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

Two

“ Y ou simply cannot sit in the middle of my desk and stare at me. I have work to finish,” Dane murmured as he scratched Dancer’s neck.

The irascible black feline twitched its tail and then delivered a cut direct to Dane. He ran a hand over his face as a half-hearted smile tugged at his lips. One thing he could say about his cat, it always entertained him. He’d received the pet from his good friend and fellow millionaire, Malcom Hollandale.

Dane started his millionaire club when he was at Eton. Malcolm was one of the first members. The club was a place where like-minded entrepreneurs could meet and discuss how they made money and what they did with it. Members, both men and women, came from all walks of life. The only requirements were that each member be honest, possess at least a million pounds, and act honorably.

Obviously tired of Dane, Dancer jumped to the floor without a look back and strolled to Emmy, Dane’s beloved retriever, who was resting beside his chair. Emmy was Dane’s constant companion, and she wagged her tail whenever Dane entered the room. She was a reminder that at least one creature on this massive planet found his company enjoyable, unlike a particular confidant female he couldn’t get out of his thoughts. Dancer, however, ignored him unless it suited his purpose, like seeking a scratch or two on its head or perhaps being served a morsel from Dane’s uneaten meal.

On its way by the dog, Dancer took the opportunity to express his displeasure by whacking Emmy’s nose. With a yelp, the poor dog scampered out of the cat’s way, which caused the cat to arch its back with a hiss and prepare for battle.

“Cease,” Dane admonished. “Bad form even for you, Dancer.”

“Your Grace?” Ritson, his loyal butler, entered the room with a sly grin. It wasn’t the first time he’d caught Dane talking to his pets, nor would it be the last. “Lord Trafford and Lord Ravenscroft are here to see you.”

“Send them in.” He stood and waited for his two best friends, who happened to be his brothers-in-law, to enter the room.

Tall with dark hair and masculine features, Trafford strolled into the room wearing his ever-present smile. He had married Dane’s eldest sister, Honoria after Dane had caught them both in flagrante delicto at a hunting lodge on Trafford’s Amesbury estate. Even though Dane had challenged him to a duel, there was no need. Marcus Kirkland, the Earl of Trafford, was head over heels in love with Honoria.

And she felt the same about him.

Hugh Calthorpe, the Marquess of Ravenscroft, followed, twirling his walking stick as he approached. With his dark coloring, muscular build, and attractive countenance, people took notice when the marquess entered the room. But it was his mischievous grin that drew people to his side. He’d married Dane’s youngest sister, Pippa, just yesterday. He was as besotted with Pippa as she was with him.

As was his luck, Dane had caught him in dishabille after Ravenscroft had taken Pippa to bed before marrying her. Naturally, Dane had challenged him to a duel as well.

He had to treat both of his best friends equally.

Tender affection flooded his chest. His precious sisters were married and loved by two honorable gentlemen. Dane had known them most of his life and considered them his brothers long before they’d married his sisters.

However, he still had to goad his friends a tad. Otherwise, they’d think him ill.

“So, the honeymoon is over, I take it. Pippa has come to her senses and thrown you out of your home.” Dane arched an eyebrow as he regarded his friend.

“Hardly. She’s still as smitten with me as she was yesterday.” Ravenscroft settled into one of the chairs in front of Dane’s desk with a smile that softened his face. “And I…let’s just say she’s completely and utterly bewitched me.”

“I know exactly how you feel,” Trafford agreed with the same dreamy smile.

“Well, I don’t know how that feels,” Dane growled.

Ritson cleared his throat, indicating that he was still there. “Your Grace, the errand that you requested has been completed. The dress and shoes are prepared for delivery.”

“Thank you. I need them sent anonymously.”

Ritson nodded, then exited the room.

“What’s this?” Ravenscroft rubbed his hands together. “Intrigue?”

“You haven’t acquired a mistress, have you?” Trafford frowned his disapproval.

“Not that it’s any of your business, but it’s nothing of the sort.” He poured three cups of tea and served his guests. He slid into his chair and faced his best friends. “I’m glad you’re here. There’s something I want to discuss. It’s Grace.”

Instantly, Trafford straightened in his chair.

