Scandal's Deception Read online

  Chapter 17

  Jane was going mad.

  Weeks of lessons—how to curtsy, what to say to dinner partners, how to hold a teacup, proper ways to walk—had taken their toll.

  Still no mother. No sister. No letter from Maddie. The latter couldn’t be expected yet. Jane had only just written. The letter was probably on a ship somewhere. Given her mood, she was sure the ship would sink, and no one in America would ever hear from her again.

  The only bright spot was her daily rides with her guardian. She’d begun riding on her aunt’s tame mount. She longed for her own mare, left behind in Baltimore with the Hornsbys.

  She buttoned the jacket of her riding habit and slipped on her boots. Ralston would still be abed, but there was no reason why she couldn’t ride by herself. She’d keep to the lanes until the day brightened and then head to the open area where she could let her horse stretch out into a gallop. Feeling the wind in her face would bring life back into her battered soul.

  After slipping silently down the backstairs, she nodded to the kitchen maids and fled the house through the back door. The mare whickered when she hoisted the saddle onto her back.

  “There you are, my pretty. Are you ready to stretch your legs?” She tightened the girth and made adjustments. She’d saddled a horse many times at home. She needed no groom to help her.

  Finishing her task, she led the horse to a mounting block and hoisted herself into the sidesaddle. She much preferred to ride astride as she often did at home. It was impossible in the garments required of proper English ladies, and that was all she had at the moment.

  The sun peeked above the horizon as she reached the lane. The sky was a glorious pink this morning. Based on the color of the clouds, rain was probably on the way, so she would enjoy her time, even if she had to face a scolding later.

  If she were home, she’d be watching new shoots poke through the ground in the back of the house. New corn stalks would be showing now, and tiny tendrils of beans would be winding up poles and beginning to form into pods. A wave of homesickness engulfed her, and she halted the horse on a grassy mound near a low wall and slid out of the saddle. Letting the horse graze, she sat nearby and focused her gaze on the valley as rays of sunlight illuminated the scene before her.

  How did her life come to this? Papa should have told her everything the minute she was old enough to comprehend. Perhaps he’d hid the facts of her birth because he’d feared she might leave him. Never would she have left home and the only life she knew. She’d been raised to be loyal to her father, her friends, and herself. The last part plagued her the most. She had a willful streak that sometimes worked against her best interests. Lately she’d tempered her wilder impulses. No need to alienate those who were trying to help her navigate the perilous waters of life in the ton.

  Except for Ralston. He infuriated her one minute, made her laugh the next. But the emotion she feared the most was when he touched her face with gentle fingers and she had a perplexing longing to have his hands on other parts of her body.

  What was happening to her?

  She’d once found a bawdy book in Papa’s library and sneaked it into her room to read late at night. Some of the passages made her blush, and she’d blown out the candle and had lain in the dark, thinking about what they meant. When she’d looked up some of the words in the lexicon, she’d been shocked, while a sly, sensuous feeling invaded her body as she imagined someone doing those things to her.

  Jane hadn’t thought about that book in years. Now it was in her mind at the oddest of times, most often when Lord Ralston was around.

  Gilbert—Gil. Do I dare call you by your given name?

  Warmth flooded her senses as she pictured the way he appeared when she’d come down the stairs in her ball gown. His jaw had dropped, and he’d stared at her hard, before his gaze had softened into something else, something that caused a slight curve to his lips and a flutter in her heart.

  She sighed. Was this an infatuation? She’d never been in love, or even had a beau before. No, it must be admiration, because that was the most dominant of her feelings for her guardian. Mama dearest had put him in this impossible situation, and he was making the best of it. Poor man, his entire life interrupted by a scheming wench who cared not a fig for her own daughter.

  When she finally stopped feeling sorry for herself, Jane rose, led her horse to the low wall, and clambered onto the horse’s back. Heading back to the lane, she vowed to put all her longings out of her head. Naught would come of them. Best to hide them away, and when she reached her majority, she would go to the property left to her in Papa’s will, wherever it may be, and get on with her life.

  Ralston was right. This was her home now. She had nothing to return to in Baltimore or anywhere else. Maddie would be happy living with her brother’s family. She’d talked of them often.

  As her horse trotted down the lane, she spied a coach in the distance, tipped at an odd angle. She approached cautiously, aware that it was highly improper for her to be out at this hour—any hour—alone. A man stood at the head of the horses and another crouched near a wheel. The latter stood as she approached and took off his hat.

  “Good morning.”

  “I daresay, it isn’t a good one for you, sir. Did you damage your wheel?”

  He squinted into the sun, lifting his palm to shade his eyes. “Jocelyn? Good God, what are you doing up at this hour and here of all places? Shouldn’t you be in London getting your beauty sleep? Not that you need it.”

  Jane’s wits flew out of her head. The gentleman had addressed her, and if her memory served, the address was rather intimate. Never would she have dreamed that she would encounter someone known to her sister.

  She swallowed and tried hard to remember the proper inflection her accent needed. He thought she was Jocelyn. So be it. “I am visiting my guardian’s aunt for a few days. Rusticating in the Cotswolds before the big day.”

