Marquess of Menace (Lords of Scandal 10)

The man was trouble.

Eliza knew when a man was best left alone. Too handsome by half, as near as she could tell, Menace had never worked an honest day in his life.

She gave an indelicate snort as she watched him walk out the doors.

“Don’t make such noises, dear.” Her Aunt Mildred patted her arm. “It isn’t polite.”

Eliza frowned at the other woman who wasn’t actually her aunt. The truth was, she was an actress that Eliza and her sisters had hired to play the part of their real aunt. The actual Mildred hadn’t left Scotland in twenty-five years, which made impersonating the lairdess exceedingly easy.

The why of the whole situation was a bit more complicated.

It started with her mother’s death and her father’s disappearance.

Her mother’s death hadn’t actually been the complicated part, which had been a standard case of disease of the lung. Funny how the mundane could be so heart wrenching. But their father, a merchant, had been on a trip to the Orient when she’d passed.

They’d made several attempts to contact him but to no avail. Lucas Carrington had neither returned home nor written to say when he might. It had been almost a year since they’d received any communication from him.

She covered her stomach as nerves raced along her skin. And their uncle, their mother’s sister’s husband, had had their father declared dead and seized any assets he could get his claw-like hands on.

Including Eliza and her sisters. Malcolm had tried to marry them off to whatever man would have them. More accurately, he wished to sell Eliza to the highest bidder to collect the purse, but her younger sister, Isabella, had met and married a duke. The Duke of Devonhall now had all four Carrington sisters under his protection.

Which was a blessing at this exact moment. Because her uncle stood next to her with the noxious Mr. Taber.

“Eliza,” the man hissed as he reached for her arm, gripping her too hard. “I know you remember our friend, Mr. Taber.”

Taber gave her a greasy smile, his eyes wandering all over her. “Miss Carrington.” He stepped closer, the odor of him filling her nostrils and curling her nose. He stank of old cigar and body odor, his hair slicked back giving him a greasy appearance.

“Mr. Taber,” she replied coolly. Her uncle had planned to marry her to this man before Devonhall had stepped in.

“I wondered if I might have the pleasure of a dance.” His gaze travelled over her body again, lighting with greedy desire.

She shivered. Then he reached out a hand, his nails overly long in a way that made them resemble talons and touched her bare shoulder. She stepped aside. “Apologies, but my dance card is full.”

Her uncle made a noise of dissent, tightening the hand of her other arm. “Then why are you standing here?”

“I am waiting for my escort, though you may have frightened him off,” she replied, notching her chin higher. She refused to be intimidated by her uncle. He had no sway over her.

He yanked at her arm, causing her to lose her balance and lean closer. “Listen to me, girl,” he hissed in her ear. “You may think that you can get away from me, but I am still your uncle and you’ll do as I say.”

“I won’t,” she fired back.

Mr. Taber sneered. “It’s all right, Malcolm. I like a filly that needs to be broken.”

That made her start. The words were so coarse and deep-down crass that she attempted to take a half step back. And Eliza never ran from anything.

But this man was dangerous and so was her uncle. Her stomach roiled as she considered the idea of intimacy with him. A shiver ran down her spine. She couldn’t. She would not allow this man to touch her. Ever.

Eliza and Isabella had decided that the best way to keep all the sisters safe was to marry each of them to a respectable man and so they were attending every party they could gain an invitation to in order to officially enter the marriage mart.

As soon as her sisters were married…she’d be free of her uncle and his schemes forever.

Of course, in the meantime, partaking in society meant her uncle could easily find them. Her sister and new husband usually attended but they’d taken an evening for themselves. A miscalculation. Eliza would have to tell them that Devonhall needed to be with them at every event. She nearly sighed. Bash had taken on a great deal of responsibility when he married her sister.

She looked back at the Menace, clearly visible on the terrace.

Despite his title, the Marquess of Menace was not on the list of potential candidates. He was a man no respectable woman should marry.

Not that Eliza was all that respectable. In the period between her mother’s passing and her sister’s wedding, Eliza had done a great many things that would have ostracized her from society, but she regretted none of them. She’d do them all again to save her sisters.