Never Trust a Scoundrel (9 page)

But he didn't attend musicales.

Still smiling sweetly, she pushed her heel hard into his toe, but all he did was grin.

Ruby glanced between the two of them, and Grace realized that they'd stopped speaking rather abruptly.

“So where are you taking me on our picnic?” Daniel asked, glancing out the window.

Grace saw the frown that slowly came over his face as he saw that they were no longer in Mayfair.

“It's a surprise,” she said.

“Quite.”

 

Miss Parker was a woman who obviously understood that for society ladies to help—and donate—they had to feel comfortable. The “picnic” was really a long row of tables set up in a littered park in Bethnal Green. As their carriage came to a stop, and Daniel opened the door, Grace could see a dozen ladies supervising servants as they unloaded wagons and carts filled with crates and covered cauldrons. Other servants wandered the edges of the park, trying to look unobtrusive, but they were obviously for security. Scores of people in threadbare clothing had already begun to gather around the edges of the park, holding the hands of excited children. Grace smiled. This was really a good cause and not just a way to make Daniel more accepted in Society.

But he
was
the only gentleman in attendance. As more and more ladies saw him walking toward
them at Grace's side, heads began to turn, and whispers were exchanged.

Miss Parker, after directing a group of men in the building of small cook fires, came to them when others hung back.

“Miss Banbury, I am so glad you were able to join us for such a worthwhile endeavor.” She glanced at Daniel. “But you did understand the purpose, did you not?”

“That it was to help London's deserving folk?” Grace asked brightly. “Of course! And when I mentioned to Mr. Throckmorten what we were doing today, he insisted on coming to help.”

Daniel bowed briefly to Miss Parker, who eyed him with surprise and amusement.

“Helping is not the only thing he's doing,” Miss Parker said, glancing meaningfully at Grace.

Grace pretended not to understand. “Pardon me?”

Miss Parker obviously thought that Daniel was only trying to impress Grace. Maybe she'd tell the other ladies the same thing. All of which would help them believe that Daniel finally had softer emotions.

To her surprise, Daniel left them and went to assist the men unloading the wagons. As Grace helped set out plates and cups, she couldn't help watch with the rest of the shocked ladies as Daniel hoisted a keg of beer onto his shoulders, heedless of his expensive frock coat, and carried it across the field.

“My, my,” said one woman, who fanned herself so briskly that everyone around her laughed.

“He is really trying to impress you, Miss Banbury,” Miss Parker said.

Young ladies and old all looked between Grace and Daniel, and Grace hoped they saw the marrying potential in him rather than a man who collected a string of mistresses. What man of their acquaintance would help the poor with the sweat of his brow rather than just a check?

Grace felt pleased with her accomplishment as an hour wore on and the food was served. Needy Londoners moved down the line holding their tin plates, and thanking each woman with appreciation for a ladle of stew or another piece of bread. Grace saw several ladies looking rather faint at the disreputableness of some of their guests, but everyone continued to do her part. Daniel stood with several male servants, pouring tankards of beer to set on the table near them. He had removed his coat, and his shirt seemed so white and…bare. She couldn't hear what he said, but there was much laughter. He fit in so easily, as if he'd been raised on the streets rather than in a duke's palatial home.

Had he become good at fitting in because he'd had to do so much of it when he was young? She thought again of him at eight, his father dead so suddenly, his mother accused. Had he even realized what was going on? Or had that come later, with age and the cruelty of other children?

Since he easily took charge of any situation, she imagined that he'd tried to help his mother, who was shocked and grieving. He still cared about her feelings, when it had all happened over twenty years ago. She found herself curious to meet his mother.

As the luncheon attendance began to dwindle, and people were scattered at tables and seated on blankets eating, Grace saw a pair of young ladies stroll casually by the beer stand. They made it a point to talk to one of the servants, while trying not to eye Daniel too obviously. He looked amused, and then glanced up to find Grace watching him.

Oh, dear. Before she could even look away, he'd raised a beer tankard to her.

“He is such a disreputable man,” a woman said in a low, angry voice.

Grace turned around to find a woman of middle age, her white gloves still pristine, where Grace had long since removed hers. She wore the black of mourning. She was speaking to another of similar age, but both stared obviously at Grace. They must have meant to be overheard.

And Grace couldn't help herself. “But he is here today, giving of his time, is he not?”

“Young lady, you don't know who I am, do you?” said the first woman.

Grace opened her mouth, but the woman went on quickly.

“I am Lady Swarthbeck, cousin to the earl of Martindale.” She lifted one eyebrow imperiously.

Grace realized that she referred to the earl who had just sold his ancestral land to Daniel.

