Page 12 of A Lady’s Mishap (The Lockwood Family #5)

12

E lodie leaned out of her bedchamber window, watching as Anthony tossed sticks across the lawn for the puppies. She laughed softly as the energetic pups eagerly fetched the sticks but, time and time again, failed to return them. Instead, they darted off, sticks clamped in their tiny jaws, forcing Anthony to chase them down with playful exasperation.

As she watched him, Elodie felt a strange, unexpected warmth blossom in her chest. Anthony was truly remarkable. He had a kindness to him, a natural ability to make her laugh and lift her spirits. Though he still vexed her at times, she was beginning to see him in a different light. But being attracted to Anthony would not do, especially when what she wanted desperately was to dislike him.

At that moment, Anthony glanced up at her window, catching her gaze. A bright smile spread across his face as he raised a hand in greeting. Elodie’s cheeks flushed, and she waved back, feeling oddly flustered at having been caught staring. Quickly, she took a step back from the window, retreating from his view just as a soft knock sounded at the door.

“Good morning, my lady,” Molly greeted as she stepped inside. “A guest has arrived to see you.”

“A guest? At this hour?”

Molly grinned. “You overslept this morning and missed breakfast.”

“Oh, I had not realized,” Elodie said.

Molly walked over to the wardrobe and pulled out a pale green gown with a delicate net overlay. “This should be perfect for today,” she said, draping it across the bed.

Elodie took a seat at her dressing table as Molly removed her cap and began brushing her long blonde hair, quickly but skillfully arranging it into an elegant chignon. “Who has come to call?” she asked as Molly pinned the last of her curls in place.

“A Lady Eugenie.”

Shifting in her chair, Elodie asked, “And what of Lord Westcott?”

Molly gave her a blank look. “What of him?”

“Did he not accompany his sister?” Elodie inquired.

Her lady’s maid shook her head. “Lady Eugenie and her maid arrived only moments ago,” she informed her. “Were you expecting Lord Westcott?”

“No, but I am just surprised that Lady Eugenie is here to see me. We barely know one another.”

“Well, perhaps you two will become the best of friends.”

Elodie smiled at that thought, though it struck her as unlikely. “I do not think we should get ahead of ourselves. She has only come to call.”

Rising, Elodie approached the bed and removed her nightgown. She slipped the gown on, and Molly started the ardent task of fastening the buttons on the back of Elodie’s gown.

With a final, gentle tug on the gown, Molly finished fastening the last buttons. “Will there be anything else, my lady?”

“No, but thank you. I am going to meet with Lady Eugenie,” Elodie said as she walked over to the door.

As she descended to the main level, Elodie’s thoughts lingered on Lady Eugenie’s unexpected visit. She reached the drawing room and found Lady Eugenie seated comfortably on the settee, deeply engrossed in a book. Her finger marked her place, her brows knitted in concentration.

“Lady Eugenie,” Elodie greeted.

Lady Eugenie held up one finger, her eyes never leaving the page. “Just a moment.”

Elodie took a seat beside her, waiting patiently. After a few long moments, Lady Eugenie turned the page with a nod of satisfaction and looked up. “I apologize, but I had to finish that page.”

Elodie smiled. “Is that the same book from yesterday?”

Lady Eugenie laughed. “Oh, heavens, no. I finished that one yesterday. Now I am nearly done with this one. I do so love reading.”

“As do I,” Elodie replied, “though it takes me several days to truly absorb a good book. I do not read as quickly as you do.”

Lady Eugenie slipped the book into her reticule and leaned in, her expression growing solemn. Lowering her voice, she said, “I wanted to thank you for not telling my brother the true story of how we met.”

Elodie waved her hand. “Your secret is safe with me.”

“I cannot tell you how much I appreciate it,” Lady Eugenie said. “I also never did have the chance to properly thank you for saving me from Lord Montrose.”

“There is no need to thank me.”

“Oh, but there is,” Lady Eugenie asserted. “I would have been ruined and it would have been entirely my fault.”