Ravenscroft glanced at Trafford before he slid his gaze to Dane. “Do tell all, and don’t leave a thing out.”

Dane sighed as Dancer jumped onto his lap and started to purr. The cat was a menace, but he knew when Dane needed comfort and was never selfish with his affection then.

“After the wedding, I asked Grace to stay, but she refused. So, I took it upon myself to visit her after she left Ardeerton House.” Without jostling his cat, he took a sip of his tea. The hot liquid slid down his throat.

“Are…things progressing romantically between the two of you?” Trafford sat on the edge of his seat and leaned forward.

“No.” He took another sip of his tea, then set the cup down. Dancer kneaded his breeches, reminding Dane he still wanted his attention. With a slight grin, he obliged his prickly pet and stroked his soft fur. “I secured her services to help me…find a wife.”

“You are ready to marry?” Ravenscroft asked incredulously. “Has the world stopped rotating?”

“No. But the oceans may have grown still.” Trafford’s brow furrowed into lines that reminded Dane of his ducal seat's neatly plowed fields.

Ravenscroft nodded in agreement. “Consider this. Has gravity stopped mid-air?”

Trafford scowled slightly. “No, old man. That one is ridiculous.” Then he grinned. “Pelham is looking for a wife. Has the day refused to break?”

“Enough. You both are ridiculous, and might I add, you suffer from a poor sense of humor.” Dane chuckled as he shook his head. “Nothing that bleak.” He regarded his two friends. “It’s time I marry.”

Ravenscroft stared at the ceiling as his shoulders shook. “This should be high-brow entertainment.”

“Ravenscroft,” Trafford admonished with a shake of his head. “This is our friend you’re making sport of.”

“You’re quite right.” Ravenscroft grew serious. “Grace is our friend, and it was wrong of me to say such a thing.”

His friends started to laugh uproariously as if they were actually amusing. In his most arrogant ducal move, he flicked his wrist as if warding off an aggravating gnat.

“Are you finished?” he asked once the laughter died.

“Come now,” Trafford coaxed with a smile. “Surely you see the hilarity in this. Why would you , the great Duke of Pelham, need assistance securing a bride? You’re the original millionaire in your millionaires’ club.” He took a long gander at his person. “You’re pleasant enough to look at. You could have any person you wanted.”

“I don’t know about that,” Ravenscroft said. “My mother always said that animals’ affections are a good harbinger of a person’s worth. His cat doesn’t even like him.”

Both men snickered at the insult.

Dancer took the opportunity to hiss at his friends.

“Thank you,” Dane crooned to his cat. “At least I have one ally in the room.” Emmy strolled to his side and nudged his elbow with her wet nose. “I stand corrected. I have two.”

Ravenscroft shook his head with a smile. “Let’s be serious here. Why do you need Lady Grace’s help? Trafford is right. You could have anyone.”

“Why not? She knows the ton along with all my faults, or at least, she thinks she knows my faults.” He shrugged. “This is what she does for a living.”

Ravenscroft narrowed his eyes in disbelief. “What is your end game?”

“I do want to marry, but I think Grace is in some sort of financial trouble,” he confided, then lowered his voice. “What I have to say cannot leave this room.”

Ravenscroft and Trafford turned to one another, then regarded him.

“What about our wives?” Trafford asked as Ravenscroft nodded.

“Of course, you can tell them.” Only when both of his friends nodded did he continue, “When I called upon Grace, there was a dress and a pair of shoes in her entry. It was what she wore to the wedding. Her butler announced he was going to the market and left immediately. I glanced out the window and saw him carrying a bag with what I swear were puffs of ivory lace spilling out of it. I left shortly after that and couldn’t help but notice that the dress and shoes were gone. He must have taken them to sell at the market.”

“Perhaps her maid took them upstairs after cleaning them.” Ravenscroft glanced at Dane.

Dane shook his head. “She doesn’t have one.”

“My wife made her that dress for her birthday. In my humble opinion, it was one of Pippa’s finest creations,” Ravenscroft said with unabashed pride. “Pippa shared that Grace cried when she saw it and said it was the finest gift she’d ever received. Grace couldn’t have sold it.”

