The Trouble With Virtue: A Comfortable Wife\A Lady by Day (30 page)

CHAPTER TWO

J
OSEPHINE
, L
ADY
M
ARECK
, had a dog named Bentley.

Joseph Bentley.

It could not be that bloody simple.

It could not
possibly
mean what it implied.
Could
it?

By the time he returned to his lodgings, Noah had decided it could.

An invitation awaited him—a ball, tonight, hosted by the Dowager Lady Wescott.

You shan’t be without acquaintance,
Lady Wescott wrote.
Josephine, Lady Mareck, whom I expect you know through your mutual relationship with Elias Woodbridge, will be in attendance.

Then by all means, let him dress at once.

He crumpled the invitation in his fist, made a sudden decision, and headed back out to the street. Twenty-four hours wasn’t quite enough to cure his sea legs, and the ground seemed to move beneath his feet. Outside in the cold night drizzle, he ordered another chair.

You may have difficulty catching him awake when you call.

Or perhaps there’d merely been a
mix-up,
and Elias’s butler had told him by
mistake
that Elias was asleep.

On Joseph Bentley’s orders.

On
Josephine, Lady Mareck’s
orders.

The chair clopped along the street toward Elias’s house, and Noah conjured her in his mind’s eye: smooth, auburn hair, elaborately coiffed and lightly
powdered. Flawless seashell skin. Hazel eyes that gave away nothing. Generous breasts pushed high and round above a shapely waist. Delicate collarbones that had him fisting his hand against the desire to trace them.

Christ. If he could be guaranteed companionship of that caliber, he might welcome the too-fast approach of his own declining years.

He laughed into the empty carriage. Wouldn’t that be just his bloody luck? If his cousin was having an affair with the stunning Lady Mareck, convincing Elias to leave London would be next to impossible.

Outside in the darkness, the cold, drizzly, filthy reasons that
anyone
should wish to leave London sat shrouded in all their dreariness. The Mediterranean climate would be so much better for Elias’s health. He sat back and rubbed his forehead, considering the possibility that Elias was more ill than he’d believed. That Noah was too late. Had waited too long.

Damn it to hell.

There were other naval architects. He could find someone else to help him revive that old Turkish shipyard. But he couldn’t find an architect who was also his cousin. Elias was the only relative Noah had left.

Elias’s butler, Mr. Trowe, did not pretend to hide his displeasure at seeing Noah a third time in one day. He wasn’t half as displeased as Noah, who stated his business and headed for the staircase.

“Sir, I must insist— Sir, I absolutely forbid you to go upstairs! Quickly—call the footmen!” Noah ignored the footsteps pounding up the stairs behind him. “Sir, you must stop this instant!”

Noah didn’t. “You may inform Lady Joseph Bentley that you attempted to stop me from seeing Mr. Woodbridge but were unsuccessful,” he said sharply.

Elias’s room was easy enough to find—it was the one with the chambermaid standing stubbornly in front of the door. Her resolve fled when she saw him, and she quickly stepped out of the way.

Noah paused and looked at the butler. “Would you care to announce me, or shall I announce myself?”

“This is an outrage. Sir, you do
not
have permission—”

Noah gave a rapid double knock and cracked the door. “Elias? It’s Noah Rutledge.” Nothing. “Elias?” He opened the door and stepped inside.

The bed was empty. There was nobody in the room.

He turned on the butler. “
Where
is Mr. Woodbridge?” A dozen alarming possibilities tumbled through his mind.

The man observed him, prune-lipped. “He is out for the evening.”

“Out for the
evening?
He’s a bloody invalid!” Only after the words shot from his lips did it occur that perhaps he wasn’t.

Lady Mareck could have been lying about that, too.

“And where,” Noah managed to ask through a growing fury, “has he gone?”

Trowe shook his head. “I cannot tell you, sir. I simply do not know.”

“You don’t know.”

“He never tells us what he’s about, sir.”

Never
implied that this was a regular occurrence. “Am I to understand that Mr. Woodbridge is in perfect health? That there’s been no physician here today, as I was told earlier?”

Trowe’s jaw worked a little. “Would that were the case, sir.”

“Then he
is
in ill health.”

“Sir, I must ask you to leave.”

Oh, he was leaving. Most definitely.