Finding herself curious, Elodie asked, “If I may ask, why did you agree to go into the gardens with Lord Montrose?”

Lady Eugenie looked away, embarrassment coloring her cheeks. “I fell for his charm. The way he spoke to me—it made me feel… seen, in a way I had not felt in a long time.”

“Do not be too hard on yourself,” Elodie reassured her. “From what I have heard, lots of women have been fooled by his ‘charming act.’”

Lady Eugenie sighed. “But I knew of his reputation and still followed him blindly into the gardens. I should have been more sensible.”

Elodie offered her a reassuring smile. “Well, it all worked out and no one else is the wiser.”

“That is not entirely true,” Lady Eugenie replied. “My brother informed me of Lord Montrose’s wager in the betting book at White’s.”

“I would not give that wager much heed.”

“I try not to, but it bothers me that Lord Montrose has been calling you a ‘shrew.’” Lady Eugenie fidgeted with her hands, guilt flickering in her eyes. “You may be the diamond of the Season, but no one is untouchable.”

Elodie poured tea from the service on the table, offering Lady Eugenie a cup. “Would you care for some tea?”

“Tea?” Lady Eugenie repeated. “How can you even think of tea at a time like this?”

Elodie let out a small laugh. “It is rather simple. I pour, I sip—it is a very easy process.”

Lady Eugenie pressed a hand to her forehead, visibly frustrated. “I am sorry. I feel terrible for putting you in this position. It is entirely my fault that Lord Montrose turned his attention to you.”

“None of this is your fault,” Elodie said, handing her the cup. “Now, let us drink our tea, shall we?”

“I do not think I can,” Lady Eugenie admitted, lowering the cup to her lap. “I am feeling too discombobulated.”

Elodie met Lady Eugenie’s gaze. “One little mishap is not going to define me. Lord Montrose’s words are just that… words.”

“But he is a very convincing man.”

As Elodie lifted her teacup to take a sip, White stepped in with a small, formal bow. “Lord Westcott has come to call, my lady.”

Lady Eugenie’s eyes went wide. “My brother must not know that I am here.”

“I think it is a bit late for that,” Elodie said.

Glancing frantically around the room, Lady Eugenie’s eyes landed on the large windows. “I will slip out through the windows. He would be none the wiser.”

Elodie gave her a bemused look. “I do not think that is wise. Surely, he saw your maid in the entry hall.”

Lady Eugenie’s shoulders slumped. “You are right. But how are we to explain my presence here?”

An idea formed in Elodie’s mind, and she gave Lady Eugenie an encouraging nod. “Leave that to me. Just follow my lead.” She turned to White, who had been waiting patiently for her response. “Please, send in Lord Westcott.”

Moments later, Lord Westcott entered, looking polished in a blue jacket and buff trousers, his confidence slightly dimming when he spotted his sister. “Eugenie,” he greeted, his tone laced with surprise. “What are you doing here?”

Before Lady Eugenie could respond, Elodie spoke up. “I invited her,” she said. “We both share a love of books, and I thought it would be wonderful to discuss them together.”

Lord Westcott’s surprise softened into a smile. “My sister does have rather strong opinions on books.”

Gesturing to a nearby chair, Elodie asked, “Would you care to join us, my lord?”

“I would be delighted,” he said as he sat down on the proffered chair.

Elodie reached for the teapot. “Would you care for a cup of tea? Or perhaps you have already had your fill for the day?”

Lord Westcott chuckled. “No, tea sounds wonderful. Thank you.”

She poured the tea, extending the cup to him, and he accepted it with a nod of gratitude, taking a sip. A brief silence followed as they sipped their tea, the room settling into an unexpectedly awkward quiet. Elodie’s mind scrambled for a topic, and she blurted the first thing that came to mind. “The weather is rather lovely this morning, is it not?”

Elodie felt like a simpleton. Good heavens. Who actually cares about the weather?

Fortunately, Lord Westcott seemed to take pity on her. “Yes, indeed. It was a beautiful morning.”

