An Invitation to Sin Read online

  SUZANNE ENOCH

  AN INVITATION TO SIN

  For Meredith Foster,

  my best friend through fair and foul,

  and one of the few people

  who understands my obsession

  with Star Wars action figures.

  Contents

  Chapter 1

  Lord Zachary Griffin lifted a glass of claret from a…

  Chapter 2

  Caroline Witfeld pressed her pencil so hard against the sketch…

  Chapter 3

  Her sisters joined the parade of people and luggage as…

  Chapter 4

  Caroline set out four pencils with various thicknesses of lead.

  Chapter 5

  Caroline sat back in the barouche and tried to ignore…

  Chapter 6

  If she hadn’t feared how far it would push even…

  Chapter 7

  Caroline softened the line of Lord Zachary’s jaw with the…

  Chapter 8

  Caroline came downstairs in the morning to a tumult of…

  Chapter 9

  Caroline stepped back from the window. For better than an…

  Chapter 10

  Considering the fact that she could barely sleep or even…

  Chapter 11

  Caroline managed to avoid Zachary for the next two hours,…

  Chapter 12

  Aunt Tremaine stood just outside the bedchamber door as Zachary…

  Chapter 13

  Caroline paced the conservatory floor for nearly an hour before…

  Chapter 14

  At luncheon, the Witfeld girls sprang from the shrubbery like…

  Chapter 15

  Zachary felt like Troy being overwhelmed by the legions of…

  Chapter 16

  Zachary shifted his weight onto one elbow, resting his head…

  Chapter 17

  Caroline couldn’t remember a happier evening. She’d done it. She’d…

  Chapter 18

  Charlemagne dropped into the chair opposite Sebastian’s desk, flinging a…

  Chapter 19

  At four and twenty, with numerous female admirers and more…

  Chapter 20

  Zachary looked at Caroline sideways. “You actually want to know…

  Chapter 21

  Caroline found Zachary up in the conservatory, pacing. “Are you…

  Chapter 22

  “But Mr. Witfeld!”

  Chapter 23

  “You had no bloody right!”

  Chapter 24

  Two months later.

  Chapter 25

  Caroline dipped her paintbrush into a jar of alcohol. Carefully…

  About the Author

  Other Books by Suzanne Enoch

  Copyright

  About the Publisher

  Chapter 1

  Lord Zachary Griffin lifted a glass of claret from a passing footman. “For God’s sake, hurry it up,” he muttered, gazing at the pair of dancers twirling halfway across the room.

  Thirty other couples swished about the Tamberlake ballroom, but he scarcely noted them. Likewise the half dozen single young ladies edging toward him along the wall—they occupied him only insofar as they kept him on the move to stay ahead of the silk and lace-draped gaggle.

  Under normal circumstances he had no objection to waltzing with pretty young chits; he enjoyed it, in fact. However, the first order of business tonight was, well, business. He could dance later.

  Across the room, his older brothers, Sebastian, the Duke of Melbourne, and Charlemagne, had also declined to waltz. The pair of them were in deep conversation with Lord Harvey and were no doubt finalizing negotiations to buy out the viscount’s shares in their shipping business. He wished them well, but just the thought of all the damned numbers and percentages flying back and forth over there made his head ache.

  The waltz finally swirled to an end. Most of the dancers headed back to their companions or toward the refreshment table. The pair Zachary was after separated in front of the chocolate cremes. With a last glance at his brothers, he moved in.

  “Glad to see you still in London, Major,” he said, putting a hand on the gentleman’s red-clad shoulder.

  John Tracey faced him. “Zachary,” he returned with a smile, offering his hand.

  Zachary shook it. “You look well.”

  “Is there a reason I shouldn’t? Other than your sister deciding she didn’t want to marry me, that is.”

  “None of us expected that,” Zachary conceded, his own smile tightening. Damn Nell. He didn’t need any complications tonight. “Except perhaps for Melbourne, of course. He tends to know everything.”

  “He might have informed me then, that Lady Eleanor meant to marry the Marquis of Deverill before he asked if I wished to join the family.”

  Zachary shrugged, not certain how genuinely perturbed Major Lord John Tracey was by recent events. As much of a handful as his sister Nell had turned out to be, he wouldn’t have wanted to be leg-shackled to her. “She eloped with Deverill. We even caught up to them once, and they still got away from us. After that, there wasn’t much we could do. Valentine and Eleanor together are rather unstoppable.”

  “So I gathered. What can I do for you, then? It can’t be marriage again. You don’t have any other female siblings to send in my direction, and Melbourne’s daughter is what, eight?”

  “Peep is six,” Zachary returned. “Actually, I have a favor to ask of you.”

  “Ask away.”

  With a deep breath Zachary stepped off the cliff. “I intend to join a regiment and head for the Peninsula with Wellington.”

  The major laughed. “Oh, that’s…” He trailed off. “You’re serious.”

  “Of course I’m serious.” Damn it all, nobody believed him. Hence this secret conversation out of the Duke of Melbourne’s hearing. The laughter and teasing from his family members was becoming bloody tiresome.

