The Scandal in Kissing an Heir Page 7

  “You mustn’t distress yourself so much until there is cause to do so. It is clear that Mr. Neville is determined to win your hand. Why not give him a chance to prove himself without doubting his capabilities? Trust him, my lady. I’m sure he’ll find a way to make you his. Come, why don’t you work a bit on your watercolors? They always seem to lift your spirits whenever you’re feeling out of sorts.”

  “You are by far the best maid a lady could wish for, Laura.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Walking over to the table, she poured a cup of tea and brought it over to Rebecca. “Two days isn’t so long. He’ll be back soon enough, and then everything will be resolved.”

  The thought of seeing Mr. Neville again filled Rebecca’s mind, and she allowed a smile to surface as a warm feeling of anticipation settled over her. She looked forward to his next visit and to discovering what on earth he could possibly have done to change her uncle’s mind.

  Chapter 6

  Thirteen thousand pounds. It was an outrageous sum of money by any standard, but Lord Grifton had shown no sign of remorse when he’d mentioned it to Daniel. He had simply spoken the number with a careless abandon as if it had been his due. And Daniel had accepted the challenge. He spurred his horse onward, determined to make it to London before it was too late in the day. How the hell he was going to obtain so much money when his own coffers were practically depleted he couldn’t say. But he knew that he had to at least try, because if he was certain of anything at all, it was that he desperately wanted to make Lady Rebecca his.

  Christ! The very thought of her having to share a bed with Topperly or Grover turned his stomach. When they’d walked in the garden at Kingsborough Hall, there had been a spark in her eyes, but that had significantly dwindled between then and today, as if she’d now resigned herself to her fate. Somehow he had to find the means to save her. Never in his life had he seen a woman more beautiful than she. He longed to run his fingers along her smooth skin, skin that looked tanned and healthy rather than pale and sickly, as was customary among the ton. And her hair! Lord, he couldn’t ignore his constant urge to pull it free of its fastenings and watch it cascade over her shoulders . . . sleek as rich black satin.

  But when he’d complimented her on her looks, she’d looked apprehensive. She’d made an attempt to cover it with a smile, but he’d seen the doubt in the depths of her eyes. For whatever reason, Lady Rebecca had no idea that Mother Nature had blessed her with an abundance of beauty. Her dark brown eyes framed by thick black lashes, high cheekbones, a delicate jawline and full lips that reminded him of rose petals should have been the envy of every woman. And then there was her figure. Daniel winced at the sudden discomfort that overtook him at just thinking about the fullness of her breasts, her slim waistline and the curve of her hips. But none of this would have been enough to inspire the sort of lust he felt for her had it not been for the clever rejoinders and wit that she’d shared with him at the ball. Since then, he’d been unable to get her out of his mind, the most alluring thoughts of her driving him mad with need.

  Daniel was not so dishonest that he would lie to himself about his intentions regarding Lady Rebecca. As far as potential wives went, she was sure to make a good companion, but that said, there was absolutely no doubt that he meant to seduce her. To do so, however, he would have to convince her of how lovely she really was, because while she put on a confident front, Daniel sensed a great deal of uncertainty beneath the surface. He wondered what might have caused it and decided that her aunt and uncle were probably to blame—if not entirely, then at least in part. Daniel cursed the pair of them for trying to break a woman who should have been given the chance to shine like a star.

  After spending much of the following day discussing the issue with his uncle, Daniel was forced to acknowledge that he’d get no help from that quarter. Burying his pride, he called on a few friends, hoping that one of them might be able to assist, but just as he’d thought, none of them was in possession of that kind of money.

  It was early evening when Daniel eventually made his way over to his sister’s residency on Berkeley Square and hurried up the steps of Chilton House.

  “You look as though you’ve just raced across the English countryside,” his sister said as she greeted him in the parlor. “But then I don’t suppose I ought to be surprised. You always were a wild one.”

