An Earl to Save Her Reputation Read online

  They remained silent for some minutes, Harry reclining in the armchair, Lady Fortescue standing in the middle of the room, her hands folded together in front of her abdomen, the perfect picture of demure womanhood.

  ‘So tell me,’ Harry said when he could bear the silence no longer, ‘are the rumours true?’

  His companion sighed, a deep and heartfelt sound that hinted that she’d rather be anywhere but here.

  ‘I find rumours rarely are,’ she said evasively.

  ‘Very true,’ Harry murmured. He knew better than most the damage malicious gossip could cause. ‘How do you bear it? People talking about you, speculating?’

  Lady Fortescue shrugged, an instinctive movement that she seemed to try to suppress at the last moment. ‘People will always talk. It doesn’t matter what they say if you don’t listen.’

  Although she was younger than he, and undoubtedly hadn’t been exposed to as much of the world as he, she had a quiet wisdom about her that suggested she’d had more important things to cope with than a little gossip in her time.

  ‘Most women would not feel comfortable leaving the ballroom on their own, let alone wandering about a strange house,’ Harry said, changing the focus of the conversation. He was curious as to why she had put herself in this position in the first place. Although the ton were meant to be respectable, the cream of society, some of the men still got uncontrollably drunk at functions such as this and thought it their right to take advantage of any unchaperoned woman. From a young age the future debutantes were cautioned about wandering away from crowds if they wanted to keep their virtue intact. A necessary requirement Harry was painfully aware of.

  Again that almost imperceptible shrug. Lady Fortescue might be intriguing, but she certainly wasn’t the easiest woman to make conversation with.

  ‘Sometimes a little peace is worth a considered risk.’ Moving gracefully, as if she were gliding across the floor instead of walking, Lady Fortescue crossed to the window. ‘This leads out on to the terrace,’ she said, turning her neck to look in one direction and then the other. ‘It would be an easy way back to the ballroom.’

  ‘Surely my company isn’t so intolerable you have to contemplate climbing out a window?’

  A grimace and then a reluctant smile flitted across Lady Fortescue’s face. Although the smile was barely more than an upturning of the corner of her lips, it transformed her face and Harry caught a glimpse of what her three husbands must have been so enamoured with.

  ‘I am supposed to be chaperoning my young cousin,’ she said by way of explanation, still eyeing up the window as if it were a valid option.

  ‘You’re far too young to be relegated to the role of chaperon,’ Harry said, without thinking the words through. It was a compliment, in a roundabout way, and he had the feeling Lady Fortescue was not comfortable with receiving compliments.

  ‘Three times a widow,’ Lady Fortescue said, adding so quietly Harry was sure he wasn’t meant to hear, ‘and happy to never have to dance a waltz again.’

  She’d just stepped away from the window when the faint hum of voices out in the hallway became a little louder. Both Harry and his companion stiffened, and Harry realised he was holding his breath waiting to see if the doorknob started to turn.

  ‘We can’t be found together,’ Harry whispered, standing quickly and crossing to the window. Normally he wouldn’t worry for his own reputation in this sort of situation. As a titled and wealthy gentleman he could generally withstand being found in a compromising position with a young lady, even one as notorious as Lady Fortescue. However, following his sister’s unfortunate liaison with the dishonourable Captain Mountfield last year and the ensuing scandal, the Edgerton family was not in a position to be embarrassed again. Added to that the look of pure fear in Lady Fortescue’s eyes at the thought of giving the gossips of London society something to really get their teeth into, the window escape was looking more appealing every second that passed.

  Quickly he unbolted the window, slid it up and motioned for Lady Fortescue to join him. She was at his side in an instant, nodding as he motioned for her to go first. With more grace than should have been possible in this situation Lady Fortescue gathered up her skirts, giving Harry a fleeting glimpse of a slender, stockinged leg, and allowed him to steady her as she stepped up to the windowsill.

  Behind them the voices were getting louder still and now Harry had no doubt they were heading for the study. If he could just get Lady Fortescue out of the window he would be able to distract whoever came into the room until she had managed to move out of sight.