“Good afternoon, Lady Swarthbeck,” she said politely. “I am Miss Banbury.”

“I know who you are, girl. Mrs. Radburn told me about your sympathy for Throckmorten. I assure you, it is misplaced.”

“I believe that—”

“If I had known that
someone
would have temerity to bring
him
to this honest gathering, I never would have come.”

“But we are all so needed here,” Grace said softly.

The woman drew herself up even higher, bosom thrust forward on her broad chest. “Do not instruct your betters, girl. You are ignorant of all that has gone on.”

Grace wanted to debate that, but knew that Lady Swarthbeck wasn't the sort of woman who could hold a rational conversation right now, after being hurt by her cousin's actions. Grace felt sorry for her. But her cousin was the one she should scold.

Lady Swarthbeck turned away in a huff and marched toward the beer stand. She took hold of the arms of the young ladies still flirting with Daniel and pulled them away.

Grace couldn't hear all that was said, except for something about “few morals,” and “a blight on good society.”

Gritting her teeth, Grace took a step toward them, and then found herself restrained by Miss Parker.

“Miss Banbury, do not make this worse,” Miss Parker said softly. “The day has been a success. Let others confront their problems elsewhere.”

Grace nodded absently, all of her focus on Lady Swarthbeck and Daniel. Daniel said something in a low voice, and the noblewoman simply turned her back and walked away. So much for all the members of Society accepting Daniel.

Grace had begun this plan to “redeem” Daniel merely to quell her brother's suspicions of the real terms of the challenge between Daniel and her. But she'd found Daniel's childhood sympathetic, and thought that some of his reputation stemmed from family scandal over which he'd had no control. Of course, that did not excuse his treatment of women.

Originally, she'd been so confident in her ability to resist him that rejecting his attempts had been a game to her—exciting and dangerous and thrilling.

She still knew she could win, but each time she was alone with him, her tenuous grasp on control slipped a little more.

And now she felt sympathetic toward him. Perhaps she could end this challenge feeling better about what she'd accomplished—besides rejecting him.

He suddenly looked right at her, and she didn't look away.

She was a fool; she should run, salvage her pride while she still had some. But she didn't want to.

What if she really could redeem the duke's scandalous cousin?

A
s the sun beat down on Daniel's shoulders, and he heard the coarse voices of the men around him, he found himself caught in the spell of Grace's serious, intent regard.

What was she thinking in that devious mind of hers?

She'd seen Lady Swarthbeck's cut, and she couldn't be surprised that Daniel was rejected by Society after the things he'd done.

Then Grace turned away and set about helping a young mother with three children. Grace took the babe from her arms so that the woman could help the others with their plates. Soon Grace had a smudge on her bodice, and a lock of light brown hair had tumbled out of its restraint.

She had certainly outwitted him this afternoon. He'd thought to have an intimate picnic—or at least the kind where they could find themselves alone quite easily.

But not here in the middle of Bethnal Green, a neighborhood of dubious character.

What had been her purpose bringing him here?
It couldn't be just a distraction from his pursuit of her. She could have accomplished that quite easily by doing this without him.

But she'd invited him. Had it been a challenge, to see how he'd handle himself? Did she assume he'd scandalize himself further by rejecting such an unusual outing?

But no, that didn't make sense with what he knew about her. He watched her smile at the poor woman she was helping, the way she looked tenderly down at the babe wrapped in no better than rags. She found a clean blanket for him at the table filled with used clothing and goods.

She seemed a pure, good woman. How had she turned out that way, raised by an unscrupulous gambler of a mother?

She was volunteering her time helping people, when her own home was bare, and she probably couldn't have fed herself without Daniel's intervention.

He finally turned away to lift the next keg into place and begin pouring. He wanted her in his bed. She was a different sort of woman than his usual mistresses, and the challenge had given him new purpose.

At the end of the afternoon, after everything had been cleaned and reloaded on wagons—and Grace had insisted they remain until the end—Daniel donned his coat and escorted her and her maid back to his waiting carriage.

When they were settled on the plush benches, the two women facing forward, and Daniel across
from them, he watched the satisfied expression on Grace's face. But he made her wait a half hour into their journey before he spoke.

“Did you accomplish everything you'd hoped, Miss Banbury?” he asked.

“All of our guests seemed well pleased with the feast,” she said, smiling. “My thanks for all of your help.”

“Even though I was not asked or informed.”

He saw the maid glance suspiciously between them.

“I knew you'd want to be a part of such a charitable cause,” Grace said.

“I do many things that are charitable. I keep dealers and servers employed.”