  “Ah yes, I am looking forward to your birthday ball. Promise to save me the first waltz. If it is already promised, I’ll take the second.”

  She smiled and nodded, hoping he wouldn’t press her. Who was this? Hopefully he wouldn’t find it odd that she didn’t use his name.

  “My lord.” A man in livery rode bareback on what must be one of the coach horses. “The blacksmith will be coming shortly to fix the wheel.” He bowed and took the horse back to the front of the coach.

  “Well that takes care of that. I do hope it isn’t serious. I’m on my way to my uncle’s estate. He’ll be irate if I’m late.”

  “I’m sure you’ll manage.”

  He stepped closer, and Jane was glad her bonnet hid most of her features. “You seem different, somehow. Nervous. Here you are just past dawn riding without a groom or maid in attendance. Tut. What will Leisterbridge think of his betrothed acting so improperly?”

  “I’m not betrothed yet.”

  “No. You’re not.” His smile faded, and a stricken look supplanted the smug look he’d had before. “What happened to us, Joss?”

  Good Lord, was this one of her sister’s castoffs?

  Thanking Lady Amelia for her thorough teachings, she turned away and spoke to the air. “This is not a proper conversation.”

  He shrugged and nodded. “It is not. I apologize.”

  A wagon approached from the opposite direction, just in time to her way of thinking.

  “This must be the blacksmith. I’ll bid you good morning and be on my way.”

  He bowed, his smile back. “Remember to save me that waltz.”

  She turned her horse into the lane and trotted past. If anyone else thought it odd that a lady was out at this hour, she was sure no one would remark on it. The man she’d spoken to was a gentleman on his way elsewhere, and while the others might gossip, no one of importance to her would be the recipient of their news.<
br />
  Finding her seat once again, she urged the horse into a gallop. She’d passed a test of sorts. While the man thought she was Jocelyn, she at least was able to converse without him remarking on her accent or her dress or anything else.

  And she’d made an interesting discovery.

  Her sister had her own unconventional streak. She’d once had a more intimate relationship than was strictly proper with a man other than the one she was supposed to marry.

  That man wasn’t entirely over her.

  Jane had once loved a good mystery. A surfeit of them had put her off. Unfortunately, her sister would now have to improvise during her next encounter with the gentleman . . . especially when he bowed to her at her ball and claimed the first waltz. Or the second.

  Oh dear, have I caused a problem for the impeccable Lady Jocelyn, the twin who has Mama’s undying devotion and attention?

  She should feel remorse.

  Maddie would scold me if she were here for having uncharitable thoughts.

  Maddie wasn’t here.

  Chapter 18

  She found Lord Ralston seated at the table when she entered the dining room. His quick smile turned sour. “Out already? Where are you going?”

  “Actually I’m returning. I like to watch the sun rise, and there is beautiful scenery here.”

  He slammed down the newssheet he was reading. “Are you daft? Riding at dawn. I suppose you didn’t think to have a groom accompany you. Have I not told you to do so when you go out riding?”

  She took off her bonnet and gloves, handing them to a footman. “I didn’t want to wake anyone at that hour. I’m sure if the grooms were up, they had other duties. I often rode at dawn at home. It’s peaceful.”

  Her guardian swept his hand through his hair and addressed her in a quieter tone. “Jane. This is not America. If you encounter someone, he would think it odd in the extreme to see a lady riding alone, and some ruffian might take advantage of you.”

  She seated herself and poured a cup of coffee. “Is this the talk you keep telling me we should have? Do you mean highwaymen or vagabonds? I assure you, no self-respecting highwaymen would be out at this hour. Even vagabonds would be asleep somewhere in a shed or stable.”

  “Now you are an authority on thieves, I suppose.”

  She sipped from her cup and gazed at the toast on Ralston’s plate. Signaling the footman waiting by the door, she asked for two slices of toast and a pot of jam. “The only beings out in the lane at this hour would be sheep, a flock of birds, and a traveler whose coach had a broken wheel.”

  His head shot up. “You met a traveler?”

  She tried hard to suppress a smile and failed. “Not only did I encounter him, the gentleman knew me.”

  Ralston’s eyes widened in apparent alarm. Jane was enjoying this. She couldn’t wait for his questions.

  “That’s impossible. Someone from America?”

  “No, someone from London.”

  “Who? How?”

  She loved his expression—part panic, part disbelief. “He didn’t give me his name, and as you properly surmise, it was not someone I had ever met. He recognized me—as Jocelyn—and I didn’t disabuse him.”

  “I can’t believe this. We’ve been so careful to keep you away from prying eyes. He thought you were your sister? What exactly did he say, and how did you respond? Think carefully. This could be very important.”

  She sipped her coffee and tried to act nonchalant. Ralston was making too much of this encounter. She’d handled herself well, or as well as could be expected under the circumstances. “He seemed surprised to see me here. I said I was visiting my guardian’s aunt. He said he was looking forward to the birthday ball and asked me to save a waltz.”

  “He didn’t seem surprised you didn’t address him by name?”

