Page 3 of The Broken Marchioness (Lords of Inconvenience #3)

CHAPTER THREE

“L ady Frederica?” Allan couldn’t think straight as he stared at his sister’s friend.

She’d been missing for a year, hadn’t she? At least, that’s what he had heard in the ton though any time he talked to Dorothy, he was certain Frederica’s location wasn’t quite as unknown as others seemed to think it was.

Great, and now, I have just embraced her in a dark corridor…

He jumped back away from her, still rubbing his sore jaw as he realized exactly what he had done.

Frederica was staring at him in equal shock, that pretty face turned up toward him. She had changed much in the last few years. He hadn’t seen her for some time because of his grand tour, but she was easily recognizable.

It was those blue eyes which had always done him in from their very first meeting. She had a beauty which he had quickly ignored, for he had not been worried about finding a courtship for himself at the time.

“What the hell are you doing?” Frederica suddenly cried.

“Little, quiet Frederica,” he said with a chuckle as he lowered his hand. “Who would have thought you had such volume in you?”

“This is no time for a jest.” She waved a warning finger at him.

“Pray, do not hit me again; once was quite enough.” He pointed at his cheek which he didn’t doubt was red.

“You were touching me!”

“I thought you were another,” he tried to explain though he hardly wanted to go into any more detail. He kept his affairs as secret as possible. He may have had a reputation for being rather flirtatious since he had come back from his travels, but he and his paramour were the only ones who knew about their nightly activities.

He had been certain Frederica was she. They were wearing very similar pink gowns though now as he looked at Frederica in that dress, he realized just how different they were. Slight of figure, Frederica’s curves were more obvious beneath the cotton. He snatched his eyes away, angered that he had noticed at all.

“Another?” she spluttered, a small smile appearing on her lips. “I do not need to hear any more about what you were up to up here.”

“Good, because I did not intend to share it.” He stiffened, crossing his arms over his body as he looked down at her. “Let’s instead talk about you.”

“Me?” She looked like a deer at the end of a pistol, suddenly terrified. “Why me?”

“What are you doing up here in the rafters when there’s a ball going on downstairs?” At his question, she scoffed and looked away. There had been a time when Frederica was so mild of manner that she wouldn’t have scoffed at anyone. It was somewhat refreshing to see she had changed a little. “Better yet, perhaps I should ask what the hell you are doing in London when you have been missing for a year?”

She turned around on the spot, looking panicked as she wrung her hands together.

“Where’s Dorothy?” she asked.

“That’s not answering my question.”

“That’s not answering mine, either!” she pointed out, flicking her head around to glare at him again.

“What are you doing here, Frederica?” He hadn’t used her title. Perhaps it was because she was so close to Dorothy that he felt he could drop it. They weren’t just acquaintances, were they? Dorothy had bonded them both together. “You’re alone in a dark corner of the assembly rooms.”

“As are you.”

“That doesn’t make you any more in the right. Why are you here?”

“That is my business.” She turned once again on the spot. “Good Lord, if anyone else has seen you up here, you would have been in a scandal of your own, Lord Padleigh.”

He grimaced. He avoided scandals by rule. Any flirtation or dalliance he had was behind closed doors.

“So, we’re going to keep it a secret what happened up here, aren’t we?” he asked.

“The fact you were too slow to defend yourself or what you were doing up here?” Her words actually made him smile. He fought his response, shaking his head.

“Frederica…”

“Agreed,” she said hastily. “As long as you keep secret the fact that you saw me at all.”

“What?” He stepped toward her in alarm. “You must be in jest,” he said with sudden firmness. “The entire ton has been questioning where you are for a year. When I returned from the continent, it was all anyone could talk about.”

“Wonderful. How lovely to know my little life has been the source of much speculation and questions,” she said with full sarcasm, turning on the spot again.

“Would you stand still please for one minute, so we can have this conversation face to face?” he begged.

She abruptly turned to face him, her hands on her hips, narrowing her eyes.

“How is this any better?” she seethed.

“For one thing, I can see just how angry you are now,” he said with a sigh.

“You embraced me!”

“I told you, I thought you were another.”

“How noble, the Marquess of Padleigh has a lover who he is sneaking off to see in the backroom of an assembly. How romantic.”

“When did you get so sarcastic?” he said, tilting his head to the side as he watched her. “And I don’t remember saying anything about romance.”

She flinched at his words then took a small step back.

“Enough of this.” She shook her head. “My Lord, where is Dorothy?”

“Did you come tonight with your parents?” A thought had struck him, as if it had been placed there by a bolt of lightning. They had been searching for her for a year. He knew that. He’d even spoken to her father at one event, hardly surprised at the conversation.

The Earl of Campbell had a habit of trying to ingratiate himself with anyone of a higher position than him. As Allan was a marquess, it had been expected when the Earl of Campbell sidled up to him at a club one night, being slimy and overly flattering. Allan’s behavior had been so cold towards him that, fortunately, the Earl had understood that Allan wanted little to do with him.

“They have been searching for you,” Allan said hurriedly. “Advertisements in the paper though they tried to play down the matter in conversation with others.”