She rolled her eyes, and he thought the maid's lips twitched with amusement, but she was stoically doing her duty by trying to pretend she wasn't there.

“And although I admire the efforts of Miss Parker and all of the ladies,” he continued, “such charities only relieve suffering temporarily and do not help with the root cause.”

She frowned at him. “But it is something we women can do, because we cannot affect the political course of our nation.”

“Not yet anyway,” he said dryly. “But a different age is dawning, where men are more equal and are judged by what they accomplish for society's good, not how they were socially born.”

“Are you including women?” she asked with disbelief.

“Of course. Women like Miss Parker want to be heard—and someday they probably will be.”

“It may be a new age, Mr. Throckmorten, but the suffering is only increasing for those with no choice but to work in your new factories.”

“
My
factories?”

“I'm including you with all the members of your sex.”

“If you want to know of which you speak, you should tour one of my factories. I do not tolerate children working, nor do I allow adults to work in unsafe conditions or for long hours.”

“My, aren't you enlightened,” she said, giving a rueful smile.

“I try.”

“So that is why you are far too busy with your investments than to do your duty to your family and marry.”

“I have no duty in regards to marriage, Miss Banbury. That is for my cousin Madingley to worry about.”

“Are you not his heir, Mr. Throckmorten?”

“So you know the family tree so well?”

He saw the blush rosying her cheeks.

“People talk, sir,” she said. “And no, I don't know much about all your relatives.”

“Then let me tell you something that you can admire about me,” he said, leaning toward her, forearms on his knees. “Naturally, I give monetary contributions to worthy charities.”

She leaned forward as well and gave him a polite smile. “How easy for you.”

The maid was openly fascinated now and watched as if they were a performing a play for her amusement.

“And I do something on a much more personal level as well.”

Something in her expression changed, grew more focused, and much to his pleasure, she licked her lips. “Do tell.”

“I read to the blind.”

She blinked her eyes, and then sat back with a flounce, crossing her arms beneath her lovely breasts. “You don't need to tease me.”

“I'm not teasing. Someday I will prove it to you.”

Her maid glanced out the window, then cleared her throat. “We've come to the town house, miss.”

“Thank you for noticing, Ruby,” Grace said. “I might have sat here far too long listening to Mr. Throckmorten recount fanciful stories.”

He grinned. “You'll regret your disbelief, Miss Banbury. I promise to demonstrate my charitable activities quite soon.”

The door was opened from the outside and the stairs lowered by his coachman. Grace pointedly looked at Daniel, waiting for him to get out first.

“Tell me one more thing, Miss Banbury,” he said. “Today you must have been showing me off to your new Society friends. And the other night, you wanted me to dance before them all as well. Why?”

“Why?” she echoed, trying to seem surprised.

He didn't believe it. “Are you trying to marry me off to some unsuspecting young lady? Your attempts will not stop my…courtship of you.”

Wide-eyed, she made a little snort in her nose, an aborted laugh. “I would never do that to an unsuspecting young lady, Mr. Throckmorten.”

He sat back on his bench and frowned, studying her so deliberately, hoping to discomfort her. She didn't break, but after several moments, her maid sighed loudly.

At last Daniel descended from the carriage and helped both of them down to the pavement. He took Grace's gloved hand and bent over it.

“Thank you for the pleasant day, Miss Banbury,” he said softly.

She pulled away and gave him a perfunctory smile. “You're welcome, Mr. Throckmorten. I hope the lesson was not lost on you.”

“Only time will tell.”

He watched her walk up the stairs and disappear inside the town house. Right now he was in the mood to follow her inside and use a man's intimate persuasion to find out what she was up to. But damn, he'd hired those bothersome servants.

 

When Ruby and Grace were safely inside the town house, Ruby turned to stare at Grace, hands on her hips.

“And what was that about, miss?” the maid demanded in an exasperated voice. “Are ye playin' a dangerous game with that man?”

“I already told you, Ruby,” Grace answered softly. “It's all part of the plan to redeem him.”

“It seems all part of a plan to stay near him, if ye ask me.”

Grace threw up her hands, even as a hidden part of her knew that Ruby was right. “How can I redeem him if we're never together? Just think how the
ton
will talk now that he has gone with the ladies on a charitable mission.”

“They'll just think he's after somethin', like any man.”

Before she could say more, Mrs. Woodley, plump and efficient, came down the hallway from the rear of the house.

“Good afternoon, Miss Banbury,” the housekeeper said. “Will you be having dinner at home this evening?”

“Yes, Mrs. Woodley, thank you, although I will be going out again to a musicale this evening.”

