Scandal of the Season Page 3

  Sophie must have sneaked out without him seeing her. And with no other hints as to whom this Anne Smith might be, he should leave. His stomach decided to rumble. Perhaps he didn’t have to leave just yet.

  He found Lord Blackburn at the refreshment table. “Good evening, Blackburn.”

  “You missed a beautiful christening, Somerton.”

  “Well, I didn’t think the church could survive me walking inside.”

  Blackburn chuckled. “Most likely not. I heard about the incident at Lord Eastleigh’s ball last night. I certainly hope his boorish actions won’t stop you from getting back into Society.”

  “Why should they?” he asked with more carelessness than he felt.

  “Exactly. Marrying Jennette and returning to Society was the best thing I could have done.”

  Anthony preferred to ignore Blackburn’s comment and selected a few items from the refreshment table. Seeing the eggnog in a large crystal bowl, his stomach roiled. He needed no reminders of the upcoming season. “Eggnog, already?”

  Blackburn chuckled. “It was my wife’s idea. She had Lady Selby’s cook make some to get us thinking about Christmas. Personally, I think it was Jennette’s way of reminding me I had better find her something nice for Christmas.”

  Blackburn had done exactly what Anthony’s mother had recommended and it worked out perfectly for him. Blackburn not only had his reputation on the mend but a loving wife, too.

  Anthony speared a piece of ham and dropped it on his plate. Reaching for another piece, he stopped when he felt a slight nudge near his side.

  “Oh, excuse me.”

  Anthony smiled down at the petite woman. She pushed her spectacles up her nose and glanced at him. Something about her seemed slightly familiar, but he could not place her. With her high-neck gray dress, tight chignon and spectacles, he assumed she must be one of Lady Selby’s bluestocking friends.

  “Have we met?”

  “I do not believe so.” She tried to step back but Lady Blackburn was directly behind her.

  “Somerton,” Lady Blackburn said with a nod. “I must apologize. I bumped into Victoria who must have nudged you.” She took a step back allowing her friend a small bit of space. “This is a dear friend of mine, Miss Seaton. She runs—”

  “The home for orphans on Maddox,” Anthony finished for her. That was why she looked familiar. He must have seen her coming in or out of the house next to Lady Whitely’s.

  Lady Blackburn smiled. “I might have known you would be aware of her.”

  “Only her work.” Anthony glanced over at Miss Seaton who looked as if she would like the floor to swallow her. She continued to stare at the toes of her shoes barely visible from the bottom of her muslin skirts. The poor woman looked so completely out of place here. He wondered how the daughter of a vicar had become such good friends with these highborn ladies.

  “Victoria, this is Viscount Somerton,” Lady Blackburn said with a smile.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Seaton.”

  “Thank you, my lord,” she replied meekly with a quick curtsy. “Jennette, I must take my leave now.”

  “Of course,” Lady Blackburn replied. “Come say your farewells to Avis and Elizabeth.”

  Anthony watched as the ladies walked toward Lady Selby and Lady Kendal. What was it about Miss Seaton that made him unable to look away? He shook his head. Lust. Though there was no real reason for that either. He’d taken advantage of his time in France to avail himself of too many women.

  Watching Miss Seaton made no sense. She was an innocent, barely able to maintain eye contact with him. And that was the last thing he needed or wanted in a woman. He wanted willing and experienced without the artifice of a prostitute. Miss Seaton was none of those things.

  Chapter Three

  Victoria relaxed against the comfort of her bed and breathed in deeply. Even now, an hour later, her hands still trembled. How could she have done that? In front of her friends!

  Even worse, at her friend’s home and to a viscount!

  A very handsome viscount.

  There was something about Lord Somerton. His lips, she thought with a smile. They were the most perfect lips she had ever seen on a man. She grimaced. There had been one other man with lips so perfect. Victoria shook her head. That man had not been a viscount.

