Page 7 of My Kind of Scoundel
What was the man thinking?
“Your betrothed?” Mrs Dunwoody fluttered her fan as if warding off a dreadful stench. “I suppose a modiste is a step up from those who sleep in the gutter. Your poor grandfather must be turning in his grave.”
“One can live in hope,” Mr Chance countered. “I pray he’s fodder for the worms. A man who disowns his kin deserves to rot in hell.”
“Your father was the devil incarnate,” the snooty woman snapped. “He deserved to lose everything. There is always one scoundrel in a litter. You’ve proven you’re no different.”
Unable to hold her tongue, Eleanor said, “The Lord holds everyone to account, Mrs Dunwoody. When the day of reckoning comes, the Earl of Berridge will need to atone for leaving his young nephews on the street.”
How could anyone sit idly while four boys were thrown out of their dead father’s house and left to fend for themselves in the rookeries?
Mr Chance snorted. “I could not have worded it better myself, Miss Darrow.”
He did not question how she knew his family history. A modiste was party to all manner of gossip. She knew many of theton’s secrets. Why else would she be in this terrible predicament?
Mr Chance offered Eleanor his arm. “Now, if you willexcuse us, we must return to our box.” Before the lord could protest, Mr Chance parted the curtains and gestured for her to sit in the plush velvet chair.
Being a coward of the highest order, the viscount dithered while Mrs Dunwoody stormed into the box. Her beady gaze fell on Aramis Chance and she faltered. “This is a p-private box belonging to the Earl of Berridge. You will vacate it immediately.”
Aramis Chance ignored the woman.
Theodore Chance remained standing. “Berridge is our uncle. We are permitted to occupy the family box.”
Mrs Dunwoody pressed her case. “What poppycock. Your father relinquished the right to call himself family thirty years ago when he stole the silver and shot a man in Hyde Park.”
“Two men in Hyde Park,” Theodore corrected. “Though I believe it was self-defence.”
“I shall fetch the manager and have you forcibly removed.”
“Before you do, I suggest you read the contract. As a blood relative, I have a right to sit in this box.”
Viscount Wrotham found the courage to take up the reins. “King George himself decreed your father should be disowned. You’re no longer family. You’ve no claim here.”
Members of the audience shifted their attention to the box. Midway through her soliloquy, an actress glanced their way, too.
Theodore Chance grinned. “George is no longer king. One could argue he was not of sound mind sixteen years ago. For reasons I cannot discuss, our family has King William’s favour. Let us take the matter up with him. I believe he will agree there was a conspiracy to oust us. By rights, my eldestbrother is in line to inherit an earldom when your father meets his maker.”
Mrs Dunwoody blanched.
Viscount Wrotham struggled to muster a reply.
“You’re playing into our hands, Wrotham. Aramis will call your father out for slandering our name and inciting men to murder us. I shall call you out for insulting my betrothed. While you’re rotting in a shallow grave, our brother Aaron will be the next Earl of Berridge.”
A tense silence ensued.
“Is this how you mean to seek vengeance?” Lady Lucille said, jumping to the same conclusion most conceited women would. “If you’re doing this to hurt me, it won’t change anything between us.”
Mr Chance chuckled as if the notion were ridiculous. “The fact you think this is about you tells me everything I need to know. Go home, my lady, and take your weak-chinned affianced with you.” His expression darkened. “Go now, else there’ll be hell to pay.”
The craven trio backed out of the box.
Mrs Dunwoody uttered something derogatory as a final farewell, but a scream of laughter from the audience drowned out the cutting remark.
Eleanor breathed a sigh of relief. She was one step closer to reclaiming her sewing box. Yes, Lady Lucille would probably warn her friends to find a new modiste, but Eleanor would not die tonight.
“Well, thank you for an entertaining evening, Mr Chance, but I have business elsewhere.” Having wasted enough time, she bid his family farewell and gathered her cloak. “May I have a private word outside?”
The amusement in his eyes confirmed he was unaware of the secrets hidden inside the box. “Of course.”