“But not with that Mr. Throckmorten,” Ruby said to Mrs. Woodley. “He doesn't go to 'em.”

“What a shame, but not surprising,” said the woman, nodding with sympathy, then heading back toward the kitchen.

Grace followed her down the corridor, knowing Ruby trailed behind. “What do you know, Mrs. Woodley?”

The woman leaned against the worktable in the kitchen, where she was rolling out dough. “Surely you know about his parents, Miss Banbury. Besides the rumors of murder, they're the sedate branch of the family—they don't like music any
more. The rest of the Cabots always have something wild going on. Their house parties in the country are legendary.”

If the woman wanted to gossip, Grace was glad to talk. “Mr. Throckmorten doesn't seem the type to have such a family.”

“Oh, not him, miss. Mr. Throckmorten is an only child, you see. But his mother's sister married this professor, and there was a scandal about dead bodies and his research and—” She broke off, looking worried. “Am I saying too much, miss?”

“Of course not,” Grace said quickly, propping her chin on her laced fingers. “I'm so new to London that I know nothing about the
ton.
”

“Well, the professor and Lady Rosa, Mr. Throckmorten's uncle and aunt, have a son and two daughters. The duke's father had his own scandal, of course. On his Grand Tour, he married a Spanish girl, common and everything.”

“That's not so scandalous, compared to murder and research on dead bodies,” Grace said, smiling.

“Well, no, but she's the duchess, and that has never set well with some of the finer folk. She has a son, the current duke, and a daughter, too, so that Mr. Throckmorten has a lot of cousins. Someone is always hosting a party at Madingley House.”

“Does Mr. Throckmorten go?” Ruby asked.

Grace should have shushed her, but she wanted to hear the answer, too.

“Sometimes,” Mrs. Woodley said, using her rolling pin in smooth strokes over the dough. “Or so I hear.”

Slowly, Grace began, “Are they all…happy as a family?”

She couldn't help but think of Daniel as an eight-year-old, his father dead, with no siblings to share his grief.

“They're close, miss, and care for each other. But that Mr. Throckmorten has always done things on his own.”

Grace nodded. She didn't need anyone to tell her that. He was a man who did what he wanted, whether gambling against women, skirting the line between being a gentleman and a new man of industry—or targeting the next woman he planned to conquer. And now his focus was on her, and though she fought her feelings, she relished his attentions.

She remained in the kitchen for a few more minutes, watching Mrs. Woodley work. Ruby gathered up several irons to begin pressing Grace's gown for the evening. Instead of a bare, echoing tomb, the town house felt more like a home again since the servants had come. She couldn't help but be relieved they were here, and not just for their invaluable help. They were also protection against Daniel's thinking he could visit whenever he wanted, hoping to catch her alone. She told herself to be satisfied they were interfering with his plans, but she gritted her teeth in disgust, knowing that part of her was a bit disappointed.

 

When the musicale was over, Grace felt relieved. It wasn't that Lady Barlow's daughters weren't talented, but her mind was distracted by thoughts of Daniel. He had not gambled last night—surely tonight that was where he'd be.

And she was bothered by it.

He should be here, appreciating the music. She wondered, with two gifted musicians for parents, if he played an instrument himself? Or had he once, but given that up?

She was so preoccupied, that as she waited for the hackney coach she'd hired to pull up, it took her a moment to hear someone calling her name.

Finally, the word penetrated her fuzzy brain, and she looked around. Although several guests were climbing into their carriages, or talking as they waited, no one seemed to be looking at her. So who—

“Grace!”

She whirled around at the whisper, but there was only shrubbery behind her. Then someone caught her arm and pulled her through. Before she could even be frightened, she found herself face-to-face with Daniel.

She gaped at him. “Lurking in the shrubbery seems beneath you!”

“Shh! I paid off your hackney driver, and no one else was paying attention.”

“But—”

“You should be more careful,” he said, frowning, still holding her hand. He began to walk down the
length of the house and into the courtyard behind, talking over his shoulder. “You were lingering too far away from the safety of the other guests.”

“Well, that certainly worked in your favor.”

There were streaks of light through the darkness from the lit windows of the house, and she could see the gleam of his white teeth as he grinned back at her.

“It did,” he said.

“So what do you intend to do with me?”

They were in the courtyard now, moving down gravel paths, skirting foliage and flowers.

“I intend to escort you safely home,” he said, unlatching a gate in the rear wall.

“What if my maid is back there waiting for me?”

“You didn't bring her.”

“Have you been spying on me?” she demanded, not really angry. This was a contest, after all.

“I only watched you waiting for your hackney. She would have been with you. Tonight I was lucky.”