  She stepped up as the doorknob began to turn. One foot was through the window, balancing on the sill outside as the door began to open. Then Lady Fortescue gave a quiet cry of pain, lost her footing and came careening back into the room. Harry instinctively caught her, spinning round with the impact of her body into his and ending up with her chest pressed against his, one arm looped around her waist and the other resting between her shoulder blades.

  At that very instant the door opened fully.

  ‘Merciful Lord,’ Mrs Winter, one of the worst gossips in the whole of London, exclaimed loudly.

  Quietly Lady Fortescue groaned.

  All in all there were four women standing on the other side of the study door. Each and every one looked thrilled to be at the centre of such a scandal.

  Slowly, aware his every movement was being observed and mentally recorded for later dissection and discussion, Harry ensured Lady Fortescue had her balance before removing his arms and stepping away.

  ‘Ladies,’ he said with a polite bow.

  ‘Lord Edgerton,’ Mrs Winter gushed breathlessly, ‘and Lady Fortescue.’

  Muscling a path through her companions, a well-built lady in her late forties stepped into the room. Harry closed his eyes momentarily, wondering how he’d sinned to be punished this badly.

  ‘Lord Edgerton, this really won’t do,’ Lady Prenderson, their hostess for this evening, said, her eyes burning with righteous indignation. ‘This behaviour is unacceptable—having relations with this woman in my husband’s study.’

  Harry wasn’t sure what she objected to the most: the supposed relations between him and Lady Fortescue or the fact that it had occurred in her husband’s study.

  ‘I expect this behaviour from certain people,’ Lady Prenderson said, giving Lady Fortescue a disdainful look, ‘but after the scandal your sister has caused your family I would have thought you would know better.’

  Harry had been all ready to apologise, but the mention of his sister made a red curtain descend over his normally cool head. Lady Fortescue must have sensed this change in him and calmly stepped forward.

  ‘Please excuse me, ladies, I have a duty to my cousin.’ Her voice was cool and her demeanour poised and collected. Harry supposed she had endured all manner of gossip over the last few years—she must have had practice at dealing with staying calm when faced with further notoriety. He knew she was just as bothered as he by the position they’d been discovered in—her eagerness to climb out the window to avoid exactly this situation was testament to that fact—but the face she showed the world was one of complete indifference.

  None of the ladies in the doorway moved, blocking the escape route to the more populated ballroom. With a tremendous effort Harry managed to regain control of his emotions and stepped forward, taking Lady Fortescue’s arm. There was only one thing to be done. He took a deep breath, quelled the doubts clamouring for attention in his mind and spoke.

  ‘Ladies, may I present my fiancée,’ Harry said with a confident and winning smile. ‘Lady Fortescue has just agreed to marry me.’

  Shock blossomed on the four faces gawping at them from the study door. Lady Fortescue barely reacted, the only sign she’d heard what he’d just said the subtle stiffening of the muscles Harry could feel where their arms interlinked. She was certainly diffi
cult to shock.

  ‘Surely not, Lord Edgerton,’ Mrs Winter said, a hint of disappointment in her voice. Harry remembered she had two unmarried daughters and had to suppress a smile. The work of the meddling matron was never done.

  ‘Now if you would excuse us, I wish to get my new fiancée a glass of champagne to celebrate.’

  The crowd of gossips parted silently and Harry led Lady Fortescue through them and down the hallway. Only once they were back in the ballroom did they pause, with Lady Fortescue turning to him with a raised eyebrow.

  ‘Fiancée?’ she asked.

  ‘It will save us both from the scandal.’ It wasn’t exactly true, but it would at least delay the moment of scandal until a point when they were both prepared for it.

  ‘You’ve just engaged yourself to the most notorious woman in this ballroom. I hardly think you’ve saved yourself from scandal.’

