‘My lady!’ Ellen leaped to her feet, dipping into a curtsy as a sudden rush of heat collected on her neck and cheeks. How much had the dowager overheard?
‘Didn’t anyone ever teach ye to knock?’ Calum growled at his grandmother.
Lady Faye just smiled. ‘I put to you both that Calum isn’t a pattern-book duke. And you, my gel, are hardly a pattern-book companion.’
‘I didn’t mean…’ Ellen began, not having any idea where she was going with her utterance.
‘I’ll have you know that I don’t care one dusting that Gwen is your daughter. Of course I don’t. She’s the sweetest, dearest little thing I’ve ever met. And if the reason you never told me about her was because you thought I would toss you out on your ear, I shall never forgive you. In fact, I might just suffer from my first ever fit of the vapours.’ She pressed the back of one hand to her forehead, tottering forward on bended legs.
Ellen rushed to her side, guiding her to the settee, more out of obligation to fulfil her role in this dramatic display than from any actual necessity. Lady Faye had the constitution of a hardened soldier. If anyone was going to suffer a fit of the vapours, it would probably be herself.
Displaying the true gentleman Calum was, it took a light kick to the shins to persuade him to give up his seat. His scowl deepened but eventually he rose laboriously to his feet. ‘Listening through the keyhole again, were you?’ he asked dryly, taking up his new position by the dampened fire, one hand resting along the length of the mantel.
He looked more relaxed than at any point during their private conversation. And now his surprise had lessened, he’d slipped back into his Oxbridge voice. One day she was going to ask if he did it on purpose—although she suspected not.
‘You insult me,’ scoffed Lady Faye with an equally formidable scowl. She reclined along the settee, one leg up, one leg down. ‘I was delivering you the tea tray myself.’ And she gestured to the ground by the door where the deserted tray sat. ‘You really should redecorate this room, Cal. It’s not fit for entertaining. A couple of armchairs at the very least. A mirror or two—’
‘Don’t try changing the subject,’ he growled, and Ellen could have kicked him herself.
Yes, change the subject.
‘You’re right. For once.’ Lady Faye gestured for Ellen to sit on what little room was left on the settee.
Ellen perched on the very edge, ready to make a hasty withdrawal. Not that there was anywhere she could withdraw to. Her very presence in this house was at the sole discretion of the dowager. The dowager who now knew her greatest secret.
‘How much of our conversation did you overhear?’ Calum asked, his words as direct as his gaze.
‘I didn’t overhear anything because I wasn’t listening at the keyhole, as you so crassly put it.’ Lady Faye stuck out her lower lip, like a wilful child who’d be accused of stealing sweets.
‘I cut my eye-teeth many years ago.’ She chuckled. ‘That girl is the mirror image of her mama. I knew the instant I set my sights upon her. And then everything else just fell into place. That odious brother of yours kept going on about a secret he was prepared to reveal.’ She looked pointedly between her and Calum. ‘So, what are you going to do about it?’
‘We brought Gwen to London to keep her safe from Blackford.’ Close on, there was a tightness to Calum’s jaw and a tension to the set of his shoulders.
‘Absolutely right. She’s safer under this roof than anywhere else. We can be sure of that.’
‘Maggie would never have let anything happen to Gwen,’ said Ellen, feeling rather rattled. She hadn’t just abandoned her child to the wilds of the moors when she’d come to London.
‘Of course not.’ Lady Faye straightened, patting Ellen’s shoulder. ‘The two of you were extraordinarily brave leaving Evendale like you did. I take my hat off to you.’
To her shame, tears pricked Ellen’s eyes. She was very tired all of a sudden. Gwen was just upstairs, sound asleep, and there was nothing she wanted more than to curl up beside her daughter. She slumped back in the chair, running a hand over her face.
‘Here.’ Calum poured a cup of tea from the tray by the door, adding a generous spoonful of sugar. ‘Drink this.’
‘The tea was supposed to be for you,’ Ellen reproached.
Cal grunted a non-response and pressed the fine bone china into her hand.
‘The both of you look dead on your feet,’ said Lady Faye. ‘Drink that down Ellen, and Cal can use the cup after you. You’re engaged, after all.’ And she winked. ‘Now, since the two of you clearly don’t have any idea of how to solve your current predicament, the burden again falls to me.’ She pressed a hand solemnly to her heart.
