Page 1 of A Simple Scandal (Millionaires of Mayfair #3)

A mesbury

Nine years prior

At the summer home of the Late Earl of Webster-Harnly

Knowing precisely what David faced when he entered the lion’s den, Lady Grace Webster lifted her chin a defiant inch as she stepped inside her father’s study. Her brother-in-law, Stewart Arnold, rose from her late father’s desk chair and regarded her with a benevolent smile. Meanwhile, Grace’s younger sister, Hope, who had married the insidious man, stood beside him.

Their father, the previous Earl of Webster-Harnly, had been buried six months before, and now, her brother-in-law acted as if he were the new earl instead of their third cousin, Raphael Sullivan.

To say Stewart was subtle and underhanded was not an exaggeration. He reminded Grace of a cunning fox lurking near a henhouse, waiting for an opportunity to pillage and plunder the unsuspecting fowl. That was how her former best friend, not to mention former fiancé, Dane Ardeerton, the Marquess of Merrick and heir to the Duke of Pelham, described Stewart. Dane should know, as he had attended Eton alongside Stewart. Her brother-in-law had cultivated a reputation for cheating his way through Eton while ingratiating himself with the provosts through excessive flattery, another unforgivable trait as deceitful as cheating in Dane's eyes.

Regardless of the outcome of today’s visit, Grace would soon be free from having to deal with Stewart. Unfortunately, that also meant she wouldn’t be seeing Hope much either. Hope had decided to forgo a Season to marry Stewart, who belonged to the wealthy gentry in their county. Her life was stuck in Amesbury along with Stewart.

Well, Grace would not allow herself to make the same mistake.

London called to her like a long-lost lover serenading his beloved. Grace intended to respond to that call as soon as today’s business was complete. She fully anticipated staying with Raphael, the new earl, at her father’s former home in London while she immersed herself in all the activities the Season had to offer. She had become somewhat of a celebrity after helping her friend, Annabelle Ernst, find the perfect husband. Since then, everyone had clamored for Grace’s help in finding their ideal partner.

“My dear sister, please come in,” Stewart drawled, gesturing toward a chair in front of her father’s desk. Hope slowly settled into the chair to his right.

Though she was attired in appropriate half-mourning clothing as her brother-in-law and sister, there was a slight difference. Both of them resembled ravens who were holding court for all their lowly subjects. They wore expressions as dark as a twilight sky.

“Thank you,” she murmured demurely.

“As you must be aware, my husband is now head of the family.” Hope darted an adoring gaze at Stewart. “He made the sacrifice and attended the reading of Father’s will in London. He just returned yesterday.” She tutted as she picked a piece of lint off his sleeve and then patted his arm. “You must be exhausted, dear.”

Stewart preened under Hope’s ministrations. “Wife, not at all. You always know how best to take care of me.”

Get on with it. Grace wanted to roll her eyes, but by some miracle, she sat there as still as stone. Hope was the one who had found her father’s will in a box of discarded papers, which was odd since her father was meticulous with anything important.

“I’m afraid there’s no way to ease the shock of what I’m about to say.” Her brother-in-law sniffed as he shuffled the papers in front of him. Slowly, he raised his gaze to hers. “So, I shall simply be blunt. Your father died destitute.”

The words hovered in the air, eluding her grasp as she grappled for a response. Grace tilted her head, wishing for the words to become clear. “Pardon?”

When Hope scooted her chair closer to him in solidarity, Stewart smiled down at her before fixing his gaze on Grace.

“Destitute. Insolvent. Impoverished.” Stewart’s eyes gleamed with every word he spoke.

Grace shook her head in denial. “That can’t be. Papa was excellent in managing the estate and his funds.”

“That might have been the case in the past,” Stewart murmured. “But it’s highly doubtful. Not when he gambled recklessly with his fortune and the extra estate monies.”

