Never Trust a Scoundrel (24 page)

Daniel felt surprised that Banbury was relaxing his opinion. “Obviously, she doesn't want my protection, or she'd have told me what was going on.”

“Then I think you need to insist.”

Daniel hesitated. “And I have your permission?”

Banbury met his gaze with an impassive one. “For this. We'll take it on a case-by-case basis.”

Daniel's amusement was short-lived. He nodded to Banbury and moved away. Jenkins was glued to Grace's side, so Daniel would have to wait until
Grace left him, so as not to arouse suspicions. And he didn't want to have a conversation with her in front of all the guests. He needed someone as a distraction.

He stole Chris away from a disappointed young lady and her mother, pulling his cousin out into the corridor.

“Am I rescuing you or annoying you?” Daniel asked.

“Luckily, the former,” Chris said, smiling. “Is something wrong?”

“Talk with me here in the corridor. I'm waiting for Grace to come out here alone.”

Chris arched a brow, and said mildly, “Then you're not escaping the attentions of so many women? Miss Banbury told me she could give you references on the suitability of several of them.”

“
What?
” Daniel realized he'd spoken too loudly when two gentlemen on the way to the library gave him strange looks. “Tell me everything she said to you.”

“She thought I should encourage you to return to music.”

Daniel closed his eyes and groaned.

“And then she offered names of young ladies.”

“That's all?”

“It seemed quite a lot to me. I rather believe she's fond of you, Daniel, and you seem to be so of her.”

“Grace's offering to find me a bride is fondness?”

“Hoping that you'll find happiness seems to involve a sacrifice on her part,” Chris said softly, “as if she's decided your happiness can't be with her. I'm rather impressed with her selflessness. I see I was wrong about her.”

But Daniel ignored him as Grace herself left the far drawing room, her head bent, her pace quick. He left Chris without a word and followed her, taking her elbow before she could open the door to the ladies' retiring room. She trembled and looked up at him in true fear, and for a moment, he didn't know how to respond, but the relief and then wariness in her face brought him back to himself—and his anger.

He dragged her toward the back of the house, to the first empty room he could find. A small lamp was burning, and by the delicate sofa and ornate desk, he guessed it was Mrs. Bradley's morning room. Daniel closed the door, and when he saw a key in the lock, he turned it.

Grace gasped.

Instead of showing outrage, she flung herself at him. He fell back against the door in surprise, his arms full of warm, soft woman and yards of delicate fabric. She pulled his head down and kissed him, saying nothing, expressing her longing and passion with her moist mouth and soft moans.

And he was almost overcome.

But not quite. Some logical part of his brain rose amidst the hungry chorus of lust and protested her motives.

And then her hand was on his trouser buttons
as if she would disrobe him in Mrs. Bradley's morning room.

He grabbed her shoulders and held her away, feeling like it was his turn to swoon. “Grace, stop this at once!” he said in a soft yet firm voice. “You will not distract me.”

“I cannot express how much I've missed you?” she asked, fingering the buttons of his waistcoat enticingly.

“And now you have. It's my turn to express my displeasure over your conduct.”

“You don't want me kissing you?”

“I don't want you trying to distract me from my very justifiable anger. What are you doing here with Jenkins? And why did you not tell me that he'd contacted you?”

With a groan she pushed away from him, presenting her back, and prowled the room. “Daniel, this doesn't concern you any longer. You need to go find another woman to concentrate on.” The last seemed torn rawly from her throat.

“You've spent all this time trying to change me, first by my redemption in the eyes of society, then by music. And now you want me gone?”

“I don't want to change you anymore. You are perfectly good the way you are.”

He could have sworn she was holding back tears, but she was pacing, her head down. Some of his anger and hurt eased.

“Grace, tell me what is happening.”

She froze in the middle of the morning room, and at last she turned too-bright eyes on him.
“He's blackmailing me. He's going to tell everyone about the bet if I don't allow him to court me.”

Daniel inhaled sharply. If she loved him, wouldn't she have come to him for help? He thought he'd won her trust at last, but she couldn't trust him to keep her reputation safe. He realized that he was so hurt because he loved her.
I love her,
he thought again, in bewilderment and growing relief. This was love, to want Grace's happiness more than his own, to want to protect her regardless of whether it changed her opinion of him. This was love, he thought again, as the pain of her mistrust lanced even deeper into him. My God, if anyone deserved this punishment, it was he. But was he a fool to hope for something better?