“How surprising.” That sarcastic tone was back.

“What has happened to you, Frederica?” Allan asked in alarm, stepping toward her. She turned to face him fully, biting her lip. “When I last saw you, you were… different.” He couldn’t put it into words, fearing she would take his opinion as an insult.

She used to be the woman that would stand in quiet corners and not say boo to a goose. She would often look at Dorothy and their friend Lady Charlotte, too, before she spoke her mind.

“People change,” she said coolly, turning her gaze to look away from him. In the moonlight, those blue eyes were all the more striking. They could have almost been silver.

Allan had to look away. He had managed to ignore the beauty he had noticed when he first met her a few years ago. He had even forgotten it when he was on the continent. He did not need it to return when they were in a corridor alone together. He did not need to be even more attracted to her now.

“Have you not changed over these last few years?” she challenged. He jerkily nodded, reluctant to say any more. “You’re still the same brother to Dorothy who was overly protective and even… domineering?”

“I see your tongue is much looser these days.”

“Perhaps I’m just not as afraid to speak my mind.”

He had to bite the inside of his mouth to stop himself smiling again. He wondered if she was trying to drive him away with her jibes — to make him leave this corridor — but now, something in her words had garnered his interest.

“Where’s Dorothy?” she asked again.

“Your parents don’t know you’re here, do they?” he concluded, watching as her lips parted in a panicked ‘o’ shape. “Frederica, they have been in fear this last year. You must see them. You must go to them.”

“I shall do no such thing.” She shook her head firmly.

“You must — the fear they’ve suffered —”

“Probably over losing positions and reputations more than fear for their daughter,” she said offhandedly, looking around the corridor once again as if she was wary of someone appearing.

“Who are you looking for?”

“That’s my business.”

“It’s my business now.” He reached toward her and offered his hand. “Frederica, please, come and see your parents and tell them you are well.”

“I shan’t.” She looked down at his hand as if he had offered up a fistful of slimy slugs. “You may be Dorothy’s protective brother, but you are not mine.”

“I can at least be a concerned friend who is trying to protect you,” he hissed angrily.

“A friend? You and I have not spoken in years!”

“That hardly matters. They are worried for you. For your own welfare, you must see them. Come and see them at once.” He tried to take her hand again, but she snatched it back out of his reach.

“You cannot tell me what to do,” she spoke with such fire, he was now the alarmed one.

“Quiet Frederica isn’t a mouse anymore.”

“What of it? What’s wrong with finding a voice?”

“I don’t remember saying there was anything wrong with it.” He shook his head.

He could see this now perplexed her. Her lips opened and closed, but no sound escaped her for a minute.

“I am not going to see them, My Lord. You cannot make me go.” She turned to march away down the corridor.

A panic set in, deep within Allan’s gut, one so strong that his stomach actually curdled.

A young woman running around London alone couldn’t be safe. There were all sorts of characters that could take advantage of a lady alone at night. He had to protect her from it.

He shot down the corridor and darted in front of her, blocking her exit.

“You must see them,” he demanded again.

“Why must I?” She folded her arms across her chest.

“Because they are your parents. They’re responsible for your welfare. I would be beside myself if Dorothy had gone missing for a year without a word. Family is family. For one thing, they can put a roof over your head in London.”

“Who says I don’t have a roof already?”

“And with whose money are you paying for that roof, hmm?” he said in a deep voice, watching as she blushed bright red. It did a rather pleasant thing to her complexion. He didn’t want to think of how pretty she looked as she blushed.

Distractedly, he pushed a hand through his dark brown hair, trying not to look directly into her eyes.

“It doesn’t matter,” she said in a rush. “I am not seeing them, and you can’t make me see them.”

“Please, Frederica.”

She had tried to move around him to get to the door, but he caught her hand in time and pulled her away from it.

“Let go of me!” she demanded.

“Are you going to slap me again?” he asked with a low laugh. “I am protecting you. You cannot walk out of these assembly rooms completely alone?—”

“I can damn well do as I like.” She tried to push against him to force him to release her.

Knowing he couldn’t hold onto her, for that would be disgraceful, he released her. Plainly, she wasn’t prepared for it, for she stumbled away.

“Ah!”

“Frederica!” He jumped forward and caught her in time though it was in an ungainly fashion — his hands caught both sides of her waist, dragging her away from the staircase and the danger she was in. She stumbled against him, the two of them falling flat together, her pretty freckled face much closer to his than he had been prepared for.

Neither of them said anything as they fell still; they both just stared at each other, his hands on her waist and her hands bundled in the middle of his chest.

“Oh!” a sudden gasp escaped from a distant end of the corridor.

Allan looked around, knowing at once that there was someone there with him.

It wasn’t until he saw the face of the young lady looking at them in astonishment that he realized exactly how this looked.

Not only were he and Frederica caught alone together in a dark corridor, completely isolated from the assembly and everyone else. They were wrapped in one another’s arms, as if they were in a lover’s tryst.

Such a curse escaped his lips that Frederica actually gasped as she was pressed against him.

“Scandal! Scandal!” the lady screamed.