Authors: Lynsay Sands
Lisa smiled at the memory of the man. Tall, with aquiline features and ice blond hair, Findlay had been very attractive. Unfortunately, Lisa had been so busy trying to watch Robert at the ball that she’d hardly paid any attention to the man other than to take note at the fine figure he cut. But perhaps he would be there again tonight and again ask her to dance. If so, she would pay more attention. She would force herself to if she had to, Lisa thought grimly.
She might even let him take her out on the terrace for air and allow him to kiss her so that she could see if he could stir any of those warm feelings Fanny had written about in her book. If he did . . . well, then, Robert could go hang for all she cared. She was no longer interested in showering her love and adoration on someone who didn’t appreciate it.
The slowing of the carriage drew Lisa’s attention then. She glanced to Bet. The other girl was suddenly sitting a little straighter on her bench, her expression more alert as the coach came to a halt. Lisa managed a reassuring smile for the girl, despite her own uncertainty that the maid’s presence would be welcomed by their host, and moved quickly to disembark when the driver opened the door.
She glanced around nervously as she waited for Bet to join her. Lisa was anxious over the possibility of being spotted and recognized, but needn’t have worried. The carriage wasn’t stopped in front of a house with a long walk, but had pulled up mere feet from a door in what appeared to be a back alley behind a building.
“In ye get,” the driver ordered gruffly, slamming the carriage door behind Bet and gesturing to the house before them. “Mrs. Morgan won’t be pleased does someone see you entering.”
Lisa bit her lip, but led Bet to the door and then quickly knocked.
“Just go in,” the man ordered grimly. “You’re expected.”
Lisa hesitated, but then sighed and reached for the knob, relieved when the door suddenly opened before her. Some of that relief was replaced with surprise when she was suddenly caught by the arm and dragged inside.
“Get in here, girl. Mrs. Morgan wouldn’t want you seen,” a large, older woman in the uniform of a cook said breathlessly as she drew her into the hot, dim kitchen. She started to close the door then, but paused as Bet scurried inside. “Well, what have we here?”
“My maid,” Lisa said quietly, beginning to think perhaps this visit hadn’t been a good idea after all.
The cook eyed Bet up and down, but then seemed to recall herself and quickly closed the door, saying, “Well ye’d best both go on through. I sent Gilly up to fetch Mrs. Morgan. She’ll be down in a minute no doubt. Yer to wait in the . . . er . . . parlor.” Turning back, she eyed the pair of them briefly again, and then gestured across the steamy room. “Through there and up the hall, last door on the right.”
Lisa hesitated, a frown catching at her lips, but caught it back when she saw that Bet too was frowning. This wasn’t at all the way visits for tea generally went in her experience, but then Mrs. Morgan wasn’t a member of the gentry. No doubt it was hard to get good servants when you couldn’t pay as well as members of the nobility did, and all of this was probably a very kind attempt on Mrs. Morgan’s part to prevent her from getting in trouble for coming. The older woman had proven to be very intelligent during their previous encounters and might realize Lisa’s visiting might be frowned on by her family.
Forcing a serene expression to her face, Lisa caught Bet’s arm and urged her across the room to the door the cook had gestured to.
“This ain’t right,” Bet hissed the moment they were out of the kitchen and moving up a long, dimly lit hall. “Ladies don’t have to be snuck in the back door of the homes of respected people. And they aren’t greeted by a surly, fat old woman in dirty clothes either. And—”
“Hush,” Lisa warned, but otherwise could hardly argue the point. This
was
highly unusual . . . and really, the cook
had
been surly and her clothes
were
filthy. Unsanitary, Lisa thought, and decided she would avoid eating any pastries or such that might be served with tea. Catching the rebellion growing in Bet’s expression, she whispered, “I’m sure Mrs. Morgan is just trying to protect me by slipping me through the back door.”
“If she was a decent woman there’d be no need to protect you,” Bet growled sharply.
Lisa frowned at the truth behind those words and felt a niggle of concern, but then sighed and said, “Well, we are here now. One tea and we shall leave, I promise. But we can hardly—”
“Ah, there you are. Gilly said you’d arrived. I had intended to be in the kitchen to greet you, but got held up.”
Lisa paused in the hall and glanced to the curving stairway and the dark-haired woman descending it. Some of her worry and nervousness eased just at the sight of Mrs. Morgan as she recalled the lovely visits they’d enjoyed in the country. Lisa smiled widely as the older woman reached the bottom of the steps and moved up the hall toward them.