Trafford nodded in agreement. “When Honor came to London to announce our engagement, Grace was the one who chose Honor’s fashions to wear to events. She wouldn’t sell a beautiful gown, particularly if it were a gift from Pippa.” His brow furrowed slightly. “She wouldn’t discard a token of that friendship without good reason.”

“I agree with your reasoning and would conclude the same…if I didn’t send a footman to investigate the market. I described the dress and shoes with instructions to purchase both items if he found them. The footman was back within the hour. I’m having it sent to her today without a note. I only pray she doesn’t try to sell it again.” Dane thumped a knuckle on the desk twice, signaling his decision. “We should have a family dinner tomorrow. I’ll engage Pippa’s services for a few new gowns for Grace.”

“Won’t she become suspicious if new clothing starts appearing on her doorstep?” Ravenscroft asked. “Especially Pippa’s gowns?”

Dane shook his head once. “No. This will be from me since I’ve retained her services to introduce me to potential wives. I’ll explain that I don’t want her to incur any extra expenses on my account. I’ll order several gowns for her to wear to the various social events we’ll attend. In addition, I’ll say the order was to promote Pippa’s modiste shop.”

Ravenscroft ran a hand down his face. “ Ton events are my idea of torture.” He shuddered slightly. “Don’t ask me to host an engagement ball for you.”

Trafford laughed. “He won’t. He’ll ask Pippa.” When his friend’s lightheartedness melted in an intense scrutiny, Dane notched his chin slightly upward.

“Why go through all of this?” Trafford asked as he tilted his head and examined Dane. “You obviously have feelings for the woman. Why not ask her?”

Dane’s mouth tugged into a sneer. “Ask her what?”

“Don’t be dense.” Ravenscroft thrummed his fingers against the arm of his chair. “Ask Grace to marry you. You’ve done it once. You’ve even courted the woman.”

Dane closed his eyes briefly as that familiar ache stabbed him in the chest. He still remembered the day he first met Grace. Tall, gangly, and missing two teeth, she was the same age as he. Her dark blonde hair reminded him of spring’s first honey. It was always the sweetest. She and her family had purchased a small summer estate next to Pelham Hall, the ducal mansion in Amesbury. She’d shared her basket of freshly baked biscuits and tarts. From that day forward, he and she became best friends.

There was only one woman who would keep him enthralled. She’d done it the very first time he’d laid eyes on her. When they were twenty-one, he courted her. It was time to marry. He approached courting Grace as a military campaign, each romantic move planned in advance. He brought her flowers and took her on picnics and boat rides. She seemed as enchanted with him as he was with her. She’d even sneak out at night to go on midnight strolls where they’d share kisses that drove him wild with need.

When she’d agreed to marry him, it had been the happiest day of his life. She was his.

Until his father had forbidden it.

That was the fateful night he’d gone to the Jolly Rooster and wagered in a high-stakes card game. Lord Scoville, a wealthy viscount, had played deep. Dane had won big that night.

But the next day, he’d learned how fickle lady luck could be as he lost the most important person in his life.

Grace.

“I’ll be blunt as I answer your question.” He lowered his voice, but the words were clear as day. “When I hired her, she asked me if I was there to ask her to marry me. Just from her facial expression, I believe she would have considered such an offer.” Dane stared at his two friends.

His friends were leaning forward as they rested their elbows on their knees.

“Go on. Tell us what happened. Whatever it is, I’m certain you both will find a way to mend your differences. You are adults. Years have passed,” Trafford encouraged with a single nod.

“There’s not much else to tell. I’m not certain I’m even interested in marrying her now.” He feigned disinterest as he slid his fingers through Dancer’s fur and stared out the window to his courtyard. “She jilted me the next day after accepting my proposal.”

“You never shared much of this courtship. Why did she jilt you?” Ravenscroft asked.

“After I asked her to marry me, I was with two other women that night.”

“You did what?” Trafford bellowed while Ravenscroft shook his head in disbelief.

“I had two of the demi-monde sitting on my lap. Both were…shall we say…in a state of undress.” He blew out a ragged breath. “Grace’s father came into the Jolly Rooster and saw me with them. He told Grace.”

“Pelham, what were you thinking?” Ravenscroft challenged.

“ I was thinking of Grace and our future, ” Dane growled.