  “Not at all. In fact, he seemed to be on intimate terms with my twin. He didn’t call me Lady Jocelyn. He used my given name, and he said an odd thing before he left.”

  “What was that?”

  “He said, ‘What happened to us, Joss?’ I ignored him, told him I had to be on my way, and left.”

  Ralston sat back in his chair and glared. “You’re right. It sounds like something may have happened between them in the past.”

  She allowed herself a smile. “I told you I handled myself well, and you should be proud. Not once did he say anything about my accent or even think I was not who he assumed.”

  “There is that.”

  “So are you ready to report to my dear mama that I can be safely introduced to London society?”

  He started to say something to her, then pursed his lips. Was he hiding something? After folding his napkin, he laid it next to his plate, averting his eyes.

  He moved his chair back and crossed his legs. “I’ve had word from the steward at Seacliff Cottage. He has documents requiring my signature and several projects to discuss.”

  The footman placed her breakfast in front of her, giving her time to think about what he’d said. Seacliff Cottage. Was that not the name of the property she was to inherit when she came of age? She took a bite of toast and then another, chewing slowly while she thought about broaching her next request.

  “I believe Seacliff Cottage is the property Papa left to me. Is it far? If you’re going there, why don’t you take me with you? I’d love to see my inheritance.”

  He scowled and fingered the newssheet. “It wouldn’t be proper.”

  “Why? You are my guardian. Mary can accompany us. For that matter, we can take Lady Amelia if she’s willing. Make a party of it.”

  He let out a long breath and glared. “You are most persistent, aren’t you?”

  “It’s how I get what I want.”

  “And to think I once believed you to be shy and docile.”

  “I am. Have I not done everything I have been told to do?”

  He choked as he tried to suppress a laugh. The mirth reflected in his eyes gave him away. “Indeed.”

  “Can we? How far away is it? Perhaps I can ride there on my own.”

  He set the paper aside. “You cannot ride there on your own. We’ll go in the carriage. Even if Aunt wishes to remain, Mary’s presence will lend enough propriety to the excursion since the housekeeper is a gentlewoman.

  “What do you mean?”

  “She’s the third daughter of a baronet whose family was impoverished. Instead of being a governess or a companion, she chose to be a housekeeper when she married the steward of Seacliff Cottage.”

  “A love story. I like that.”

  He sat back and studied her until she squirmed.

  “Why are you looking at me, sir?”

  “I wouldn’t have thought you to be a romantic. You seem more practical, someone who might approve of an arranged marriage with beneficial consequences for each party.”

  “You must be speaking of my parents.”

  “I wasn’t, but now that you mention them, they do fit the pattern. According to my sister, while they were never close, they respected each other. Your father placed a sizeable part of your mother’s inheritance in a trust for her when he left. Apparently your grandparents died not long after the marriage.”

  “So there are no living relatives besides my mother and sister. I had hoped I might have a cousin or a grandparent.”

  Ralston sipped his coffee and stared off into space. “Actually, you do. Your paternal grandmother is still living. I believe she resides in Scotland. No doubt she is being consulted about who the next Lord Siltsbury shall be.”

  Would wonders never cease? “I have a grandmother? May I visit her?”

  “In due time. For now we must complete your whirlwind education. Your sister’s birthday ball is in a week, and thereafter, your mother will be sending for you.”

/>   “’Tis my birthday as well.”

  “Yes, it is.” He rose. “I have an errand to run. If you wish to meet after Aunt breaks her fast, we’ll approach her about the trip to the seashore.”

  “I find I’m hungry after all and will order a more substantial breakfast.”

  Jane admired his grace as he exited the room. He never minced his steps, but had a long, purposeful stride that exhibited the power in his legs and the tightness of his backside.

  She caught herself sighing. What was this preoccupation with the male form, and why did her guardian’s smile set her heart beating faster?

  He was right. She had never before considered herself a romantic. Now the room seemed to heat a few degrees whenever she was in the man’s presence, and at night, in her warm bed, she imagined what it might be like to have him touch her in all the places set to tingling when she thought of him.

  Something is desperately wrong with me, and I have no female to confide in.

  Now they would be taking another trip. Part of her was excited about seeing a property she would someday inherit. The other part was thrilled that Gilbert Carmichael, Lord Ralston, would be her guide.

  Curiosity gained the upper hand. Where was the cottage? Would she like it?

  And the other news he’d shared now pushed itself to the forefront of her mind.

  I have a grandmother.

  She bounced out of the room and up the stairs to sit in her favorite chair to contemplate these turns of events.

  Chapter 19

  Afternoon lessons ended early. Lady Amelia’s head ached, and she’d taken to her bed, leaving Jane free to wander about the garden. Beautiful spring days should not be spent indoors. She grabbed a book on horticulture from a library shelf and made her way outside to find a place to read.

  A commotion in the stable led her there. Ralston, his coat and waistcoat abandoned, sat on a stool with sleeves rolled to his elbows while he ran his hands over the flank of his stallion.

  Jane watched in fascination while he spoke in calming tones to the restless horse.