the gossipmongers how little the scandal mattered. She could have cried.

But she couldn't imagine it would be enough to make her a valued guest in people's homes. Except maybe as an attraction, like at the zoo.

As Edward and the duke spoke with each other, Daniel said into her ear, “Grace, stay with Madingley. I have something I need to do, but we'll be
together again soon—and no, I'm not going after Jenkins.”

“I never thought so,” she said solemnly. Looking up into his warm eyes, she murmured, “I trust you, Daniel.”

He smiled and kissed her hand before he walked away.

Then it was Edward's turn to make his excuses for a moment, leaving Miss Hutton with them. Miss Hutton stared at the duke as if he were the Prince Consort himself, and Grace was amused at the duke's patient smile.

The orchestra finished playing a quadrille and did not begin another musical selection. Grace looked up at the duke in surprise, but surely he was not about to make a speech to the assembly since he was right beside her.

He smiled and extended his arm to Grace. “Will you come with me?”

“Of course, Your Grace,” she said, wondering what he was about. There was no music to dance to. She glanced at Beverly and Miss Hutton, who both looked as confused as she felt.

The crowd parted for them, and people did not give her the shocked smirks they'd been giving her before, now that she was on the arm of the duke.

She still could not see through the crowd when she heard the first chords of a piano. Silence started before her, then spread all around as people whispered to others behind them. Grace
didn't know what was going on, but the duke still seemed calm.

As they neared the corner of the room where the orchestra had been set up, the last of the guests backed away before them, and Grace saw who was playing the piano.

Lady Flora, Daniel's mother. Grace inhaled a shocked breath.

The light gray gown she wore softened the severity that Grace had first associated with her. Her face was full of concentration, and the next few lines of music were hesitant. But then confidence seemed to suffuse her, and she smiled faintly as she continued the piece. Grace thought she recognized one of Baldwin Throckmorten's compositions. Why had Lady Flora decided to renew her musical career in so public a place?

The first sweet strains of a violin made Grace's head turn swiftly. Daniel was walking toward his mother, the antique violin beneath his chin. He played from memory, and although his rendition was not flawless, since he had obviously not been practicing, the fact that mother and son performed together after all these years made her eyes start to water. At her side, the duke looked solemn, but proud, and she saw Lady Elizabeth blowing her nose into her handkerchief.

And then she began to wonder why Daniel and his mother were putting themselves on display for all the gossips in the crowd, resurrecting an old scandal about jealousy and betrayal and murder.
Did they want people to start talking again, or were they testing to see if at last the scandal had faded away?

And then Daniel met her eyes, and she caught her breath in sudden understanding. Tears began to run down her cheeks, and when she fumbled with her reticule, the duke handed her his monogrammed handkerchief, which she used unabashedly.

Daniel and his mother were doing this for her. They were distracting the crowd with memories of a worse scandal.

Daniel came closer, serenading her. The sweet notes of the violin were pure and touched her heart deeply. Did he love her? Could she risk telling him how she felt?

“He's quite good,” said a dry voice in her ear.

She barely glanced at her brother, so focused was she on Daniel and the soothing effect he and his mother were having on the hundreds of assembled guests.

Then Grace looked more closely at her brother and saw a spot of blood in the corner of his mouth. “What did you do to yourself?” she demanded in a whisper.

“Showed Jenkins what happens when he hurts a Banbury.”

She gaped at him. “You fought with him? Here?”

“Landed some really good blows,” Edward said cockily, grinning down at Miss Hutton, who was full of admiration. “He only managed to hit me
once. And the conservatory was quite empty, what with the show Throckmorten is putting on.”

“You poor man!” Miss Hutton said, reaching up with her handkerchief to dab at his lip.

Grace blinked as she turned from Miss Hutton to Edward, who grinned back at her. He was going to be all right, in more ways than one. And so much of it was because of Daniel.

The last notes of the piece rang in the air, and the applause seemed more than just polite, easing Grace's fears. Daniel came toward their small group, and to her surprise, he handed Edward the violin.