Page 2 of The Lady Was Lying (Greydon #3)

Chapter One

LONDON, FOUR WEEKS LATER

L ady Belinda Elizabeth Grey did not appreciate being told what to do.

It had always been a weakness of hers—a flaw even—and over the years, it had caused more than a little grief.

As she’d gotten older, she’d tried to become less rash and more sensible, but her stubborn nature prevailed far too often.

Sebastian, her eldest brother, knew as well as anyone how difficult it was for her to follow directives, and yet he stood in the doorway of her bedchamber and declared, “You must stay in the ballroom at all times,” like he had the right to tell her what to do.

Barely resisting the urge to defy his edict, she took a deep breath and responded as calmly as she could manage. “I promise I will not lure a gentleman into a compromising position.”

“Belinda,” he sighed. “I was not suggesting?—”

“You were,” she interrupted. “And it is fine. During my debut, I gave you plenty of reasons to doubt I could attend a society function without acting like a tart.”

His posture stiffened. “You are not a tart.”

“I’m an unmarried woman who has kissed twenty-seven men. I am, in fact, the very definition of a tart.” She wasn’t proud of her more foolish exploits, but she wasn’t ashamed of them either, and she certainly wouldn’t pretend they hadn’t happened.

“Twenty-seven.” He pinched the bridge of his nose and walked into the room, sinking into the chair closest to the fireplace.

“I’m not here to argue, nor am I here to cast aspersions on your character.

I won’t deny that I harbor worry about your future, but I have not interfered with your choices in years, and I don’t intend to start again now.

” He leaned forward and rested his arms on his knees.

“It’s just…Jane is very excited about tonight, and I should hate if anything were to spoil her debut. ”

How dare he.

She had many faults, but she loved her family and wouldn’t purposefully hurt any of them.

Unable to fully suppress her annoyance, she leveled him with a rather irate glare.

“I won’t spoil Jane’s debut. I would never do such a thing, but if you’re concerned, I can simply stay in my room for the duration of the evening.

” It wasn’t as if she’d shed a single tear if she had to stay far from the temptation of poor choices and easily seduced men.

“I didn’t mean—” He sighed again. “I always say the wrong thing when I speak with you.” He shifted his gaze to the ceiling for a beat and then back to her.

“Jane wants you there, and so do I. The whole family would be disappointed if you didn’t attend, but it’s important that you remember what is at stake. ”

As if she could forget. “Jane’s happiness.”

He nodded. “We both know what a scandal would do to her.”

“I will be on my best behavior,” she vowed.

Sebastian raised his brow as if to suggest her best wasn’t good enough.

“I will act like a respectable lady,” she clarified.

“Thank you,” he responded softly. “You’re a splendid sister, you know?”

She rolled her eyes. “I already gave you my word that I would behave. You don’t have to flatter me.”

He smirked and shook his head before rising to his feet and pulling her into a hug. Even though she wasn’t terribly fond of relying on her brother for comfort, she allowed herself to sink into his embrace.

There was little doubt in her mind that it was going to be a miserable evening.

* * *

When his mother announced that she was feeling a bit poorly and therefore could not join him at the ball hosted by the Earl and Countess of Greydon in honor of the earl’s sister, James did as any good son would do.

He inquired whether she needed anything, instructed her maid to prepare a posset, and then left her to rest as he readied himself for the ball.

Since it was his first formal outing, he dressed carefully and timed his arrival perfectly, making sure he was neither too early nor too late.

When he stepped to the front of the receiving line, he had a polite smile on his face.

The congenial greeting he had practiced in the carriage on the short trip across Mayfair got stuck in his throat when the Countess of Greydon turned toward him and gasped.

Not a single word emerged from her mouth as her hand flew up to cover her lips and the color leached from her skin.

Panicking a little, he faltered, “Uhh.”

“Emmeline,” the earl murmured softly, ignoring James entirely as he put a protective arm around his wife’s waist and pulled her into his side. “Whatever is the matter? Do you need to sit down?”

The countess blinked, her attention darting to her husband as she smiled weakly. “No. Sorry. I’m…uh…quite well.” She turned back to James and hesitantly asked, “Have we met before?”

