Page 24 of His Wicked Secret
Jonathan had heard rumors about James’s mother, the Countess of Pembroke, how she was ill and James rarely left London for fear of not being there if she took a turn for the worse. He spent most of his nights at the Wicked Earls’ Club run by a fellow named Coventry, though it was said he only sought solitude there. A house party would do him good. It would do both them good, if he were being honest. Godric continued to remind Jonathan how much he needed to practice being out in society. To socialize and interact. As if that was easy.
The glass of brandy felt soothing in his palms as he rolled it. “Do you ever feel like you’re an outsider looking in on this world? Like your face is pressed to the glass? All you hear is muffled, and what you see is a bit blurred. And most maddening of all, you can’t get any closer?” He felt like a damned fool for confessing such a thing, but James’s reply was comforting.
“More than you know.”
We’re both lost in this world.
“Jonathan, tell me everything about Miss Beaumont.Please. I need to know.”
Pembroke was smitten indeed. He could sympathize. But there were ways he could give the man what he wanted without revealing everything. “I can tell you the small things- her favorite color, the way she takes her tea, her favorite books- but I cannot tell you much more than that. She has her reasons for her privacy.”
“So I’ve been told,” James grumbled. “Tell me everything you can.”
If they were going to discuss women, he wanted to keep busy; otherwise, he would worry too much about the bargain he had made with Audrey and whether she was brave enough to meet his terms. He nodded toward the door. “Very well, how about a game of billiards while we talk?”
James agreed, and the two of them departed for the billiard room. Jonathan hoped the game could help him forget for a time about his own problems with the troublesome Lady Society.
7
There were few things more frustrating than sitting through a long carriage ride with a fretful lady’s maid. After listening for two hours to Gillian worry about the house party, Audrey breathed a sigh of relief as the coach finally stopped at Rochester Hall, her sister’s country residence. If only Gillian could take a breath, Audrey knew everything would be all right. She had plans to make this week perfect for Gillian and James.
Audrey tipped her head back, admiring the lovely ancestral home of her brother-in-law, the Marquess of Rochester. The Palladian architecture of Lucien’s estate was beautiful, the wide columns, the pale ashlar stone. The house looked as if it had withstood a century with ease and would stand several more. It wasn’t the first time Audrey had been here. She’d visited often over the last ten years, but it felt new each time she arrived. There was a magic to Rochester Hall that was undeniable. It was a place where dreams and dynasties collided. And now her sister, Horatia, ran it like a benevolent queen, with a little help from Lucien’s mother, Jane. The two got along famously, which was a blessing.
“I think this is a terrible idea,” Gillian complained as she followed Audrey out of the coach.
“Nonsense. I had to watch you mope about for an entire week, and now you owe me.” She flashed her maid a saccharine smile. Everything had been set into motion for Gillian’s own good, though she would never see it that way. Gillian had faced a hard life, but now it was time to be brave and fight for something better, and she wasn’t going to let her maid back down.
“But to act like a lady when I am not one—”
“Hush. You are lady and gently born. Your circumstances after that do not make you any less of one.” She reached up and tucked a curl of hair back into Gillian’s hood to make sure her friend looked perfect. Gillian blushed and tugged on the edges of the cloak.
If it was the last thing Audrey would do, she was going to convince her friend that she was worthy of the man who called to her heart. All the pieces were in place. Her sister was to tell the servants that Gillian was preparing to play a lady in an upcoming performance at another house party, and the guests were to have no idea of her true identity. Gillian did not approve of the idea, but she would warm up to it soon enough.
“Horatia knows to put you in a room close to mine, and the servants who know you have been made aware of the situation.” Her tone was a tad breezy perhaps, but she wanted to make sure Gillian felt there was nothing to worry about.
“The situation?” Gillian hissed. “What exactly did you tell them?”
She sighed. “That you are learning to act the part of the lady so we might be actresses in a play that some friends in London are putting on in a few weeks. You are helping me in the act and therefore must play the part of a lady in the story. Horatia knows it’s really because we are perfecting our skills for espionage. She doesn’t like me spying, but I convinced her that you and I would stay close to London, so she thinks it is safe enough.”
Her maid’s dramatic gasp caused Audrey’s eyes to roll. “Spying? My lady—”
“Audrey. You’d best get into the habit of calling me that. The rest of the guests will think it curious if you keep calling memy lady. For the next several days, you are a lady yourself. Do not forget it.”
Audrey lowered her hood as they reached the door to Rochester Hall. A group of footmen darted down the steps toward them to gather their luggage and cloaks.
“You are Miss Beaumont,” she reminded Gillian in a low voice. “Don’t forget, no matter what.”
“Audrey!”
Her sister appeared in the doorway, and she was a most welcome sight. Horatia rested a hand over her stomach, grinning. Audrey could scarcely believe that her sister was due to have a child in a month. Her face was glowing, and her brown eyes were bright. The Duchess of Essex’s baby was due in January, and Cedric, Audrey’s brother, was also expecting a little one around the same time. What a joy to become an aunt twice over in just one year. Yet a twinge of sorrow stung her heart. It seemed she was never to be married, never to have children. Two things she had longed for since she’d come of age.
“Sister!” Audrey hugged Horatia and fought back the sudden rush of tears. It seemed so long since Horatia had left the Sheridan townhouse. For as long as she could remember, she, Horatia, and Cedric had survived together, just the three of them, bound by the tragedy of losing their parents so young. But then Horatia had left, and now Cedric was happily married. Everything in her life had shifted. It was no longer what she was used to, and while there was more joy, there were days when Audrey felt listless and melancholy, though few other than Gillian ever saw that side of her. She sniffed and regained control before her sister noticed anything was amiss.
Horatia gently released Audrey and greeted Gillian. “Miss Beaumont. Don’t worry; everything is prepared. Simply enjoy yourself and relax.”
“Thank you,” Gillian replied, blushing but keeping her head high.
That’s it, Gillian. Be the young lady you were meant to be.