“There must be some mistake or misunderstanding,” Grace whispered to no one. Her body grew instantly numb as if encased in ice. She couldn’t move and could barely breathe. Destitute. What did that mean?

“There’s no money,” Hope snapped. “You have no dowry, inheritance, or trust. Simply put, you have nothing.” By then, she was practically screeching at Grace. “Sometimes I wonder how you can be older than me. You act like a child.”

“Darling,” Stewart admonished gently.

“I’ll not be quiet.” Hope pointed her finger in Grace’s direction. “All your extravagant clothing orders have been canceled, including anything you’ve ordered at the village seamstress or haberdashery, not to mention the cobbler and hatmakers.”

Grace’s hand flew to her chest. She’d never heard Hope sound so hateful. It was hard to believe that only months ago, they held each other in their arms as they grieved the loss of their beloved father. He’d been ill for quite some time with a weak heart, but Grace had never imagined that he’d die so quickly.

As she struggled with the news, it suddenly dawned on her that she had no money outside of the small amount of pin money she had saved from her father’s generous allowances. She had maybe ten or fifteen pounds at most in her reticule. She gasped as she understood what it all meant. For the love of heaven, she would soon be indebted to her sister and brother-in-law.

Desperate to find another solution, she turned her attention to Stewart. “I have an inheritance from my Aunt Polly.”

“No, you don’t.” Her brother-in-law regarded her with a look of feigned empathy. “Your father gambled that away as well.”

None of this made sense. She narrowed her eyes. “How could this have occurred? Father had been ill for several months before he passed. He never left the house.”

Stewart poured himself a cup of tea without offering any to Hope, much less Grace. He took a sip and sighed in satisfaction. “He juggled those debts like balls in the air. Somehow, he kept them afloat until his passing, and then the creditors came calling.” He shrugged. “I successfully convinced them to accept less than what was owed. Now, the new earl doesn’t have to worry about paying off your father’s debts.” He turned to Hope. “Do you think your father was feeble-minded at the end?”

Hope nodded twice. “Undoubtedly. The father I knew would never have gambled away everything.”

“Papa was not feeble-minded.” Grace stood so abruptly that her chair screeched in protest. “He was still managing the estate books the day before he died.”

Hope hmphed.

“All is not lost,” Stewart offered. “If you like, I have enough for a trip to Northumberland, where you can stay with my Great-Aunt Pearl. She wrote with news that one of the local farmers, Mr. Jones, is looking for a wife. He’s in his fifth decade. He’ll make a fine husband but probably won’t live too long. He won’t mind that you’re in mourning.” He smiled as if that solved all her problems. “And if he doesn’t suit you, his son might. He’ll inherit the farm after Mr. Jone dies.”

“Northumberland?” Grace cried, then slowly lowered herself into the chair. “I know no one in Northumberland.”

“Never fear. I’ll write a letter of introduction to Great-Aunt Pearl. She would be delighted to host you for a brief visit to see how well you and Mr. Jones get along and if you can find an accord.” His smile melted from his face. “You should try to please him. My great-aunt will not spend the coach fare necessary for you to return. You’ll have to find your way back…to whatever relative agrees to take you.”

Grace swallowed the brick lodged in her throat. She turned her gaze to her sister, seeking some empathy for her plight. They’d never been close as sisters. Grace had always been her parents’ favorite, but was it any wonder? Hope was as sour as unsweetened lemonade.

Her sister pointed the same finger in Grace’s direction again, flicking it up and down as if finding her lacking. “This is your own fault.” She planted her hands on her hips and leaned in Grace’s direction. “You’re an idiot for turning down the Marquess of Merrick and then thinking yourself fancy enough for a London Season. If you’d married him, there would have been money in the coffers. He would have forgiven our father’s debts. All of them,” she seethed. “And you would have been rich beyond your wildest dreams.”