“No,” he responded with complete certainty. He did not know her. Had never seen her in his life. His circle of acquaintances in London included the men he’d met at his godfather’s club over the past week and no one else.

“I’m newly arrived,” he added as she continued to stare at him.

“Have you ever visited Cheltenham?” she asked.

His heart stopped. It couldn’t be a coincidence that she mentioned his mother’s birthplace. Unable to form words, he shook his head slowly.

“I’m sorry. You look…” She leaned forward. “It’s uncanny how much you look like my father.”

His discomfort spiked even higher. It seemed so unlikely, and yet?—

“You could be brothers.”

“Brothers,” he echoed, momentarily relieved. The countess was a grown woman, so therefore her father must be the age of his father and…no. It couldn’t be .

“Well…maybe not brothers.” She chuckled. “My father is no longer with us, and you are quite a bit younger than he was.” She paused. “I…I sound ridiculous, don’t I?”

“Not at all.” What else could he say?

Surely, she was mistaken. And if she wasn’t, surely any resemblance between him and her father was nothing but coincidence.

But what if it wasn’t?

“He’s lying,” the earl interjected, his attention still firmly fixed on his wife while he ignored the long line of guests that were waiting to greet him.

“You do sound a little ridiculous. Perhaps you are overheated.” He placed his palm on her forehead.

“Maybe it would be best if you took a bit of a respite.”

“But—" the countess argued.

“The duke is far too young to be your father’s brother,” the earl responded quite reasonably. “Any resemblance between them is pure happenstance.”

Was it though?

“I know, but?—”

“Em, darling.” The earl dropped his head and spoke directly into her ear.

She frowned and then nodded slowly. “We will speak of this later.”

“Of course,” the earl agreed. “We can discuss it as much as you like after the ball.”

“After the ball,” she confirmed.

Although there were many things he wanted to ask, James was ever so glad he wouldn’t be around for that conversation. Was it too much to wish that he could reverse time and never encounter the countess at all?

With as much composure as he could muster, he bowed over the countess’s hand and pretended nothing unusual had occurred. “It was lovely to make your acquaintance.”

“And yours,” she responded, scrutinizing him for another long moment before turning and slipping away.

“Your Grace,” the earl said when his wife was gone. “Allow me to introduce my sister, Lady Jane.”

James had been too surprised by the countess’s reaction to even notice the young lady standing nearby, observing him as if he were the single most amazing thing she’d ever seen. He smiled politely while she positively beamed back at him.

“Your Grace,” she breathed, her words laced with excitement.

“Lady Jane. Pleasure.” He bowed over her hand and wished he were capable of feeling anything other than trepidation.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come to the ball.

Maybe he shouldn’t have come to London. Desperate for a moment to gather himself, he quickly added his name to Jane’s dance card and slipped away.

Entering the crowded ballroom did not help ease his discomfort, and circulating as if he didn’t have a care in the world was torture.

Everyone seemed to be staring. The reaction in the papers to his arrival and the sheer number of invitations he had received had prepared him for scrutiny, but nothing had prepared him to wonder whether they were staring because he was a duke or because they saw the resemblance too?

After his disastrous introduction to the countess, James had no choice but to change his mission for the evening.

Instead of beginning his quest to find a suitable wife, he would focus on avoiding the countess.

He would also survey the other guests for suspicious behavior.

It wouldn’t do to be startled a second time.

While it would be nice if he knew who else to watch for, he’d been too much of a coward to ask for clarification of his father’s confession.

He would have to rely on the power of observation.

The doors at the other end of the ballroom beckoned him with the promise of escape.

Sadly, it would arouse suspicion if he came and went within the span of a quarter hour, so he kept mingling.

Trying to appear relaxed, he allowed himself to be introduced to countless young ladies and their chaperones.

Thankfully, no one other than the countess reacted as if they’d seen a ghost. He would have been relieved if he weren’t already troubled.

Before long, his name was scrawled on dance cards throughout the room.

As he took to the dance floor with one lady after another, his mind was not engaged in becoming further acquainted with any of them.

He was too busy wondering how his mother would react when he asked for an explanation.

Would the melancholy that had clung to her since his father’s death worsen, or would she be relieved?

* * *

Belinda was not supposed to be in the garden.

Nor was she supposed to be alone.