  Harry felt the heat begin to rise in his body. Surely she didn’t think this a real engagement. He’d meant for it to be a simple ruse, an engagement that would last a few weeks, perhaps a month until something else noteworthy occurred in society, and then they would quietly go their separate ways. The ton would still gossip, but it would not be the most scandalous thing to happen all year.

  ‘Being found together in the Prendersons’ study will be all over London by breakfast tomorrow morning. This way we are an unlikely engaged couple, not a disgraced earl and a widow.’

  ‘I thank you for your consideration,’ Lady Fortescue said, her grey eyes latching on to Harry’s and making him shiver with the intensity, ‘but I think it better we dispense with this pretence and ride out the scandal.’ Leaning in, she whispered in his ear, ‘Trust me, a little gossip isn’t the worst thing in the world.’

  Chapter Two

  ‘I really wouldn’t read that, my dear,’ Mr Tenby, Anna’s kindly uncle, said, a look of concern in his eyes.

  Anna’s hand stilled on top of the folded gossip sheets. She’d hoped the news from the Prendersons’ ball would not be reported for another couple of days. It was a miracle how quickly they seemed to be able to publish the latest intrigue and style faux pas.

  ‘Words cannot hurt me,’ Anna said brightly, picking up the paper and scanning the text, trying to ignore the concerned looks coming across the breakfast table from her uncle and her cousin Beatrice.

  ‘“Congratulations are due to Lady Fortescue on her engagement to Lord Edgerton at Lord and Lady Prenderson’s ball two days ago. Recently out of mourning for her third husband, Lady Fortescue will no doubt be keen to legalise her tie to one of London’s most eligible bachelors.”’

  Anna read the offending paragraph out loud, wondering how many other people were doing the same thing at breakfast tables across London.

  ‘What did happen, Anna?’ Beatrice asked.

  Ever since the Prenderson ball Anna had kept herself distant from the rest of the household and steadfastly refused any visitors. Even her sweet younger cousin had been kept in the dark.

  ‘A misunderstanding, nothing more.’

  ‘This Edgerton chap has called on you twice,’ Mr Tenby said. ‘Seems keen to see you.’

  ‘He was merely trying to save an impossible situation.’

  ‘Decent young man by all accounts.’

  ‘Uncle,’ Anna said kindly, ‘I do not care if he takes in waifs and strays off the streets and gives half his income to the poor, I will never marry again.’

  ‘He’s very handsome, in a rugged sort of way,’ Beatrice said.

  Anna supposed he had been handsome. Sparkling blue eyes contrasting with hair so dark it was almost black, and a toned and muscular physique. She could see why he was dubbed one of London’s most eligible bachelors even without the title and the income that went with it.

  ‘He could look like a wild boar for all that it matters,’ Anna said.

  ‘And he proposed to you to save you from scandal. He’s clearly a gentleman of honour,’ Beatrice said, her voice dreamy and distant.

  Remembering what it was like to be eighteen and innocent, Anna ignored this last statement entirely, biting back the retort that was on her tongue.

  ‘Anna dear, you know you will always have a home here with me,’ her uncle said, ‘no matter what happens with your settlement from Lord Fortescue. I enjoy your company and dare say will even more so when my little Beatrice has left for a life with a husband of her own.’ Mr Tenby paused, as if considering whether to say more. ‘But more than your company, I wish for your happiness. One day you may want to marry again. You’re still young, you may want children, a home of your own. Don’t rule out anything yet.’

  ‘Of course, Uncle.’ Anna smiled at the kindly man who had taken her in after her husband had died. Lord Fortescue had three children from his first marriage. Two brutish sons and a spiteful daughter who had turned Anna out of her home less than thirty minutes after her husband’s death. They’d taken everything, left her with nothing but the clothes she was wearing, and even now were contesting the settlements she was due from her late husband’s estate. Anna’s uncle had travelled halfway across the country when he’d heard of her plight, swept her up into his carriage and brought her back to his home. He’d reminded her that there was kindness in the world and that not everyone was cruel and selfish.

  Patting her on the hand, Mr Tenby rose from his seat and made his way towards the door.