“Grace—”

“No! You're going to try to be my gallant knight, and I won't have it! You've already done too much for me. I'm living in your house, on your money—”

“Your house. I've already put the deed back in your name.”

With a moan, she turned away from him and covered her face. “And did you want to make me feel like even more of a mistress?”

He threw his arms wide. “I wanted you to feel secure enough to stand on your own, to make decisions that weren't out of desperation. We can take on Jenkins. Let me help.”

He watched her head come up, her shoulders straighten, and when at last she faced him, her face was beautiful and too composed.

“No. Let me handle this, Daniel. I promise to come to you if I need help.”

He didn't believe her, but he knew he could not convince her of anything in the state she was in. She walked past him toward the door, very careful not to allow even the hem of her skirt to touch him as she passed. She unlocked the door and opened it, even remembering to look both ways before she left and closed the door behind her.

Daniel swore under his breath, wishing he could smash something. He vowed to find a way to convince her that he was worthy of her trust.

I
t was easy enough for Daniel to follow Jenkins's carriage through the London streets. From horseback, he watched Grace alight at the Banbury town house and hurry inside. Daniel waited tensely, wondering if Jenkins would be so bold as to follow her, but he didn't leave the carriage.

He followed Jenkins to his club, but knew that would be too public a place for a confrontation. So when the coachman opened the carriage door, Daniel appeared at his side, startling Jenkins, who froze in the doorway.

“Although we have not been properly introduced,” Daniel began pleasantly, “I am certain you know that I am Throckmorten.”

Jenkins nodded slowly.

“Then sit back down and have a private conversation with me.”

Jenkins glanced at his coachman, who stared between the two men uneasily.

“There is no need for caution,” Daniel said. “My good coachman, I will only be a few minutes, and
you can remain right beside the door. If you hear any unusual sounds, by all means, fling the door wide and whistle for a police officer.”

“As if he's supposed to call the law on a member of a ducal family?” Jenkins said with bluster.

Daniel smiled. “
We
give you permission,” he said, stressing the royal “we.”

He mounted the carriage steps, and Jenkins was forced to sit back.

Daniel took the bench opposite him, crossing an ankle over the other knee. “So you could not content yourself with only following Miss Banbury about town in a sulk because you did not win the card game.”

Though Jenkins was obviously nervous, he lifted his chin arrogantly. “What did she tell you?”

“I forced her to tell me that you were blackmailing her although she wanted to protect your sordid secret.”

“‘Blackmail' is a harsh word, Mr. Throckmorten. I explained to her that since only I truly wished to marry her, I'm the man she should be with.”

“And so that leaves her with no rights of her own?”

“She will see that I am doing my best to make her happy.”

“Oh, she looked very happy at Mrs. Bradley's home,” Daniel said sarcastically.

“She will be.”

Daniel leaned forward, satisfied when Jenkins seemed to shrink back in his seat. “Let me tell you
how things will be. If you breathe a word of Grace's troubles, you will incite sympathy for Grace, and I will make sure everyone knows that you're a blackmailer. You think you're on the fringe now, but I can put you out in the cold, as far as Society is concerned.”

“I don't care,” Jenkins blustered. “I spend little time in London.”

Daniel grabbed him by the cravat and twisted, so that it tightened at his throat. The man made a strangled gulp.

“I will make you care when I'm through with you. Stay away from Miss Banbury. Leave her in peace.”

Daniel flung Jenkins back in his seat, opened the door, and descended, straightening his coat sleeves. To the coachman, he said, “Thank you,” then walked down the street to where he'd left his horse tethered.

He went back to the Banbury town house, almost surprised the cook in the kitchen, and had to wait in the courtyard for another half hour before the kitchen went dark. At last he let himself in the back door, went up to Grace's room, and knocked so softly, he didn't think she'd be able to hear. But she flung the door wide and faced him, still wearing her evening gown. She pulled him inside and shut the door.

“I said I'd come to you if I need help,” she whispered with urgency.

“And I said I wanted to help. So I did. Jenkins will not bother you anymore.”

Her mouth fell open before she could collect herself. “I asked you to let me handle this!”

“And I told you that I needed to help. I was a part of that game; it's up to me to handle the consequences.”