  He’d only been a drunken young buck with sandy brown hair and green eyes. Viscount Somerton’s eyes were hazel. Which, her mind countered, could sometimes be considered a shade of green. It could not be him. He would have said something, or given her some indication that he knew of her. Unless he had been so foxed that night, he didn’t remember her.

  No, it was definitely not him, she decided.

  Slowly, she reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew today’s catch. The rubies sparkled in the dim candlelight. Staring at the pendant, fear turned to frustration. The intricate gold design formed a crest over the largest ruby in the center.

  “Dammit!”

  She threw the necklace on the bed. What was she to do now? That pendant was too unique to take to a pawnshop. The broker might recognize the crest and turn her into the constable. How could she have been so stupid?

  A small knock on her door sounded and then an older woman entered without waiting for a reply. “Did you get anythin’ good?”

  Maggie sat down on the bed and stared at the rubies spreading across the coverlet like spilled blood.

  “Too good,” Victoria replied.

  “How did you get somethin’ like that?” Maggie’s voice raised an octave.

  Victoria covered her face with her hands. “I had no luck on Bond Street this afternoon. So I picked a man’s pocket at the christening party. I thought I might find some spare coins. I never thought I would find that. I was so nervous I just dropped it into my pocket. Jennette bumped into me, and I’m quite certain he felt me reaching in his pocket.”

  “What are you goin’ to do?”

  Slowly, she removed her hands from her face and shook her head. “I have no idea. Look at the crest. I can’t pawn this.”

  Maggie stared at the pendant. “I have a brother who might give you some money for it.”

  “I cannot take the risk.” Victoria picked up the necklace and put it around her neck. She grabbed her hand mirror and gasped at her reflection. “Could you imagine wearing something so fine?”

  “Not me. Maybe you with those fine manners.”

  Fine manners, she scoffed. If Maggie knew the truth, she wouldn’t be so impressed. Anyone can learn manners. Victoria removed the necklace and stared at it once again. Suddenly, the door to her room hurtled open and a little girl raced inside.

  “Miss Torie,” she screamed and threw her small body into Victoria’s arms. “I had a bad dream.”

  Victoria wrapped the little girl into a tight embrace. “Shh, Bronwyn. Everything is all right now.”

  “It’s not,” she sobbed. “The man was after me again. He wanted to take me away from here.”

  “That’s not going to happen,” Victoria whispered. Of all the children in her care, Bronwyn was special. She had been her first. Without Bronwyn, there was no telling how different her life would be now. The little girl had saved her from the inevitable course her life had been heading toward—prostitution.

  Victoria smoothed the girl’s curly black hair and whispered soothing words to her. Feeling her rhythmic breathing, Victoria knew the girl had fallen back to sleep.

  “That’s the second time this week,” Victoria whispered to Maggie. “It’s not like her.”

  “And it’s always the same dream about a man tryin’ to take her away from here.”

  “Do you think I should be worried?” Victoria asked.

  “It’s just a phase. I’ll take her back,” Maggie whispered.

  Victoria released her embrace and let Maggie lift Bronwyn from her arms. She stared down at the necklace again and knew what she would do with it. Little Bronwyn might only be nine, but someday, she would wear fine th
ings like silk gowns and ruby necklaces. And if not, maybe by then she could pawn it for the girl.

  Standing up, Victoria moved to her linen press and the box with Bronwyn’s name on it. She placed the pendant in the box. When Bronwyn was older and the necklace forgotten about, then Victoria could give it to the child.

  Now her only concern was finding something else to pawn before they ran out of food and coal. She knew she could go next door and ask Lady Whitely for money, but she hated that idea.

  It was Victoria’s fault that they were low on funds. She had brought two new children in last month who were not like the others. Then there were the few trinkets she had bought the children to give them on Christmas morning. And she never should have bought presents for Avis’s and Jennette’s babies. She should have said she could not attend the christening party. But she wanted to see her friends.

  She wanted to be one of them instead of always on the fringe.

