When Scandal Came to Town (Scandalous Sons 3)

How the devil did they know?

“You’re mistaken,” Benedict replied with an air of arrogance. “Worthen’s daughter is the last woman I would bed.”

Cassandra stiffened in his arms. From the erratic jerks of her body, he knew she was crying.

“Och, there’s no point hiding the fact. The letter reveals the lady’s name.” McCreath drew his hand down his wiry red beard and sighed. “You’ll need Tregarth’s help if you’re to survive this scandal, laddie.”

Benedict saw no point in minding his manners now. No point in attempting to disguise Cassandra’s identity. “Then I’m sure you’ve all seen enough to send you scurrying back into the cesspit eager to spread your deadly tales.”

Purcell’s frog eyes bulged. “Says the gutter rat to his superiors. Tregarth is a fool. He should have cast this ill-bred reprobate aside long ago.”

McCreath threw Purcell a hard stare. “Mind your tongue. Highland lairds make a trophy from the ballocks of a man who insults his friends.”

It took a few seconds for Purcell to decide how to respond. He took one look at McCreath’s broad shoulders, shook his head and said, “It’s one thing to whore your way around town, Cavanagh. Another to ruin an innocent and still expect people to open their doors to you.”

“As always, Lord Purcell, you judge a man guilty without giving him a fair trial.” Benedict lowered Cassandra down slowly until her bare feet touched the grass. He slid a strong arm around her back to keep her upright and held her close to his chest. “Men like you have no interest in the truth. Men like you prey on other people’s weaknesses to divert attention away from your own.”

“Perhaps you should stand as a spokesman for the Whigs, Mr Cavanagh,” Drummond said with a chuckle. “We need men willing to speak for the downtrodden.”

Purcell had clearly heard enough. With a muttered curse, he edged his horse around, whipped the reins and galloped back to the Row. Forrester had the means to supply his wife with the latest gossip and so was hot on Lord Purcell’s heels.

“Have heart, Mr Cavanagh,” Drummond said. “If you’re a clever man, you might turn this scandal to your advantage.” And with that, he rode away, too.

McCreath nudged his mount closer. “Do you need help lifting the lass onto your horse?”

Cassandra shook her head. She slid her arms around Benedict’s waist and pressed her face to his neckcloth. The feel of her gripping him tightly sent his world spinning.

“No, though I thank you for challenging Purcell.”

“I’ll have no man speak ill of your father. Aye, certainly not a weasel like Purcell.” McCreath glanced at the lady locked in Benedict’s embrace. “What will you do now?”

He would do the only thing he could under the circumstances. He would return to Cavendish Square and explain the situation to Lord Worthen. Benedict was no longer the fearful boy ashamed of his lineage. “At present, I must focus on leaving the park posthaste. After that … well … I imagine once the gossip wheel starts turning, events will take the expected course.”

McCreath inclined his head at Benedict’s vague reply. “I can return with a carriage, should the lass prefer to head north of the border. An elopement would be the simple solution.”

Benedict snorted. Nothing in his life was simple.

Cassandra gripped the back of Benedict’s waistcoat in response. The lady had no desire to marry him at all, let alone travel three hundred miles for the pleasure.

“Again, I thank you for the offer, McCreath, but I must see the lady safely home.” Curious as to the contents of McCreath’s letter, he said, “Strange that I, too, received a letter prompting me to ride here this morning. Mine specifically said to arrive at the Serpentine at dawn. How convenient you arrived twenty minutes later.”

Could it be a coincidence?

“The instructions said to meet at the Cumberland Gate just after the break of dawn.”

The Cumberland Gate? And he’d been told to come to Hyde Park Corner via Piccadilly.

“Aye, we might have arrived ten minutes sooner,” McCreath continued, “but Forrester tried to persuade us to leave and then argued with Purcell.”

Cassandra Mills’ ruination was a carefully constructed plan that might never have come to fruition had they all ignored the letters. But then the sender had been extremely persuasive. Indeed, to achieve the desired result, the villain needed but one man out of the four to nibble the bait.

Cassandra tugged on his waistcoat and whispered, “Take me home, Benedict.”

“We should leave, McCreath, before someone else stumbles upon this carefully constructed scene.” Lord knows what other devilish plans the mysterious kidnapper had up his sleeve.

McCreath steered his horse to face the parkland. “I’ll not keep this matter from your father. Not when Purcell will take pleasure informing him that I bore witness to the scandal.”

“Do what you must.” Tregarth would hear of it from other sources soon enough.