“And I was the prize! I have a say, too. Did you threaten the man?”

“I did.”

With a groan, she dropped her head back.

“You're angry with me?” he demanded, advancing on her.

She didn't back away, only put her hands on her hips and faced him down.

“Let me see if I have this straight,” Daniel continued. “You're willing to trust a blackmailer not to betray you, rather than trust me to do what's necessary to help you. Did I ever have any of your trust?”

Her eyes widened. “Daniel, this isn't about trusting you! It's about learning to trust myself to solve my own problems.”

“You've been trusting yourself all along, Grace. Don't lie to me—or yourself. Why can't you trust someone else? Has watching your mother's weaknesses, and then seeing them appear in your brother, made you so convinced that you're the only competent adult?”

“Competent?” She pointed a finger at his chest. “I am hardly competent. I have my own weakness, you know, and it's men!”

“Men?” he demanded.

“Very well—you! You muddle my mind; you
make me do things I swore I never would. And now you're trying to convince me that only you know best. Well I won't have it! I want you to leave.”

Daniel stared at her, feeling his anger cool. She had a weakness for him? As if it were something bad?

Or as if it felt uncontrollable, like what she imagined a gambling fever felt like. He felt a little out of control where she was concerned himself. But she wouldn't want to hear that right now.

“I'll leave,” he said neutrally. “But this discussion isn't over.”

She said nothing, not even good night, when she closed the door behind him. He didn't imagine that Jenkins would try anything tonight, but Daniel stayed in the master suite just in case, not sleeping much, thinking about Grace.

Did that mean she loved him? Was he seeing their relationship the wrong way? Maybe it really was about trusting herself, and what she felt for him. It gave him much to think on.

 

After luncheon the next day, Jenkins returned. As Grace allowed Woodley to show him into the drawing room, she felt a little calmer, more in control. She could continue to allow his courtship for a while. She still hadn't come up with her own plan—and she blamed Daniel for that. Crying over him had kept her awake half the night, and she still hadn't recovered. She was feeling morose and confused, but she had to put that to the back of her mind.

Jenkins didn't even wait for her greeting as he closed the door and crossed the room to her. Her eyes narrowed as he took her hand and planted a wet kiss on the back.

“Mr. Jenkins!”

When she tried to pull away, he held tighter and turned her palm over as if he was going to kiss her again. And all she could think of was Daniel's dark head bent over her hand and the way she'd melted inside when he did so simple a thing as press his mouth there. She yanked harder and was free.

Jenkins's eyes narrowed. “You agreed to allow me to court you.”

“Courting and forcing your attentions on me are two different things. You will act like a gentleman, or you will leave.”

He glanced at the closed door, and it was as if she could read his thoughts on his face. He was wondering what he could get away with, feeling his power over her, and as with so many people, letting that power begin to corrupt him. He might have been a simple gentleman farmer, but now he was imagining that he could seduce her compliance.

Although part of her was affronted, another part knew that he was taller than she, and he might be able to overpower her. If she screamed, her servants would come running, and the situation could worsen. Servants talked to other servants. Secrets were difficult to keep in crowded London.

But she was getting ahead of herself, panicking at the calculating look in his eyes. What should she do?

And then Jenkins grasped her shoulders and pulled her to him clumsily.

“Let me kiss you,” he said against her cheek, after she turned her head aside.

“No! Unhand me! A gentleman does not—”

“I'm certain Throckmorten is no gentleman, so you must be used to rough treatment.”

Then he fondled her breast.

And in that moment, Grace's panic crystallized into a sense of melancholy calm. It was over. She would not hide the rest of her life over this. She could not give in and let him think he had power over her. And she would never consent to marrying a man like Jenkins. If Daniel could handle scandal, so could she.

She slapped Jenkins's face hard, and he gaped at her in surprise.

“How dare you risk angering me,” he snarled in a low voice. “I can tell everyone—”

“Then do it,” she said, putting space between them. “Prove yourself no gentleman, as you've already proved here. But I'm done with you.”

For a second she thought she'd caught him off guard, but his expression hardened. “I am not bluffing.”

“I'm not either, and I can bluff with the best of them. Do what you must with my secret, but remember how the telling of it will make you look.”

“And how will it make your precious Throckmorten look?”