  It mattered not, she told herself for the millionth time. She would never truly be one of them. And today’s actions proved that. What would they think if they discovered she was nothing more than a petty thief?

  Anthony walked up the steps of his home on Duke Street. He loved the small home that his grandmother’s inheritance had afforded him. It had allowed him to leave his father’s house of lies. For almost ten years Anthony had lived here…alone.

  Why was that suddenly rubbing him wrong? He loved his life. With plenty of cousins, he had no reason to marry just to give his father an heir. But the past few months something felt off in his life, and Lord Eastleigh’s actions at that party last night had only made it worse. Maybe being away for five months had made him forget how much he loved his unfettered life.

  Nevertheless, even that notion didn’t sit well with him. After watching three friends fall madly in love and marry, he could not possibly think he wanted that too. He didn’t. He could have any woman he wanted, whenever he wanted. What man would want more than that? So what could be bothering him?

  Perhaps it was his need to apologize to that woman.

  Anne Smith.

  She was the only regret he had in his life. He’d been so damned drunk that night her words never reached his brandy soaked brain. Taking that poor girl up against the wall of the church had been more than bad form. It had been rape. And at the very least, he owed her an apology and probably much more than that.

  For years, he had been trying to find her. But without a name, he’d had no luck. He finally went to Sophie for advice two years ago, and she promised to help him find the girl’s name with her abilities as a medium. But before she had given him Anne Smith’s name, she’d required his assistance with matching her friends.

  Tomorrow, he would return to Sophie’s and demand an explanation. He wanted more than a name now. He wanted to know everything about the woman.

  Reese opened the door as Anthony reached the top step.

  “Good evening, sir.”

  “Good evening, Reese.” Anthony shook the light snow off his greatcoat and handed it to his butler. “I believe I shall retire.”

  Reese glanced over at the clock in the parlor. “It is only ten.”

  Anthony chuckled. “I am tired tonight. After all the traveling, I want an early night in my bed.”

  “Are you expecting someone?”

  Anthony smirked at Reese’s knowing remark. “Believe it or not, I just want some sleep tonight.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  Anthony trudged up the stairs eager for the comforts of his bed. He could hear the sound of his valet’s footsteps following him up the stairs. “Evening, Huntley.”

  “Evening, my lord. Did you have an enjoyable time?”

  “Hardly.”

  Walking into his room, Huntley trailed behind. “I can manage my clothing tonight, Huntley. You may retire.”

  “Yes, my lord. If you are certain?”

  “I promise not to leave my trousers and jacket in a rumpled heap.”

  “Very well.” Huntley left the room with one glance back as if expecting to catch Anthony tossing his jacket on the floor.

  As the door shut, Anthony fell onto the bed. Exhaustion had settled into his bones. Slowly, he untied his cravat and then unraveled it from his neck. He thought about tossing it on the floor but folded it neatly and then placed the cloth on his bureau.

  Remembering the necklace in his jacket pocket, he reached down to pull it out.

  “Bloody hell!”

  There was nothing in his pocket but a piece of lint. He mentally traced his tracks throughout the day. After picking up the necklace from Lady Whitely yesterday, he’d placed it on his nightstand. This evening, he had dropped it into his jacket pocket and then went directly to Selby’s home for the christening party. Then he’d shown the piece to Sophie and replaced it in his pocket. Perhaps it had fallen out during the ride home.

  He strode down the stairs. “Reese, I need the carriage checked for a ruby necklace I lost. And send a footman to Lord Selby.”

  Anthony continued to walk toward his study. He wrote a quick note to Banning explaining what he had lost. “This must be given directly to Lord Selby and wait for a reply.”

  “Yes, sir.” Reese took the missive and walked away.

  With nothing left to do but wait, Anthony paced the small confines of his study. There had to be something he was missing. He walked to the decanter of whisky and poured himself a large glass. The liquid washed over his tongue and warmed him.

  What had he missed?