  “My apologies, then,” Tracey said. “But Zachary, you do realize that once you join the army you can’t simply change your mind. Not without some dire consequences.”

  “I’m aware of that,” he returned, ignoring the insult to his resolve. “I’m not asking whether you think I should join the army. I’m asking which regiment would give me the best opportunity to see action. I don’t intend to end up in charge of lugging whiskey barrels somewhere twenty miles behind the front lines.”

  “You want my regiment, then. The Forty-fifth Foot,” the major answered promptly. “And if you’re serious, I’d be happy to put in a word with Major General Picton. Not that you need much of a recommendation, with your family’s name and reputation.”

  “I would appreciate if you would speak with the general,” Zachary said, otherwise ignoring the familiar compliment to his family. As far as he was concerned, he had the important qualities—skill with a weapon and the desire to excel. But if money qualified someone to be a competent soldier, well, he had that, too. “If you could arrange an introduction, I would be in your debt.”

  “If you promise never to mention my name and marriage in the same sentence again, I would consider us even,” Tracey said, smiling again.

  Out of the corner of his eye Zachary noticed the meeting breaking up across the room. He shook Tracey’s hand again. “That’s a promise. And my thanks.”

  “I’ll send word when I can arrange a meeting. The general and I are both returning to Spain in another fortnight, so it’ll be soon.”

  “I’ll be waiting.”

  As the two of them parted, Zachary caught Melbourne gazing at him. Favoring the duke with a lifted eyebrow, Zachary went to find a dance partner. Whether his family in general, and his oldest brother in particular, had decided to t
ake him seriously or not, he was going to decide his own future. And tonight he’d taken a large step in that direction—which meant that now he could find a chit and enjoy himself.

  The next morning Zachary sat at the breakfast table to read the missive Major Tracey had sent over. It seemed that Major General Thomas Picton would be very interested in adding a Griffin to his staff, and that both men would be dining at White’s for luncheon. Folding the note and sliding it into his pocket, he turned his attention to the slightly wrinkled copy of The London Times that waited for him. From its condition, he surmised that either Shay or Melbourne had had a tea mishap earlier. He would wager it had been Charlemagne.

  According to the latest printed reports, Eleanor and Valentine were enjoying their honeymoon in Venice. Nell’s latest letter said the same thing, but he always found it interesting to hear about the Griffin clan’s exploits from an outside perspective.

  “Good morning, Uncle Zachary,” six-year-old Penelope said as she pranced into the breakfast room.

  “Hello, Peep.” He leaned sideways to plant a kiss on her cheek. “Nell and Valentine went for a gondola ride last week.”

  With the butler’s assistance Peep selected her breakfast from the sideboard and plunked herself down at the table beside him. “I’m going to go to Venice. You may come with me if you want to.”

  “I’m meeting someone for luncheon at White’s today,” he countered, hiding a grin, “but I’m available tomorrow.”

  “Not now,” she protested, rolling her pretty gray eyes at him. “When I grow up.”

  “Oh. I’ll be available then, of course.”

  “Good.” She bit into a peach. “Because I think Papa and Uncle Shay might be too strict.”

  “And I won’t be?”

  “Uncle Zachary, you let me taste your glass of scotch.”

  Wonderful. “We aren’t ever going to mention that again, remember?”

  “I forgot.” She smiled, carefree and fearless as only six-year-olds could be. “Papa’s taking me riding this morning on Buttercup. You may join us, if you’d like.”

  Before he could decline, Peep’s father strolled into the room. Sebastian, the Duke of Melbourne, looked like precisely what he was—at age thirty-four one of the most powerful, influential men in England, and the head of a famously distinguished family. What he didn’t look like was a man dressed for riding.

  “I was beginning to wonder whether either of you was going to appear at all today,” Melbourne drawled, moving around the table to kiss his daughter.

  “Late night,” Zachary said, declining to mention in whose company it had ended. The waltz was only one of Lady Amelia Bradley’s talents.

  “I had to dress Mrs. Hooligan.” Peep looked up at her father. “She wants to go riding, too.”

  The duke tugged one of her dark, curling ringlets. “My apologies, Peep, but I’ve been called to Carlton House.”

  Penelope bounced in her seat. “Are you going to see Prinny?”

  “I imagine so.” Melbourne straightened. “Perhaps Uncle Zachary will take you and your doll out riding.”

  Zachary stifled a scowl. “What about Uncle Shay?”

  The duke’s gaze slid over to him. “Shay would suffice, I’m sure,” he continued in the same easy tone. “Did you have something else planned?”

  “He’s going to luncheon at White’s,” Peep supplied, starting on her honey and toast.

  “Really.” Melbourne nodded, turning for the hall door. “That reminds me. Do you have a moment, Zachary?”

  Zachary nodded and rose, reminding himself that while Eleanor swore their eldest brother could read minds, it had never been proven. “Leave my strawberries be, Peep,” he warned his niece, hearing her responding giggle as he left the breakfast room.

  Melbourne led the way into his office. Hm. An office chat was never a good thing. Zachary headed for the window; he wasn’t going to sit in one of the “victim chairs” as he and his siblings called them, whatever the duke had in mind.