She gave a cold laugh. “Like a hero to other men for winning a woman at a card game. You can't harm a man with his kind of power. You can only harm me—and yourself.”

He drew himself up. “I'll return tomorrow and we'll discuss this again.”

“We won't. I've made up my mind. I don't wish to see you again. Please leave.”

He spun in place and marched out the door, and only when he was gone did she sag back onto the sofa. She'd fought back; why didn't she feel more triumphant? She told herself that Jenkins wouldn't dare take on Daniel or risk facing the censure of Society. But she didn't know him well, and perhaps he didn't care about those things. Though she was shaking, she sensed it was a reaction to her escape. She was very glad she would be seeing Beverly tonight because she desperately needed a friend. Now all she could do was hope that Jenkins had a conscience.

 

That night was one of the highlights of the season—the Madingley Ball. The duke's aunt, Lady Rosa Leland, was his hostess. They graciously opened their London town house—it might as well have been a palace, Grace thought—to everyone from the cream of the
ton
to country gentry in town for the season.

She and Beverly sat in the Standish carriage, waiting in a long line as people disembarked
beneath the columned portico of the mansion a block away.

“You're very quiet,” Beverly said.

Grace glanced at her. The gas lamps outside framed Beverly's curious face against the rain-spattered window. “I'm sorry I'm not very good company tonight.”

“Is it because of Mr. Throckmorten?”

Grace smiled sadly. “Indirectly.”

“He seems to be at the center of much of what you do.”

“Not anymore.”

“Why not? I must admit, I thought for certain I would hear an engagement announcement from the two of you.”

Grace's throat felt so tight that she almost couldn't get words out. “No, things have quite fallen apart. Edward found out about the challenge, and he and Daniel fought.”

Beverly put a hand on hers. “Oh, Grace, I'm so sorry. But surely your brother calmed down. And isn't the challenge over now? It's been two weeks.”

With a slight hesitation, Grace said, “We extended the deadline.”

“Ah, surely that is proof that Mr. Throckmorten can't be apart from you.”

“I don't know, Beverly.”

“And you know, should anything go wrong, you could always move in with me until things improve for you and your brother.”

Grace was again blinking back tears. She was
so tired of crying. “Your kindness moves me, but that won't be necessary. Daniel put the town house in my name.”

“You own it?” she breathed.

Grace saw the way her happy expression turned hesitant.

“But…why?” Beverly asked.

Grace could not bear to tell her friend everything. “He wants me to feel secure, he wants me to trust him.”

“But isn't that wonderful?” Beverly asked plaintively.

“I'm being blackmailed by another of the gamblers, and I don't want Daniel to be stained by my reputation. Perhaps even you should steer clear of me tonight, Beverly. I refused to give in to the blackmailer's demands, so everything might come out.”

If Beverly were smart, she would take Grace's advice; instead, Grace found herself wrapped in a tight, warm hug.

“You poor dear. Do not believe I would ever abandon you in your hour of need. And neither will Daniel.”

“And that's the problem, Beverly!” she cried. “I asked him to let me handle this, and he thinks I don't trust him, but I just don't want him separated from his family because of me! He's just beginning to accept himself again.”

“You're wrong about him,” Beverly said, “but no one can convince you of that but yourself. Promise me you will think everything through before you act.”

“But I've already acted. I've stood up for myself. If I end up ostracized from Society, then so be it. But I won't drag Daniel down with me.”

“Even if he wants to be there?”

Grace could barely breathe, so tight was her chest. The carriage jerked forward, and she managed, “It's our turn. Here comes the footman.”

Beverly shook her head but said nothing as they both left the carriage.

Madingley House was ablaze with lights beneath the statues of warrior angels lining the roof. The full sound of the orchestra drifted out the front door as Grace and Beverly entered. They followed the line of slowly moving guests up the marble staircase that rose through the entrance hall. They passed impressive paintings the height and width of each wall as they circled up three floors to the ballroom, which took up an entire floor of the house. Huge carved columns supported a ceiling decorated in frescoes and paintings, and hung with massive crystal chandeliers.

Grace felt like the country miss she'd been raised as, so much did she gape at the luxurious surroundings. This was Daniel's way of life, a child and cousin of nobility. She felt small and inconsequential, so very out of her element. She would have turned around and fled, but that would only have made her a coward. She had to prove to Jenkins that she would not back down before his hollow—she hoped—threats.