  “It’s good to see you too, Audrey,” Daniel said as he went to kiss her on the cheek. “Please forgive the late hour. I hope I’m not disturbing you or the rest of the family.”

  “Not at all, Daniel. Michael has yet to return from White’s, and Ralph is in the nursery with his nanny. So you see, I am free to discuss whatever’s on your mind, and besides, it’s been far too long since I last saw you.” Once she was seated, he placed himself in an armchair across from her. Pouring them each a cup of tea, she said, “To what do I owe the pleasure?”

  “I don’t suppose you’ve heard of Uncle’s latest request?”

  When she shook her head, he began relating everything that had happened over the past two weeks. She didn’t interrupt him once, though her eyes did reflect both surprise and interest at certain parts of the story. “He’s given you quite the challenge,” she said after taking a moment to digest it all. “And given your less than stellar reputation, I’m not sure how on earth you plan to fulfill his wishes. Then again, I suppose it was to be expected with you being the heir—you have to come up to scratch at some point.” She spoke matter-of-factly and without sounding the least bit judgmental, for which Daniel was grateful.

  “Yes, but to give me only a month is unreasonable, don’t you think?”

  At this she nodded. “Although I have to say that Lady Rebecca sounds like a lovely woman and just the sort who’d make you an excellent wife.”

  “I couldn’t agree with you more,” he said, “which is part of the reason why I’m here.”

  Audrey smiled. “I knew it wasn’t merely because you missed me.”

  They’d never been very close, their lack of shared interests building rarely overlapping paths. Where Daniel had gotten into scrapes, his arm broken twice and his leg once, Audrey had always been the obedient daughter who’d sat quietly in a corner doing needlework, reading poetry or working on her watercolors. She played the pianoforte and the violin as well as any well-bred young lady ought to, and her manners were impeccable.

  Daniel, on the other hand, had always been a bit rough around the edges—not that he didn’t know how to behave, for he could be just as suave and elegant as the rest of them, perhaps more so when he set his mind to it. But when the chance to race or gamble or, heaven forbid, accept a dare to swim naked in the Serpentine after nightfall had presented itself, he’d always found it hard to resist.

  And then of course there had been the women. He was young though and refused to apologize for his appetite in that department, particularly when he hadn’t deflowered anyone and the women themselves had practically begged him to take them to bed. Yes, he’d flirted with a few young innocents, but it had only been for show, a bit of a kick in the shin for the ton that he so despised. When would they learn that they weren’t in the least bit superior when it came to morality, gossiping about each other the way they did, committing adultery behind closed doors, snubbing anyone who didn’t dress with just the right amount of flair or wore a color that had said adieu to fashion the previous week?

  Never would be the answer to that question.

  “The Griftons will only allow me to marry her if I am able to pay them thirteen thousand pounds.”

  At this, Audrey leaned back in her chair, her eyes fixed on Daniel. She took a deep breath, then exhaled it. “That is a rather exorbitant amount.”

  “I know. Naturally, I would never even think to ask you if I knew that I would be able to seek help elsewhere, but there is none other than you and Uncle who might be able to lend me such a large sum. I went to Uncle first
, hoping that he would assist, since I’m trying to do as he asked, but he refused. He wants me to find a way to resolve the issue on my own, even if that means abandoning all hope of marrying Lady Rebecca, which I cannot.”

  “She has clearly affected you greatly,” Audrey said, her words softly spoken and pensive.

  “More than you can possibly know. Indeed, I cannot think of anything but her.”

  “And this eagerness of yours to make her your bride, is it for her benefit as much as it is yours?”

  “Of course it is,” Daniel said. “She’ll be free from the Griftons and from having to marry Topperly or Grover.”

  “What I am asking, Daniel, is whether you have her best interests at heart and are doing this partly because you wish to rescue her, or if your only motivation is to maintain your allowance.”