Grace straightened her back. Her sister didn’t know everything that had occurred between her and Dane. Only her father had known, and he’d taken the secret to his grave. Under no circumstances would she share it. Though Dane had walked away from her, she still loved him.

Hope’s lips pursed in repulsion. “What a waste of money London was. The Marquess of West Essex wrote a letter inquiring about your hand in marriage.”

Grace scooted to the edge of her chair. Perhaps things weren’t as dire as she had once thought. The marquess was a tad young but pleasant enough. She had danced with him several times last Season. He seemed to enjoy her company. As a way out of this nightmare, she could marry him. Though she didn’t love him, friendship could forge a strong foundation for a ton marriage.

“Unfortunately, he needs an heiress.” Stewart frowned as if aggrieved on her behalf. “When I explained your situation, he immediately withdrew his interest.”

Her heart stuttered in its beat. Stewart was as subtle and refined as a wild boar. If he told everyone in London that she was destitute, no one would have anything to do with her. “What did you say to him? Did you tell him we’re impoverished?”

“You are impoverished, not we,” Stewart pointed out unhelpfully. “I simply told him you would also need to make an excellent match.”

“Another example of a wasted effort in London.” Hope scowled.

Grace ignored her. Who would have ever thought she’d prefer to talk to her brother-in-law instead of her sister with such unsettling news? She offered a meek smile to him, all the while praying her stomach would cease roiling. “I’ll ask the new earl for his assistance. We’ve always enjoyed each other’s company, and I am his blood relative.”

Stewart wrinkled his nose as if smelling something horrid. “Unfortunately, the new earl is not a fan of gamblers and wastrels. He doesn’t accept it as his duty to help his poor kindred, and that includes you.”

“Don’t come to us expecting charity.” Hope slashed her hand through the air. “You should have married like me and forgone London. Thank goodness I married before all this nastiness started.” Her sister smiled at Stewart like he was the King of England who had granted her the title of Queen Consort. “At least I’m secure and have a husband who will provide for me through sickness and health.”

“Those were our vows to one another, darling,” Stewart said smugly, then patted her hand. “Let us not be too harsh. She is your sister, after all.”

“God help us all,” Hope muttered under her breath.

He turned to Grace. “Perhaps you should find gainful and respectable employment. Have you ever considered being a governess?”

Hope smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes as her gaze shot to Grace. “You can stay here until we’re out of mourning, but not a day more. You’ll be on your own.”

Without acknowledging them, Grace turned and, with her most regal walk, she escaped their presence. Governess, indeed. Though the tears burned in her eyes, she would not let them fall. Only when she found the sanctity of her room would she allow herself to grieve. It was unfathomable that her father would have left her in such destitute circumstances. Her father would be appalled if he knew she would be forced to work in someone’s household.

Once she closed the door to her room, she flopped onto her bed. Her back bounced from the effort as she closed her eyes when she could no longer contain the hot tears.

Her father had never been a gambler, had he? He went to the Jolly Rooster, the local coaching inn, to dine and spend time with his friends. He never mentioned card games until he’d told her about Dane wagering ungodly amounts of money at a card game with Lord Scoville.

But how would he have known Dane was gambling unless he was participating in such games himself? When he’d told her that he’d seen Dane there with other women, her father tried to convince her not to marry him. Perhaps her father was trying to hide his own gambling habits.

If this had happened a year ago, she would have asked Dane for money until she found suitable employment in London. Under no circumstances would she be indebted to him now or in the future. Frankly, their last conversation made her doubt whether they were even friends anymore.

She blew out a ragged breath and dried her tears. It made little difference at this point. She had nothing except her own intelligence and ability to work. She would survive this setback.

She vowed then and there that she would never allow herself to be in a position where she didn’t have the means to have her own household. She would do whatever was necessary to have a home that would always provide her with the security to stand on her own.

Whatever it took, she would not be beholden to her family.

Nor would she ever rely on any man, especially Dane Ardeerton, the Marquess of Merrick.