“I was worried you wouldn’t be able to get away,” Mrs. Morgan said with a smile that faded as she spotted Bet. Slowing, she raised an eyebrow. “You brought a friend.”
“You remember Bet, my maid,” Lisa said and grimaced at the apology in her voice. “It seemed best to bring her along. Ladies don’t travel alone or—”
“Yes, of course.” Mrs. Morgan’s smile reappeared, wide and unconcerned. “Well, come along, the two of you then. We shall have tea and a nice long chat. It’s been ages since we last met, my dear.”
“Yes, it has,” Lisa agreed with a smile. All would be well.
“Y
ou do realize she’s in love with you?”
Robert grimaced at Daniel Woodrow’s words and tossed back his whiskey. Which merely made his grimace deepen. Sighing, he set his glass on the table and then glanced from the Earl of Woodrow to Richard Fairgrave, the Earl of Radnor, and asked with feigned ignorance, “Who?”
“Who?” Richard echoed dryly. “The young lady I just mentioned had come to town for the season. Lisa. Surely you recall her?” he added dryly. “The youngest sister to my wife, Christiana, and Daniel’s wife, Suzette. You grew up next door to them. Played with them when young. Are like a big brother to Christiana and Suzette, but are a hero to Lisa.”
Robert glanced around in search of one of the club servants, thereby avoiding the eyes of both of his companions. While he’d been in school with both men, he’d been a year or so behind them and hadn’t really known either of them well until Christiana and Suzette had got mixed up with the two men.
Although, he supposed,
mixed up
wasn’t quite the right term. Christiana had married Richard’s brother George while he was impersonating the Earl of Radnor. The man had hired scaliwags to murder his brother so he could take his place. Fortunately, the hired men had failed at their task and Richard had upheld the marriage when he’d managed to return to his life. The Earl and Christiana had fallen in love and theirs was a happy union.
As for Daniel and Suzette, Daniel was a close friend of Richard’s who, along with Robert, had stood by the pair and helped sort out the mess that George Fairgrave had created. That sorting had included uncovering a plot where George and two other lords were to marry the three sisters and thereby gain control of the rather large inheritance the Madison sisters had been left by their grandfather. Once the marriages had taken place, of course, the three sisters would have been expendable. Fortunately, they’d discovered the plot and put an end to it. Two of the three sisters had settled with husbands during the ordeal; Christiana with the real Richard Fairgrave, Earl of Radnor, and Suzette with his best friend, Daniel Woodrow, the Earl of Woodrow.
Daniel had been as helpless in the face of Suzette’s charms as Richard had been with Christiana, and Robert wasn’t at all surprised that the two couples were so blissfully happy together. He was glad for his old friends the sisters, and equally glad to make new friends in their husbands. Both Daniel and Richard had quickly become very good friends this last two years . . . and at times, friends could be a pain in the arse.
This was one of those times, he decided and merely muttered, “A silly schoolroom crush is all it is.”
Daniel gave a bark of disbelieving laughter. “A schoolroom crush? Lisa’s twenty-one, long out of the schoolroom.”
“Twenty-one?” he asked with surprise. It seemed like just days ago the chit had been chasing after him in pigtails, her skirts flying and adoring eyes on him with a serious case of hero worship. Where did the time go? he wondered, and then glanced to Richard when he spoke.
“Yes, she’s twenty-one and has finally consented to a coming out. You’d best be careful else you shall lose her. I think Lisa’s lost hope for her longstanding devotion to you and decided to be sensible and find a husband among the available bachelors in town this year.”
“Hmm.” Robert frowned at the suggestion. His feelings for Lisa had always been more filial than anything else so the sudden outrage he felt at the very suggestion that she might give up on him to seek another was rather startling. Pride, Robert excused himself. He had probably enjoyed her silent adoration on some level and was just miffed at the possibility of losing it. Shifting uncomfortably, he muttered, “Well, good for her. I wish her luck. I, myself, am not ready to settle down. I am quite happy with my mistress and my life as it is.”
“Of course you are,” Daniel said dryly, and then grinned and added, “But then why should you be happy while the rest of us suffer in matrimonial hell? As a good friend, you should really join us there.”
Robert chuckled at the suggestion. “Matrimonial hell, my foot. It’s been two years since you married Suzette and you still can’t keep your hands off each other. Dear God, I caught you in the broom closet at the Handly tea just last week. And you and Christiana are no better,” he added dryly when Richard burst out laughing. “It wasn’t the stars you were showing Christiana when I caught you out in the gardens at that dinner at the Witherspoons’ the week before.”