  “I . . .” Daniel began. “I don’t enjoy seeing her distressed and ill-treated. While it will not be a love match, her happiness is important to me, and I believe that I will make her happier than either Topperly or Grover.”

  Audrey nodded but said nothing further. Instead, she rose to her feet and walked across to her escritoire, took a seat, placed a piece of paper in front of her and dipped her quill in the ink pot. “Michael will never give you such a large sum,” she said as she began to write. “He thinks you too untrustworthy, given your spending habits.”

  Daniel’s heart fell. He liked his brother-in-law well enough and even admired the ease with which he seemed to run his estates. His sister had done well by marrying him, for he was the sort of man who took care of his finances, nurtured them and watched his investments profit.

  After scribbling a few more lines, Audrey put her quill aside, folded the piece of paper neatly, then closed it with a seal depicting a bird in flight. She turned in her seat and offered the missive to Daniel. “But I will.”

  Dumbfounded by her generosity, Daniel slowly picked the paper from her hand.

  “In my letter,” she said, “I have assured the Griftons that if they allow Lady Rebecca to marry you, I will supply them with the funds that they require.”

  Daniel stared at her. “I had no idea you were so independently wealthy.”

  She tilted her head. “Part of it is from my dowry, which was substantial. When Michael and I married, he and Uncle drew up a settlement that was entirely to my benefit. I was given full access to all of my funds and was granted additional pin money from Michael. Since I’m not a frivolous spender, I’ve set most of that aside with the intention of saving it for the future.”

  Daniel frowned. “Surely it is not necessary for you to be so careful.”

  Audrey chuckled lightly. “It is no secret that women are at a disadvantage in our day and age, forever under the foot of one man or other. Should Michael and I ever be blessed with a daughter, I would like to leave her with something that belongs to nobody but her—to do with as she pleases. Which is why you must promise that you will repay this loan to me one day.”

  Daniel stared down at the folded piece of paper. He swallowed hard, his chest tightening with the understanding of the sacrifice his sister was making on his behalf, and the extraordinary level of trust she was placing in him. “I will not fail you,” he said. “You have my word on it.”

  Chapter 7

  “Would you care for a game of cards, my lady?” Laura asked two days later.

  Rebecca shrugged. She’d been feeling miserable all day. Not just from her shoulder wound, which still pained her, but from the hopelessness she felt at the thought of what awaited her. Mr. Neville still hadn’t returned, and Rebecca had begun losing hope that he would.

  Laura, who was making a clear effort to be more positive, had told her that he could have been delayed by any number of things. But even if he did return, who was to say that her aunt and uncle wouldn’t turn him away? They might do it just to spite her. She certainly wouldn’t put it past them—especially not her aunt. She could well imagine her taking perverse pleasure in seeing Rebecca married off to an old relic. It was disheartening.

  “How about a play?” Laura continued. “We could reenact Twelfth Night. I know how much you love that piece.”

  Rebecca forced a smile. “True. It always makes me laugh.” She paused as she met Laura’s hopeful expression, then nodded. “Very well, Twelfth Night it is.”

  They had just started on act five, scene one, with Laura saying, “Be quiet, people. Wherefore throng you hither?” when a soft tapping sound came from the window. Both women turned to stare. “Did you hear that, my lady?” Laura asked.

  “It’s probably just a bird,” Rebecca said, eager to get on with the play. They were getting to her favorite part. “To fetch my poor distracted husband hence,” she continued. “Let us —”

  Tap, tap, tap.

  “Whatever it is, it’s really quite distracting,” Rebecca said, hands folded in her lap as she stared toward the window. Since it was late evening and dark outside, it was impossible for her to discern the source of the noise from her current position, especially with oil lanterns and a fire lighting her room.

  “I’ll just have a look, shall I?” Laura said as she walked across to the window and looked out. She must have been unable to see anything, for she leaned closer, so close that her face was almost pressed up against the glass. There was a beat, and then she suddenly pulled back with a shriek.