  The door clicked shut behind him. “I have a task for you,” Melbourne said.

  “I’ll take Peep riding tomorrow,” Zachary countered. “As I told her, I have a few obligations today.”

  The duke took a seat behind his massive mahogany desk. Zachary kept his gaze out the window at the Griffin House garden, reminding himself that however much power Melbourne had over the rest of the world, he was still just an older brother.

  “I don’t care about your luncheon,” his brother returned dismissively. “Shay can escort Peep. I wanted to discuss a family matter.”

  That didn’t sound too ominous. Nobody had strayed from the well-delineated Griffin boundaries lately—not since Nell and Valentine had made their much-reported run to Scotland. And Melbourne had somehow managed to turn even that into a preapproved romantic escapade by the time the newspapers got hold of it. Zachary turned around, leaning a haunch against the deep windowsill. “Discuss away, then.”

  “Aunt Tremaine has asked me to provide an escort for her.”

  “She wants to go to the races at Derby again, doesn’t she?” Zachary cracked a grin. “The last time she attended, th—”

  “Her gout is acting up,” Melbourne cut in. “She wants to take the waters at Bath, probably for the remainder of the Season. I told her that you would be happy to accompany her.”

  Zachary took a moment to absorb that, though his mouth had already formed an answer. “No.”

  “I beg your—”

  “Send Charlemagne. I have plans.”

  “I need Shay in Brighton to finalize the purchase of another half dozen cargo ships. And you never have plans.”

  “I do now.”

  Melbourne sat back in his chair. “Care to enlighten me about them?”

  “I did enlighten you,” Zachary retorted, trying to keep his voice level. He didn’t need to fight about it; he’d already made his decision. “You just chose not to take me seriously.”

  For a long moment the room remained so quiet that Zachary could hear Peep chatting with the butler down the hall. The duke didn’t move, but Zachary knew Sebastian was running past conversations through his mind, calculating responses, deciding how to enter the discussion at an angle that would give him the greatest advantage. There was a reason Zachary never played chess with Melbourne; he never won. Ever. But this wasn’t chess. This was his future. And as long as he remained resolved, he couldn’t lose.

  “Tell me then,” the duke finally said, “why you have the sudden urge to join the army.”

  So he had been paying attention. “It’s not sudden. I’ve been thinking about it for some time. I tried to discuss it with you a month ago, and you weren’t interested.”

  “I’m interested now.”

  “I thought you had a meeting at Carlton House.”

  “Zachary, I don’t want you to join the army.”

  Resisting the urge to shoot to his feet, Zachary settled deeper into the window. “What do you want me to do then? Chaperone Nell at parties? Wait, she’s married now. I’m not needed for that any longer. Which leaves me with escorting Peep to her tea parties, I suppose, and Aunt Tremaine on made-up journeys.”

  “It’s not made up. And there are always—”

  “Business concerns? That’s you and Shay. Buying and selling things for no discernable reason makes me want to lock myself up in Bedlam, anyway.”

  “I’m certain there’s something you’d enj—”

  “You enjoy doing that,” Zachary interrupted again, willing his oldest brother to understand his frustration. “You and Shay. I don’t. I want something else. I want some damned responsibility, Sebastian. And if some excitement and some glory come with it, so much the better.”

  The butler scratched at the door. “Your Grace?”

  “What is it, Stanton?” Melbourne called, irritation edging his voice.

  “The coach is ready, Your Grace.”

  “I’ll be there in a moment.”

  Zachary straighten
ed, pushing away from the window. “I believe we’ll have to finish this conversation later, then,” he said, taking Melbourne’s usual parting line. And after luncheon with Major General Picton, he’d have considerably more ammunition—and perhaps even a commission.

  “We’ll finish it now.”

  “But you—”

  “No, now it’s my turn,” Melbourne countered sharply. “What about when you were going to take your orders?”

  Zachary frowned. “I never really wanted to join the priesthood. That—”

  “That’s why that scheme only lasted a week. And then there was training racehorses.”

  “That is not fair, S—”

  “You sold off your interest in that after two months,” his brother cut in again. “What about taking up land management?”

  Straightening, Zachary aimed a finger at his brother. “That was your fault. Bromley Hall is the least significant property you own. It was dull as damned door knockers there, Seb.”

  “The irrigation channel was a good idea—or it would have been, if you’d finished it.”

  “So I’m useless. Is that what you’re saying?”

  “I’m saying you have no patience for anything. If it immediately satisfies your requirements, then you’re done with it. If it’s something that takes work, you lose interest. So if you want responsibility, get a dog. If you’re bored, take up painting. You don’t need to parade about the Peninsula in a bright red uniform so some bloody Frenchman can blow a hole in you.”

  “Thank you very much for your faith in my stupidity and utter incompetence.”

  “It’s not stupidity by any means, but you know how you are,” Melbourne countered. “And a lack of patience wouldn’t serve you in the army, either. You aren’t going to buy a commission, Zachary. I won’t permit it, and you know I can prevent it.”