Just then, Lady Eugenie abruptly rose. “Well, I should be returning home now. I have much that needs to be done today.”

Elodie stood as well. “Must you leave so soon?”

“Yes,” Lady Eugenie replied, casting a fleeting glance at her brother. “I do not wish to intrude any longer.”

“Nonsense,” Elodie assured her. “I have enjoyed our time together. You need not rush off.”

Lady Eugenie offered her a grateful smile. “I shall call upon you again, assuming you have no objections.”

“I have none.”

“Good,” Lady Eugenie said, a hint of playfulness returning to her voice. “Next time, I will talk your ear off about books.” She turned to her brother with a smile. “Brother, I shall see you at home.”

Lord Westcott tipped his head as his sister departed. “I am not quite sure why she was in such a hurry to leave.”

A maid stepped into the room for propriety’s sake and hurried over to a chair in the corner.

Elodie leaned forward, setting her teacup onto the table. “Your sister is delightful.”

“That is one word for her,” Lord Westcott muttered.

She tilted her head, curiosity piqued. “Are you two not close?”

Lord Westcott’s smile turned rueful. “I love my sister dearly, but we are quite different. She is a self-proclaimed bluestocking, and I worry that she will end up a spinster without a second thought about it.”

“Do you take issue with her being a bluestocking?”

Lord Westcott sighed, a hint of resignation in his expression. “No, not at all. Our mother instilled in us a love of learning. But we each have a duty?—”

Elodie groaned, interrupting him. “I detest that word. My father is constantly reminding me of what my ‘duty’ is to myself and this family.”

“We were born into this gilded life, and with that comes a responsibility to abide by Society’s contract.”

“I prefer to live my life the way I see fit,” Elodie replied firmly.

“That is a dangerous way to live,” Lord Westcott remarked.

Elodie smirked, her gaze steady. “Is it, though?”

Lord Westcott gave her an amused look. “You are the diamond of the Season. All the debutantes are looking to you on how to act.”

Her eyes widened in mock horror. “Dear heavens, then they are in serious trouble,” Elodie quipped. “Because, quite frankly, I have not the faintest idea what I am doing.”

Lady Dallington entered the room, and Lord Westcott immediately stood, offering her a respectful bow.

“Lord Westcott,” her mother greeted. “What a pleasant surprise.”

He inclined his head. “My lady.”

Her mother settled beside Elodie, her attention turning to Lord Westcott with keen interest. She launched into a flurry of questions.

Elodie could not help but smile as her mother took hold of the conversation. Taking advantage of the chance to sit back, she sipped her tea, enjoying the warmth of the cup in her hand. This allowed her a moment to observe Lord Westcott as he gracefully answered each of her mother’s questions, his responses measured and polite, with a hint of charm.

She had to admit that Lord Westcott was not awful. But that is all she was willing to admit… for now.

Anthony sat in the dimly lit corner at White’s, holding a drink as he waited for his friends. The club was quieter than usual, a handful of gentlemen scattered across the room, speaking in low tones or reading the newssheets. The calm suited him. He needed discretion, and White’s offered the perfect mix of privacy and familiarity.

He had informed Bennett and Winston that he had to speak to them at once but wanted to do so in private. Although he knew he should tell Elodie about the threat he had received, he dreaded her reaction.

Bennett and Winston entered the club together and made their way to the corner of the hall. Bennett was the first to speak. “Now, what is so urgent that you had to speak to us immediately?”

Anthony gestured to the chairs across from him. “Have a seat, and I will explain.”

As Winston settled in his seat, he raised an eyebrow. “And why here, of all places? Could you not simply walk a few feet to our townhouse? We are neighbors, after all.”

“I wanted this conversation to be in private,” Anthony replied with a glance around the hall. Bennett smirked. “You know, we do have doors at home.”

Anthony set his glass down and leaned forward. “I received a threatening letter last night. It concerns Elodie.”

All traces of humor left Bennett’s face as he asked, “What did it say?”

Reaching into his jacket pocket, Anthony removed the crumpled letter, handing it over. “See for yourself.”

