Last Night's Scandal (The Dressmakers 5)

“I don’t have to encourage them,” she said. “DeLucey women attract men. And men, by and large, are idiots. That includes you. You were looking for an excuse to fight, just as he was.”

“Perhaps I was,” Lisle said. “I can’t remember when last I had so much fun thrashing somebody.”

He offered his bruised and dirty hand to help her keep her balance on the narrow carriage step. She looked down at his hand and raised an eyebrow.

“Squeamish?” he said.

“Not likely,” she said. “I was thinking that’s going to hurt later.”

“It was worth it,” he said.

Men, she thought.

She took his hand, climbed into the carriage, and settled onto her seat. Bailey followed and took the seat opposite.

“I’m not sure the fun of beating Belder will be worth the price,” she said.

“I’m used to black eyes and sore jaws,” he said.

“That isn’t what I meant,” she said. “Your parents won’t be pleased when they hear about it.”

He shrugged.

“You’d better let me drive you home,” she said.

He shook his head. “It’s out of your way. Nichols will be along in a minute, as soon as he recovers my hat.”

The slim valet hurried toward them at that moment, brushing at Lisle’s hat with his handkerchief.

Bailey gave Lisle’s handsome manservant a sharp glance, and sniffed disdainfully. “We’d better go straight home, miss,” she said.

“She’s right,” Lisle said. “It won’t be long before all of London hears how you beat Belder with your umbrella. You’ll want to be at home before the news arrives, so you can shape the tale to suit you.”

It wouldn’t matter what version of the story Olivia gave her parents. They were growing tired of the scandals. Grandmama and Grandpapa Hargate would have something to say, too, and that wouldn’t be pleasant. They thought it was long past time she was married. She needed a husband and children to settle her, they believed. They’d settled all their children satisfactorily. But their offspring were all men, and they weren’t in the least like her. No one was like her, except other Dreadful DeLuceys: restless, untrustworthy creatures.

If she married, her life would narrow down to wifehood and motherhood, and she’d spend the years slowly suffocating. She’d never do anything truly interesting, ever again. Certainly, she’d never have the great adventures she’d always dreamed of.

Not that she had much hope of any at present, in a society bound by increasingly strict rules.

But so long as she was nobody’s wife—and so long as Great-Grandmama was alive, to stand up to the others for her—Olivia had a measure of freedom, at least.

She wouldn’t give that up until she had absolutely no other choice.

“Join us for dinner,” she told Lisle. “We can talk then.”

“I reckon I’d better wash first,” he said.

He grinned at her, looking for a moment like a grubby schoolboy, and reminding her of the schoolboy who’d pummeled Nat Diggerby and played the part of her loyal squire en route to Bristol.

The grin, combined with the recollection, set things fluttering inside her. “I reckon you’d better,” she said.

He closed the carriage door.

She sat back in her seat, so that she wouldn’t be tempted to look out of the window and watch him walk away.

She felt the carriage bounce slightly as the footmen leapt up to their places. One of them rapped on the carriage roof, and the vehicle lurched into motion.

After a minute or two, Bailey said, “Miss, you’ve still got his lordship’s handkerchief.”

Olivia looked down at it. She’d have it laundered, then add it to her collection. The glove of her right hand concealed the scarab he’d sent her long ago. She’d had it made into a ring, which she wore constantly. There were his letters as well, too few of them: one for every half dozen of hers.

She had his friendship and every one of his letters. She had the trinkets he’d sent her and odd, rubbishy remembrances she’d collected. That, she knew, was as much as anyone would ever get from him. He’d given himself—heart and mind and soul—to Egypt a long time ago.

“He won’t miss it,” she said.

Atherton House

The same evening

“Oh, Peregrine, how could you?” Lady Atherton wailed. “Brawling! Like a common ruffian! In the Strand, of all places, for all the world to see!”

She turned to her husband. “You see, Jasper? This is what comes of leaving Rupert Carsington in charge of him for all these years.”

That was completely illogical. Lisle had been getting into fights for as long as he could remember. He hadn’t needed any guidance from Uncle Rupert in that department. He’d never in his life run from a fight, no matter who the adversary or how big or how many. Never had, never would.

“You’ve turned into a savage!” his father raged. “You cannot even present a paper to the Society of Antiquaries without instigating a riot.”

“Hardly a riot,” Lisle said. “More like a scuffle. The papers have more interesting matters to report.”

“The newspapers like nothing better than lurid stories about men fighting over Olivia Carsington,” Mama said. “I cannot believe you let her make a fool of you, too. I am mortified. How shall I face my friends after this? How shall I hold my head up?” She sank onto the chaise longue and burst into tears.

“This is what comes of indulging your Egyptian nonsense,” said Father. “Well, I’m putting a stop to it, once and for all. Until I see a glimmer of filial duty, a semblance of gentlemanly behavior, you shall not get another farthing from me.”

Lisle stared at him for a moment. He’d expected a scene, naturally. He would have been shocked if his parents had not ranted and raved.

But this was new. He wasn’t sure he’d heard aright. Like other noblemen’s sons, Lisle was utterly dependent on his father financially. Money was all he got from his parents. They’d never given him affection or understanding. Those the Carsingtons gave him, abundantly. But he couldn’t go to the Carsingtons for money.

“You’re cutting me off?” he said.

“You’ve mocked us, ignored us, used us, and abused our generosity,” Father said. “We’ve borne it all patiently, but this time you’ve gone too far. You’ve embarrassed your mother.”

On cue, his mother fainted.

“This is mad,” Lisle said. “How am I to live?”

His father hurried to his mother’s side to ad

minister smelling salts. “If you want money, you’ll do as other gentlemen do,” he said as he tenderly lifted Mother’s head from the pillow onto which it had conveniently fallen. “You’ll respect your parents’ wishes. You’ll go to Scotland as we ask, and you’ll assume responsibility for once in your life. You’ll go to Egypt again over my dead body!”

Lisle didn’t come to dinner, after all. Late in the afternoon, Olivia received a note from him:

If I come to dinner, I’ll have to kill somebody. Best to keep away. You’re probably in enough trouble.

L

She wrote back:

It isn’t safe to Write. Meet me at Hyde Park Corner. Tomorrow. Ten o’clock in the Morning. DO NOT FAIL ME.

O

Hyde Park

The following morning

Only a few years ago, London’s most fashionable gentlemen could be counted on to take a stroll in Hyde Park every morning, then return at the fashionable hour, between five and seven o’clock in the afternoon.

These days a stroll in the forenoon was not merely unfashionable but vulgar.

Morning was, therefore, the perfect time for a Clandestine Rendezvous, as Olivia would have written in one of her missives.

She was late, naturally, and Lisle had never been good at waiting. But he forgot his impatience when she came into view, a great pale blue plume waving from the top of her hat like a banner carried into battle. She wore a riding dress of military cut, of a deep blue that matched her eyes.

The low slant of morning sun caught the curly hair escaping the confines of her hat and pins, and made it shimmer like garnets.

When she came alongside him, he still hadn’t caught his breath.

“You’ve no idea the difficulty I had getting away from Bailey,” she said. “You’d think she’d be glad to be excused, as she hates riding in Town, but no, she was determined to come with me. I had the devil’s own time persuading her to stay and allay suspicion. As it was, I was obliged to take a groom.” She tipped her beplumed head in the direction of a young male in livery trailing at a tactful distance behind her. “Not that you and I have anything to hide, but all the family are vexed with me for getting you into the fight with Belder.”