He had a ball to attend.

* * *

J
OSEPHINE
SHOULD
HAVE
told Pauline she needn’t dance with Mr. Crumley, but it would be impossible for Pauline to form any real opinion of the man—of
any
man—if she never spoke to him, or in Pauline’s case, to anyone. The look of betrayal Pauline had cast her as she’d walked away made her feel like a cruel old auntie, but that was part and parcel of being a proper chaperone. Especially when Charlotte already worried that Josephine hadn’t really changed in all these years and would somehow manage to ruin her daughters during their first Season instead of finding them husbands.

“I don’t know why
I
never think of scalloped lace,” Josephine was saying to Lady Orville, who was here with no fewer than three granddaughters. “Your gown is remarkable. Quite stunning.” She tried to spot Pauline through the crowd, but someone else caught her eye. Her fan stilled.

Sir Noah.

He saw her, and their eyes locked through the crowd before she pointedly looked away.

“Oh, fie,” Lady Orville said. “You are
much
too free with your compliments, Josephine. I must say, your musical entertainment the other night was splendid. But then, your entertainments are always exceptional— Oh, dear. I think he’s standing too close. Do you think he’s standing too close?”

Josephine followed Lady Orville’s line of sight toward her eldest granddaughter, who was talking with the future Baron Lytle.

“I think they turned to avoid the crush, is all,” Josephine said, too aware that Sir Noah was systematically making his way toward her.

He stopped to talk with Eleanor, the evening’s hostess. Laughed at something she said. His smile sliced across the room, and Josephine’s pulse leaped just a little.

“Yes, Josephine.” Lady Orville let out a breath of air and fanned herself once more. “Yes, you’re right. They are practically besieged. Although I daresay they’ve talked long enough. I think I should separate them.”

“It’s only been a minute or two.” Sir Noah moved away from Eleanor. He wore a striking jacket unlike anything else in the room, dark green and shimmering with an embroidered pattern of Moorish vines. “You mustn’t fret—Davinia is much too attractive to go un-sought-after by every eligible possibility. Young Mr. Lytle will not be
able
to monopolize her.”

Sir Noah paused to chat with Lord Poole, then Colonel Wenthurst, then Lord Yost, moving ever closer. And closer. And she had an awful feeling she knew why.

Lady Orville squeezed Josephine’s arm. “You are too kind, as always. My fears do get the best of me where Davinia is concerned.”

“Shall we go see if we can refresh our punch?” Josephine asked.

“Certainly! Oh— Oh, there is Burton. Do forgive me, Josephine. I
must
go speak with him. I’ve been so anxious for Davinia to be introduced to his eldest son.”

“By all means, go. Oh—there are Honoria and Annabelle.”

The hair tingled on the back of Josephine’s neck as she moved through the crush toward her friends. The sharp hum of pursuit coursed hot and fast with her pulse.

He knows.

Yet there was a chance he didn’t.

Auntie Josephine, Bentley just tore a bit of lace from my gown!
A very small breath of a chance.

“La, Josephine!
There
you are.”

“Would anyone care to join me in the other room for a glass of fresh punch?” Josephine asked quickly, only to see that Honoria’s eyes were already fixed with great interest on something behind her. “Ophelia? Punch?” Josephine tried now “It’s so dreadfully warm in here—”

But it was too late, because just then—as if he cared nothing at all for social order—Sir Noah joined them.

“Good evening, Lady Mareck,” he said, moving in next to her, so close that the tails of his jacket brushed her skirts.

She turned her head as if only just noticing him. “Sir Noah,” she said pleasantly. “What a lovely surprise to see you again so soon.”

Amusement creased his eyes, but only just. “The surprise has been mine.” He took her hand and brought it to his lips. “Mr. Bentley,” he murmured against her skin, looking directly into her eyes.

She withdrew her hand, careful not to react. “Do allow me to introduce Lady Edgethorn—” she gestured to Annabelle “—Lady Nystrom—” Ophelia “—and Lady Ramsey, whose brother Lord Croston you may be acquainted with, as he captains one of his Majesty’s ships in the Mediterranean fleet.”

“Ah, yes.” Sir Noah smiled at Honoria. “The much-celebrated Captain Warre, and for very good reason. An honor, Lady Ramsey.”