‘What do you mean, again?’
The dowager pressed on, ignoring Calum’s interruption with practiced finesse. ‘The answer came to me in a flash of brilliance, as many of my great plans do. In fact, I’m thinking of writing a book. The Complete and Truthful Cyclopaedia of the Marvellous Exploits, Hair-Breath Escapades and Ingenious Plans of a Lady of Quality. She wrinkled her nose. ‘The title’s still a work in progress. I’m not sure about the “lady of quality” part… Does it make me sound too self-righteous?’
‘Och, get on with it,’ snapped Calum, almost smiling. Almost.
‘You take all the fun out of life.’ Another pout. ‘Very well, very well. I propose to launch Ellen into Society.’ She flung open her arms, pausing for effect.
‘Sorry?’ Ellen asked. Calum just narrowed his eyes.
‘Humph. I guess I’ll have to explain it word for word for you two scatterbrains. I intend to launch Ellen into Society.’ She turned to Ellen. ‘With a marchioness as your sponsor and a duke as your affianced, you’ll be the instant belle of the ball. Everyone will want to either be with you or be you.’
‘Those fools,’ Calum dismissed. ‘They wouldn’t know a good thing if it—’ He turned his back on them, obviously tempering his language.
Lady Faye rolled her eyes. Taking both of Ellen’s hands in her own, she wiggled closer. ‘Can you see? We’ll make you the star of everyone’s attentions and they won’t give Geoffrey a second glance, no matter what he starts saying about you or Gwen.’
‘Ahh..’ Ellen could see one rather large hole in this plan. ‘My lady, London Society is notorious for gossip.’
Calum shifted slightly. London had chewed him up and spat him back out when he’d been at his most vulnerable. Ellen didn’t want anything to do with Society. Not a single one of them deserved the time of day. It was no wonder the dowager had disappeared to the Faye estate for four years. And Calum…well, he’d locked himself away in his old, rundown house.
Lady Faye refilled the cup, handing it to Calum. ‘Society will take one look at you, a sweet country gel, newly arrived to Town, an almost-duchess, and then they’ll take one look at your brother and see—’
‘A notorious gambler and general bell swagger,’ supplied Calum.
‘Precisely. They’ll say Geoffrey’s spinning Barnaby tales just to spite you. Sibling rivalry or something of the sort. And from then on, Gwen will forever be your baby sister and Geoffrey nothing more than—’
‘A lowly fulham.’ Calum turned back to face them.
‘Precisely.’ Lady Faye beamed.
‘But I’m hardly the nonpareil,’ he pointed out. ‘Won’t Ellen being seen with me only ruin her chances of a successful Season?’
‘Nonsense. Four years have passed since the ton rejected the Duke of Woodhal. Your name has long since been cleared of any wrongdoing. By now I bet everyone is clamouring to see how you’ve been faring.’
‘Maybe…’ Calum looked thoughtful, like he was actually considering this crazy scheme. ‘Owen suggested something similar.’
‘But, my lady, you said yourself that Gwen looks just like me.’ If Lady Faye guessed, what was stopping anyone else realising the truth when they saw the two of them together?
‘It won’t matter. Geoffrey could build an entire castle of evidence against you but nobody will ever believe him. It won’t be fashionable to believe him.’
‘I see…’ Did she? Not fashionable to believe Gwen was her daughter? Had it been fashionable to believe Calum had murdered his brother on the high seas? Apparently so.
‘What I mean is that it’ll be an open secret—something everyone knows is probably true but doesn’t talk about,’ clarified the dowager. ‘Trust me, it’s not often Society works in someone’s favour, but, if we play our cards right, you’ll be the exception to the rule.’
‘So we’re actually going to put Gwen’s future in the hands of the people who ruined Calum’s?’
Lady Faye nodded. ‘Precisely.’
Calum tossed back the hot tea. ‘It’s about bloody time they did something right.’
***
There was a crease between Ellie’s brows that spoke volumes about her continued worries, despite Lady F’s assurances her plan was ‘topping’ and ‘of the first water’.
‘Don’t worry,’ Cal said, his chest tightening. ‘We’re just taking precautions to prevent a possible scandal. We don’t even know if Blackford will carry through with his threats.’ A second later he found himself standing beside the settee, a comforting hand on her shoulder. He could barely remember making the journey across the room.