  Intrigued, Rebecca sat up a bit straighter. “What is it, Laura? What did you see?”

  Laura turned toward her, ashen-faced. “Do you believe in ghosts, my lady?” she asked, her voice shaky.

  Rebecca frowned. “Of course not, Laura.” Determined to investigate, she rose and tightened the sash of her dressing gown. “What is it with you? Ghosts indeed.”

  “Well, then perhaps you’d care to explain how a man might be levitating outside your window.”

  “A man what?” Skeptical but unwilling to dismiss Laura’s claim, considering how shaken she looked, Rebecca approached the window. She was certain that there had to be a logical explanation for this, but if there wasn’t and it was indeed a ghost, then she had every intention of seeing it for herself.

  “Do be careful, my lady,” Laura warned as Rebecca went closer.

  It wasn’t until she was all the way to the window and blocking some of the light from the room with her body that Rebecca finally caught a glimpse of a blurry face. She flinched a little but quickly regained her composure and continued her approach until the face sharpened around a pair of familiar eyes. Lord help her if it wasn’t Mr. Neville. How he’d gotten up there she dared not imagine, but her heart made a funny little leap at finding him returned. He had not forgotten about her after all.

  Feeling almost giddy with the pleasure of her discovery, she undid the latch and opened the window just enough for her to pop her head outside. “Good evening, Mr. Neville,” she said, amazed by how nonchalant her voice sounded—as if his standing there perched on one of the last rungs of a rickety ladder had been the most natural thing in the world. “How are you doing?”

  “Quite well,” he said, smiling up at her. “As you can see, I’m having a bit of an adventure.”

  “Oh, is that what this is?” A bit of choked-back laughter from below drew her attention to two men holding the ladder steady. “And I see that you’ve brought friends with you.”

  “Mr. Shaw and his son Gerard,” Mr. Neville said as he let go of the ladder with one hand and waved toward the men below.

  “Pleased to meet you,” Rebecca called down to them.

  “Shh!” Mr. Neville quieted her. “It took a lot of effort for me to accomplish this feat. I’d rather not ruin it so soon by being found out.”

  “Is that so?” Rebecca asked. She finally allowed herself a smile—one of pure mischief. “And what exactly would you expect me to do upon discovering a dangerous intruder at my window?”

  “Dangerous, eh?�
� One of Mr. Neville’s eyebrows shot up.

  “Terrifying,” Rebecca said, her face once again serious to underscore the sarcasm.

  “I don’t suppose a cup of tea is likely?”

  The absurdity of Mr. Neville standing there on that ladder in the cold, looking up at her imploringly as he asked to be invited for tea, made it impossible for Rebecca to keep a straight face. Grinning back at him, she shook her head with resignation. “What about Mr. Shaw and his son? What will they do while they wait for you?”

  The look on Mr. Neville’s face suggested that this was a part of the plan he hadn’t considered. Turning slightly, he looked down at their upturned faces. “I don’t suppose I could convince you to come back and fetch me in an hour?” he asked.

  “Add a couple of shillings and we’ll be happy to,” Mr. Shaw told him.

  Mr. Neville looked back at Rebecca. “Move aside, please, my lady. I’m coming in.”

  Given his size, Rebecca had to admit that she was quite impressed with how nimbly Mr. Neville entered her room through the window, landing on his feet with the stealth of a cat.

  “My lady, this is highly irregular,” Laura said from somewhere behind Rebecca’s right shoulder. “I realize that you mean to marry him, but to invite a gentleman into your bedchamber . . . it’s scandalous, not to mention the punishment that will likely befall us all if your aunt and uncle find out.”

  Rebecca turned toward her maid with a smile. “But they won’t find out, Laura. Besides, this is hardly any worse than you suggesting that I drugged you so I could escape your care and attend the ball. Yes, it may be unconventional, it’s true, but you’re here to protect my virtue.”