“If I’d known you were returning to England,” Honoria said, “I would have insisted that you bring him with you. I swear I see my brother so infrequently I hardly recognize him.”

“You don’t really keep a caged lion aboard your ship, do you, Sir Noah?” Annabelle asked.

He laughed. “If I did, there’s no doubt he would also be a seasick lion. That sounds like a good deal more trouble than I’m prepared for. I’m lucky to have room for a dozen chickens.”

Ophelia fluttered her fan and perused him openly. “There’s been a great deal of speculation whether we might see you riding about London on a camel.”

“Perhaps I might at that, if only so I do not disappoint.”

“I doubt that would be possible, Sir Noah.” Ophelia drew her fan across her neck and swept her gaze across his torso.

Josephine could excuse herself and hope the flattery would keep him there while she made her escape. Or she could remain stubbornly with her friends until sheer awkwardness forced him to remove himself.

“I realize this is hardly the appropriate time or place,” he said now, turning to Josephine, “but I hoped I might have a word with you about my cousin.” Three pairs of eyes turned on her with simultaneous envy and sympathetic understanding.

Or, she could take a private turn about the room with Sir Noah.

“By all means.” Her smile felt brittle on her lips. “I’d been hoping to refresh my punch.”

She tucked her hand into his elbow and felt solid muscle ripple beneath brocaded silk.

“What an unpleasant evening,” she said as they walked. “I detest when it rains during a ball. One cannot escape outside to catch one’s breath.”

“The weather has been terrible all afternoon,” he said. “Which was all the more aggravating, as I found myself traveling all over town searching for a man who doesn’t exist.”

“How frustrating that must have been for you.”

“Oh, Joseph,” he murmured. “You have no idea. But discovering the truth has been worth the trouble, I assure you.” He rubbed his jaw, as though he might have had a beard he wasn’t quite used to doing without. “Suppose you tell me where Elias is now? Is he here?”

“Here? Heavens, no. And I will warn you, this would not be a good time for a visit. He takes three different medicines before bedtime, all of which contain significant quantities of spirits, and he won’t be in his right mind.”

“Won’t he?” His blue eyes drilled into her, bright with anger and another emotion that was very much anger’s opposite. “I might be inclined to believe you, had I not already been to his house and learned he was out for the evening.”

He’d returned to Elias’s. Naturally. “Sometimes Trowe will say things just so that Elias can enjoy some peace.”

“I saw his empty bed with my own eyes.”

Trowe had let him upstairs? She tamped down a lick of fury. “I’m afraid I cannot help you, Sir Noah. He could well have been in his anteroom or the library... Who’s to say?”

Amusement tugged at his lips. “Trowe, for one. He confessed that Elias had gone out, but could not say where. Or wouldn’t say. I have my doubts as to the man’s candor.”

Elias and his nighttime excursions—what a devil. He’d slept all afternoon, scarcely eaten a thing. Hardly been able to breathe, worse than usual. Taken three spoonfuls of medicine—and
still
he’d gone out despite a hundred discussions about why he should not.

“Thank you for apprising me of the situation,” she said, and started to turn away. “I will see that it is resolved, and I pray you will enjoy the rest of your evening.”

In the privacy between their bodies, strong fingers curled around her wrist—large, warm fingers callused from years of sailing. “If the situation is to be resolved,” he told her under his breath, “we shall resolve it together.” Those fingers tightened. “Now.”

“Sir Noah, I cannot possibly address the matter now. My nieces are here, and without my supervision there’s no contemplating what might befall them. I’ve left them to their own devices too long already. It
has
been good to see you again, Sir Noah. Do call on Elias again tomorrow, and perhaps he will be well enough to receive you.”

“Ah, Joseph.” He smiled at her in a way that sent shivers careening across her skin. “Perhaps I haven’t made myself clear. Here is what is about to happen. You will beg an emergency, leaving your nieces in the charge of any number of perfectly capable chaperones who will see them safely home. We will order your coach and go to Elias’s, where he will either have returned, in which case we will confirm the state of his health once and for all, or he will still be away, in which case we will stay until he returns.” Those blue eyes skimmed over her face, flicked to her breasts. Glanced at her hands. “You are making a fist. Could it be you are not as calm as you pretend, Mr. Bentley?”