  He drank down the rest of his whisky and then he poured another glass. Lifting the glass to his lips, he stopped and frowned. Miss Seaton had bumped him near the refreshment table. He shook his head. The woman took in orphans to keep them from turning to crime. He’d met plenty of pickpockets in his line of work. She was no pickpocket.

  Who else could it have been? No one had come close enough to him to reach into his pocket. Besides, there was not a person at that party who needed the money the necklace could bring.

  “Sir, the groomsmen checked the carriage thoroughly and found nothing.”

  Anthony turned toward Reese. “Any word from Lord Selby?”

  “Not yet, sir.”

  “Very well.”

  He moved his attention back to the glass of whisky in his hand and slowly sipped it. There was no hole in his pocket and no one at the party who would have pinched the necklace from him. His mind returned to Miss Seaton. She reminded him slightly of the woman he searched for but, again, she was no orange seller. He’d heard enough about her to know she was the daughter of a vicar. And yet, she matched the vague description he remembered from ten years ago.

  He tried to think back to the other times he’d seen the woman selling oranges. The only thing that came to mind was her blond hair, blue eyes, and a smile that brightened her face and creased two dimples in her cheeks. He’d never seen Miss Seaton smile but doubted the timid woman had such a sweet smile.

  Damn. If only he hadn’t been so damn foxed that night.

  None of this would have happened.

  “Sir, a note from Lord Selby,” Reese said, walking into the room.

  Anthony grabbed the note and read it quickly. Selby had found nothing but promised to continue searching. He crumpled the paper and threw it into the small fire burning in the fireplace. “Damn.”

  “Do you need anything else, sir?”

  “No.” Just answers. Tomorrow morning he would make another call on Sophie and then he might even pay a visit to the angelic Miss Seaton at her home for orphans.

  Angelic?

  “Oh hell,” he muttered, disgusted with himself.

  He’d been deceived by the oldest ruse. Send in the angelic woman whom no one would suspect and have her perform the crime. Well Miss Seaton had no idea that she had just cheated the devil.

  And the devil always wins.

  Chapter Four

  Victoria walked to Sophie’s house hoping her friend could give her a little advice.
After spending most of the night brooding over her meeting with Lord Somerton, Victoria prayed Sophie would tell her everything would be all right. Perhaps Sophie could use her skills as a medium to let her know Somerton wasn’t the man from her past.

  Although, Victoria was beginning to think he was the man.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Seaton,” Sophie’s butler said as he opened the door for her.

  “Good afternoon, Hendricks. Is Miss Reynard home?”

  “I believe she has a caller, but let me see if she would like you to wait.”

  “Thank you.” Victoria sat in the velvet-padded chair in the hall.

  Hendricks returned quickly with a smile. “She asked you to wait in the salon.”

  As she started up the stairs to the salon, she heard a commotion from the back corridor. Loud footsteps stomped forward. She backed herself against the wall as if to disappear.

  “Anthony, wait,” Sophie called to the man.

  Victoria watched as Lord Somerton halted and turned toward Sophie. Anthony…Tony? Her breath caught. Oh, dear Lord, it must be him.

  “I have nothing to wait for except more lies from you.”

  “I told you the truth yesterday. She was there,” Sophie said.

  “Sophie, if you know her name then you can tell me if she is in service to the Selbys or not.”

  Sophie sighed. “No, she is not.”

  Somerton grimaced. “Then it is as I thought.”

  “What will you do?”

  “I do not have any ideas just yet. But friend or not, she will pay for what she did.”

  Sophie straightened. “Just as you shall pay for what you did.”

  “Fair enough.” Somerton walked toward the door. Hendricks opened the door, and Somerton started out. He turned as if to say one last thing to Sophie when he caught sight of her.

  Sophie glanced up and noticed her standing on the staircase. Her eyes rounded in surprise.

  He started to step back into the house, but Sophie was there with a hand to his chest.

  “Sophie,” he said in a low voice.