Bennett’s eyes narrowed as he read the letter. “Blazes,” he muttered under his breath before passing it to his brother.

Winston’s face turned grave as he read, then looked up. “Do you have any idea of who sent this?”

Anthony shrugged slightly. “It could be anyone.”

Bennett leaned in, his voice low. “Did anyone witness your altercation with Lord Montrose in the gardens that night?”

“Not that I am aware of,” Anthony replied. “However, I was rather preoccupied with handling an unconscious Montrose. There could have been someone nearby. Someone that did not make themselves known.”

Winston dropped the crumpled letter onto the table. “Could Montrose himself have sent it?”

“To what end?” Anthony asked. “Besides, he does not seem the type to advertise his own disgrace.”

“What of the young woman that Lord Montrose was trying to take advantage of?” Winston inquired.

“Lady Eugenie,” Anthony said. “If her involvement were revealed, her reputation would be in tatters. I doubt she is playing a part in this.”

Bennett pressed his lips thoughtfully. “I think it would be in Elodie’s best interest if we paid them off.”

Anthony’s jaw tightened. “Ten thousand pounds is no small sum.”

“No,” Bennett agreed, his voice steady. “But I do not want to risk having Elodie being ruined.”

Winston shook his head. “If you bow to this blackmailer now, what is to stop him from demanding more? I suggest hiring a Bow Street Runner to investigate. Fortunately, I know just the man.”

Anthony arched a brow. “You are acquainted with a Bow Street Runner?”

Winston nodded. “Yes, Grady. He helped me with a delicate matter before. He is discreet and effective.”

Anthony had to admit that Winston had a point. If they paid the ransom, it could lead to more demands, a never-ending cycle. “Very well, I would like to speak to this Bow Street Runner.”

“I will arrange it,” Winston said.

Bennett regarded Anthony with a curious expression. “Why was the letter sent to you? Why not to us, her family?”

“That is a good point,” Anthony admitted. “It is strange. I am not quite sure why I was singled out.”

A lanky server approached the table and took their drink orders. Once he was out of earshot, Winston asked, “Does Elodie know about the letter?”

Anthony winced. “No, I have not told her.”

“I think that is for the best,” Winston replied.

“You do?” Anthony asked.

Winston bobbed his head. “There is no need to alarm her, not until we have got this sorted out.”

Anthony picked up his glass, swirling the contents. “I am not sure that is the right approach. Elodie is no wilting flower. She does not need to be coddled.”

“Why worry her unnecessarily?” Winston asked.

Bennett interjected, “I agree with Winston. Let’s keep this from her, at least for now. If we can solve it quietly, then she will be none the wiser, and her reputation will remain intact.”

Anthony took a long sip from his glass as he considered their words. Though a part of him bristled at the idea of withholding this from Elodie, another part recognized the sense in it. Why worry her when this could be dealt with?

His thoughts were interrupted by Winston muttering, “Speak of the devil.”

Anthony turned and saw Montrose striding towards their table, a smug smirk stretching across his lips.

“Good afternoon, gentlemen,” Montrose greeted, his voice laced with mock civility. “How are you on this fine day?”

Anthony barely concealed his irritation, refusing to entertain Montrose’s forced pleasantries. “What do you want, Montrose?”

“Nothing but the pleasure of your company,” Montrose remarked.

Bennett shot up from his seat. “Go away. No one wants you here.”

Montrose placed a hand over his chest with dramatic flair. “That is disappointing since we will be family soon enough.”

“Elodie will never marry you,” Bennett growled, his hands balling into tight fists.

“Should we not let her decide whom she will marry?” Montrose asked, his voice laced with amusement.

Bennett took a threatening step forward, but Winston’s hand shot out, stopping him. “He is not worth it,” Winston cautioned.

Montrose chuckled dryly, turning his gaze to Anthony with a glint of challenge. “What say you, Belview?”

Anthony’s jaw tightened, anger simmering beneath his calm exterior. “Elodie will never be yours.”