  ‘Whatever your feelings for this gentleman, he deserves an audience,’ he said softly, ‘even if it is just to end this engagement between you.’

  ‘Yes, Uncle.’

  Anna knew he was right. It had been rude and cowardly to refuse to see Lord Edgerton the past two days. If he came to call on her today, she would see him briefly and clear up any misunderstanding between them.

  * * *

  Harry whistled as he strode up the stairs two at a time. The sun was shining and it was impossible to feel anything but positive on such a day. Today he would insist on an audience with Lady Fortescue and no one would stand in his way.

  The door opened before he could raise the polished doorknocker and an elderly butler opened the door.

  ‘Lady Fortescue is in the music room, Lord Edgerton. She will see you directly.’

  Perhaps this was going to be easier than he had anticipated.

  Looking around him with interest, Harry followed the butler up the sweeping staircase to the first floor. As they climbed Harry could hear an exquisitely played piece of piano music getting louder, as if the pianist was growing in confidence with every note.

  ‘Lord Edgerton,’ the butler announced as he showed Harry into a sunny room. The piano music stopped abruptly and Lady Fortescue stood to greet him, her expression as inscrutable as it had been at the Prendersons’ ball.

  ‘A pleasure to see you again, Lady Fortescue. I do hope you have not been unwell,’ Harry said pointedly, reminding the woman who stood before him he’d tried to visit twice in the last two days. He wondered if she would lie, if she would pretend to have been stricken down with a bad chest or a headache, but instead Lady Fortescue regarded him for a few seconds before speaking.

  ‘I must confess I was hoping to put all this nonsense behind us,’ she said quietly.

  Harry waited for her to step out from behind the piano and glide towards him before he took her hand and bent over it formally. He felt her flinch ever so slightly at his touch, but her expression did not change.

  ‘Please have a seat.’ She motioned to one of two upright chairs positioned a few feet apart.

  ‘The world thinks we are engaged,’ Harry said, getting straight to the point. Lady Fortescue’s cool grey eyes were disconcerting when she fixed them so intently on his.

  ‘It would seem so.’ There was no reproach in her voice, just an air of mild uninterest.

  ‘I suppose that is preferable to the alternative.’

&
nbsp; ‘Which is?’

  ‘The rumours of us being found together in a compromising position.’

  Tilting her head to one side, Lady Fortescue appeared to consider this for a moment.

  ‘You’re probably correct,’ she conceded.

  ‘Forgive me for my bluntness, but you seem wildly unconcerned about the gossip attached to our names,’ Harry said.

  The situation was feeling rather surreal. Normally if a man and a woman had been found in a compromising position it would be the woman who was eager to save her reputation. Gentlemen, especially titled ones, were forgiven all manner of indiscretions. Gently bred ladies were not. It was perhaps unfair, but it was the way society worked.

  Harry watched Lady Fortescue carefully and detected a tiny twitch in the muscles of her forehead. It could mean anything, but he wondered if it was yet another sign that Lady Fortescue was unnaturally good at hiding her emotions.

  ‘Lord Edgerton,’ she said with a sigh, ‘before you met me what had you heard?’

  Harry opened his mouth to answer and then closed it again. He’d heard plenty. The ballrooms and gentlemen’s clubs had been rife with rumours and speculation about Lady Fortescue and her three deceased husbands.

  ‘I take it from your silence the rumours were not complimentary...’ She paused, smiling to reveal a perfect set of white teeth. ‘Ever since my second husband passed away people have talked about me, not to my face, of course, but they have picked and prodded at my life as if it were nothing more than an episode for public entertainment.’

  ‘That cannot be pleasant.’

  ‘It isn’t, of course it isn’t, but I’m still here. A little gossip isn’t the worst thing in the world.’ It was the second time she’d made that statement, the second time she’d brushed off the damage unkind words could do, and Harry began to wonder what Lady Fortescue did think was the worst thing in the world.

  ‘A scandal can ruin lives,’ Harry said resolutely. ‘Even end lives,’ he added too quietly for Lady Fortescue to hear.