When the two men just grinned unrepentantly, he shook his head. “I don’t know why I willingly spend any time with the four of you. You’re always billing and cooing, or slipping away to dark corners or empty rooms. It’s really rather nauseating.”
“Perhaps what you think is nausea is really envy,” Daniel suggested with a grin.
“Hmm.” Robert didn’t deny it, but merely said, “Envy or nausea, it matters little. The men in my family have no luck with marriage. My father, his father, and his father’s father before him all married faithless, adulterous women. Hell, it’s only getting worse. Not only was my mother unfaithful, there’s a possibility that she helped my father on his way into death’s sweet sleep so she could openly be with her lover, Lord Gower.” Robert shook his head. “No thank you. I shall wait until I am old and decrepit before marrying and do it only then to fulfill my duty and produce an heir to the dukedom before I toddle off to the grave. Until then, I am perfectly happy with my mistress.”
He glanced around again for a servant to refill his drink. Not spying one, he turned back to find both men now solemn faced and silent.
“What?” he asked dryly. “Surely you’d heard the rumors?”
Daniel and Richard exchanged a glance and then Daniel sighed and admitted, “Aye, but we weren’t sure you had.”
“Of course, I did,” he said grimly. “She hasn’t exactly been discreet. She didn’t bother with mourning at all, has attended London ever since and is often seen in Gower’s company.”
Richard nodded and then asked solemnly, “Do you really think she had something to do with your father’s death?”
Robert sighed and once more looked around for a server. Failing to see anyone, he glanced back and shrugged. “What does it matter? He was dying, and it was a slow and torturous wasting away for him. But . . .” He grimaced and shook his head. “I was sure he’d last another day or so. I had gone out for my morning ride, got back and went up to sit with him only to discover she’d arrived on one of her infrequent visits from town while I was gone.” His mouth tightened. “She was crying prettily into a hanky when I entered the room, but paused to announce with a sad moue that he was dead.”
He looked away and then muttered, “If she did help him on his way, it may have been a favor to him. He was suffering a great deal.” Silence reigned for a moment and then he shifted impatiently. “How the devil did we get on this depressing subject?” When Richard and Daniel merely shook their heads silently, pity in their expressions, he stood abruptly. “I’m heading back to the townhouse. At least there I can get a drink when I want it. Good day, gentlemen.”
“A
re you a virgin, dear Bet?”
Lisa blinked her eyes open and frowned, both at the fact that she was dozing off in the middle of tea—which was surely about the rudest thing she could do—but also because Mrs. Morgan’s question was completely inappropriate. Good Lord, one simply didn’t ask a lady’s maid things like that. Or anyone, really.
Realizing she’d somehow slumped in her seat, she sat up and found herself swaying alarmingly. Good Lord, what was the matter with her? Lisa wondered and gave her head a shake.
A confused mumble from Bet drew her gaze and she found the maid peering at her with the same dismay she was now experiencing.
“Well, never mind,” Mrs. Morgan said with unconcern. “I suspect you are, but we shall have the doctor verify it. He has to anyway for the auction. Otherwise, no one will bid on you. They don’t simply take these things on word alone when paying such high prices.”
None of that made the least bit of sense to Lisa, but it did send a frisson of alarm through her.
“Mishes Mor—” she began, but paused abruptly as she heard the slur to her words.
“Oh my, I do believe the tincture is starting to take effect,” Mrs. Morgan said pleasantly and picked up the small bell on the table beside her to ring it twice. “Time for bed I think. It will keep you out of trouble until they arrive.”
“They?” Lisa asked with bewilderment, some part of her brain—a very confused and slow-working part—trying to tell her she needed to get herself and Bet out of there . . . now.
“The doctor who examines all my girls before I sell them to the highest bidder,” she explained. “And your suitor, of course. I sent word to him that you’re here. However, he does like to sleep most of the day away and it will no doubt be well after dinner before he arrives. Of course, we shall have to get you bathed and properly attired for his visit. He does like his girls presented just so. Quite fussy about it, actually,” she added with a grimace and then glanced around. “Oh, good, here are Cook and Gilly. They’ll put you both to bed. I have things to do, but trust they’ll take good care of you.”
Lisa stared blankly as the woman stood and moved toward the door. She was vaguely aware that others had entered the room, but didn’t seem to be able to stop staring at Mrs. Morgan. Her friend. Who had apparently put something in her tea? Drugged her? And Bet? What had that been about a suitor?
The thought was the last she had before her eyes drifted closed.