Leaning in, Montrose lowered his voice. “I will let you in on a secret. I always get what I want. Lady Elodie will be no exception.”

“Not this time,” Anthony asserted.

A taunting smile came to Montrose’s lips. “Ah, so you want Lady Elodie for yourself? I have seen the way you look at her. It is rather revolting, if you ask me.”

“No one asked you,” Anthony said firmly.

Montrose’s lips quirked, as if savoring every ounce of irritation he provoked. “You and your brother are no different. Both yearning for things you can never have.”

Anthony rose from his chair, meeting Montrose’s gaze with steely resolve. “I am nothing like my brother.”

“Your actions suggest otherwise,” Montrose replied.

Through clenched teeth, Anthony said, “I imagine you would know all about poor choices, considering your long history with Stephen.”

Montrose’s smirk faltered momentarily. “That is in the past.”

“Were you not his second at that infamous duel?” Anthony pressed.

Montrose scoffed, his tone defensive. “I had little choice.”

“Everyone has a choice,” Anthony shot back. “You simply chose poorly.”

Montrose moved closer until he was mere inches away, his voice a low snarl. “And I suppose you know plenty about choosing poorly?”

“And what is that supposed to mean?” Anthony demanded, fighting the urge to recoil as Montrose’s foul breath lingered uncomfortably close.

“Stephen is a scoundrel, and yet you do nothing to rein him in. Word has it he even has a daughter hidden away.”

“Stephen is his own man,” Anthony responded.

Montrose shook his head, his tone mocking. “You are weak, Belview. And that will not serve you well in the House of Lords.”

Before Anthony could reply, Winston interjected. “You are causing a scene, both of you.”

Anthony glanced around, realizing that several club members were watching the exchange with keen interest. Reluctantly, he took a step back. “Leave, Montrose. If I had my way, you would be blackballed from White’s.”

Montrose adjusted the lapels of his jacket with exaggerated indifference. “Good thing your opinion means little to me.” He gave a brisk nod. “Good day.”

With one final, self-satisfied smirk, Montrose turned on his heel and strolled out.

As Anthony returned to his seat, he said, “I cannot abide that man.”

“At least you had the pleasure of hitting him,” Bennett remarked with a half-smile.

The server approached the table with a tray of drinks in his hand. He set them down, quickly excusing himself.

“We need to ensure that Montrose stays far away from Elodie,” Anthony said.

“I have already instructed White to deny Montrose entry into our home,” Bennett informed them.

Winston reached for his glass, his expression resolute. “And Bennett and I have already formed a plan on keeping Elodie away from Montrose at social events.”

“That is good,” Anthony responded.

Bennett met Anthony’s gaze. “You are nothing like your brother, Belview. Do not let Montrose’s words dig at you.”

Anthony rubbed a hand over the back of his neck. “I know I am not like Stephen, but Montrose was right on one thing. I have done nothing to rein Stephen in.”

“Stephen is not the type of person to be reined in,” Bennett said. “He will always do exactly as he pleases, regardless of what anyone else thinks.”

“That is precisely it,” Anthony said with a sigh. “By standing idly by, I am as good as condoning it. Perhaps I am part of the problem.”

Bennett moved to sit on the edge of his seat. “You are doing the best that you can, considering the hand that you have been dealt.”

“It is not enough, not anymore,” Anthony said, rising. “By allowing his behavior, I am complicit.”

Winston followed suit and rose. “You are being too hard on yourself. Stay and have a drink with us.”

Anthony clasped a hand on Winston’s shoulder. “You are both good friends, but I have a few things I need to see to at home.”

Winston looked as if he had more to say, but instead, he simply nodded. “Very well. Just remember, you can run, but you can’t hide. We will finish this conversation someday.”

“Hopefully not,” Anthony said as he lowered his hand.

Leaving White’s, Anthony had an immense desire to speak to Elodie. Somehow, she had a way of understanding him without needing to say a word. Her presence was a quiet balm he craved more than he cared to admit.

Perhaps calling upon her was not the worst idea.