He snatched back his hand, but not before Lady F had caught sight of it. She could barely suppress her smile of delight. Rising, she hurried from the room. ‘That’s right, dearest. Kiss some sense into her.’ And she snapped the door closed behind her.
‘Your grandmother is quite the chaperon.’ A light blush crept up Ellie’s neck to stain her cheeks.
If he peeled back the layers of her dress would he uncover the origin of her blush? Did it sweep down over her breasts too? His gaze dropped lower before he could help himself. Did he even want to help himself? Ellie’s breath hitched. He loved that after all the kisses they’d shared, she was still so responsive.
His cock hardened. The glorious image of Ellie with her head thrown back, her breasts practically bursting from the confines of her stays and his hand up her skirt was one he’d cherish for the rest of his life. She was a fascinatingly sensuous creature, one who’d barely begun exploring all her needs and desires, despite her efforts to hide that side of herself from everyone.
Mine. That possessive and all-consuming need to touch her, to pleasure her, to bury his cock inside her until a little of her goodness seeped inside of him washed over Cal like a storm crashing against the side of a ship.
Tzar woke with a start, jumping in surprise to see Ellie sitting on the settee in place of Cal himself. The old dog clambered to his feet, his tail wagging and his eyes fixed on the tea tray. He might be deaf but he certainly wasn’t blind. And he was always hungry. Or so he liked them to believe.
Cal took the opportunity to kneel, ignoring the shooting pain in his knee, using the arm of the chair to steady himself. He ruffled Tzar’s fur. He hoped his new position would hide the fact that his cock was tenting his breeches. While he wanted nothing more than to throw caution to the wind, he’d bet against the worst odds that Lady F had her ear pressed to the door. For all her exclamations of innocence, she was planning something, and he didn’t trust his grandmother any further than he could throw her.
And there was nothing more cock softening than the thought of his snooping grandmother.
‘I’m feeling a little guilty about Geoffrey.’ Ellie broke the silence.
‘Whyever for?’
‘It’s just…’ She tapped her forehead, obviously trying to voice her wayward thoughts. ‘He’s still my brother. And I feel like…like we’re setting him up for ridicule.’
‘Nonsense. If he keeps his mouth shut, nothing will happen.’ He had no time to spare for Geoffrey.
Ellen’s hair had been braided and wrapped around her head like a crown, and the golden firelight had turned her usual chocolate colour bronze. Majestic: that was the word that sprung to mind. But the crease between her brow had returned.
‘You’re over thinking it. If your brother’s smart, he’ll use the money he won to pay off his debts and return to Evendale. He’s a baron. Does he have much land?’
She nodded.
‘Then he’s better off than most in this world.’ And much better off than he deserved to be after everything he’d put Ellie and Gwen through.
‘Other brothers would have done worse in my situation.’
‘That’s no argument.’ Were Pierce still alive, Cal would have stuck by his side come hell or high water, just as Pierce would have stuck by him.
Something in his eyes must have betrayed the direction of his thoughts.
‘Thinking on it,’ she said with sudden bravado, flashing him one of her beautiful smiles, ‘this plan will probably work in your favour too. When I break off the engagement, I could contrive a devilish story about you being a rake and breaking my heart. If that doesn’t have all the eligible young ladies of the ton chasing after you, I don’t know what will.’
He frowned.
‘Or ineligible ladies, if that’s what you prefer,’ she quickly added.
His frown deepened.
‘Don’t try to tell me you weren’t a rake before the war? No woman would have been able to resist a face like yours.’ She laughed. ‘Mark my words, Calum Callaghan. There’s nothing so appealing to woman than a rake with sad eyes. Especially an exceptionally wealthy rake with sad eyes and a ducal estate.’
‘I don’t have sad eyes.’ He clambered to his feet, feeling much older than his thirty-three years.
‘Not right now you don’t,’ she conceded, leaning forward the better to see. ‘In fact, you’re looking more than half peevish.’
‘And it’s entirely your fault.’ Incorrigible woman! It wasn’t his life they were supposed to be meddling with. ‘I don’t want women of any eligibility chasing me, thank you very much.’ None but the one seated before him.