Before the Scandal Read online

  Phineas stopped. “At the moment, Mr. Gordon, you are not a member of my military staff. You’re my…valet.”

  “Well, don’t that sound elegant,” the Scot chortled.

  “Valets eat with the household staff in the kitchen. And they don’t make trouble, drink, or gossip.”

  “Bloody ’ell! Who would ever want t’be a valet, then?”

  “You, apparently, since you followed me here. Take the back stairs down to the kitchen. No trouble, Sergeant.” He hesitated. “Find yourself some civilian clothes, as well. Anything you might hear about Quence Park in general, I would appreciate knowing.”

  Thaddeus Gordon straightened, offering a crisp, precise salute. “Ye have my word, Colonel.”

  Phineas could only hope the sergeant meant it. His own presence was bad enough. He didn’t know how William would react to a rather unorthodox part of his younger brother’s life making an unasked-for appearance. Frankly, Phin didn’t want to find out. “I’ll hold you to it.”

  The morning still lacked a few minutes of eight o’clock when he started down the main staircase. From the sounds around him the house was well awake, though he hadn’t seen or heard either of his siblings yet. A wheeled chair sat empty at the foot of the stairs, and he paused.

  His brother, who’d loved to go fishing and ride horses, was confined to that straight-backed cloth and wood and wicker trap—because of him. And that complicated everything. Delving into his brother’s affairs would be difficult enough, but to do so when he owed a debt he could never repay—he needed to be two people. The one with whom William could comfortably be at odds, and the one who could uncover Beth’s mystery without ruffling his brother’s pride or walking all over his responsibilities.

  A heavy tread sounded on the stairs above him. Startled, he looked up. Andrews descended, William cradled in his arms. The viscount had one arm around his valet’s shoulders, the other holding up the loose blanket tucked around his legs. Being carried like that, William looked broken and frail, much older than the thirty-four years he had to his name.

  “I—”

  “Not planning to stay long, then?” William interrupted, as Andrews carefully settled him into his chair.

  Phineas shook himself. He couldn’t ask for forgiveness. It had to be offered. “Beg pardon?”

  “You’re still in your uniform.”

  “Ah. Nothing else I own was quite…shipshape this morning,” he said, brushing at his sleeve.

  “Andrews tells me you have a valet after all.”

  Andrews apparently knew everything that went on in the house. Phin would keep that in mind. “Yes,” he said aloud. “Gordon. My sergeant-at-arms. He…followed me here.”

  “Are all your soldiers so well disciplined?”

  Damnation. “Gordon’s hardheaded, and he worries about me. If you don’t want him here, I’ll knock him over the skull and ship him back to Spain.”

  William looked at him for a moment, his expression unreadable. “If you’re here as a gentleman, you should have someone attending to you.” As he finished speaking and on some unseen signal, Andrews turned the chair and rolled the viscount into the breakfast room.

  Phineas fell in behind them. “I thought I might go into Lewes today, if you’ll lend me some transportation.”

  “Bored with Quence already, are you?”

  Swearing again under his breath, Phineas went to the sideboard and looked over the selection of breakfast items. The spread seemed less lavish than he remembered, but after ten years of stale bread and meats of uncertain origin, he wasn’t about to complain.

  “Yesterday when I arrived I expected to see you bedridden,” he said slowly, choosing his words as carefully as he could. He’d become used to taking action, to making a quick assessment and reacting. Feeling his way without knowing any of the pertinent information necessary for even a conversation—he wasn’t accustomed to it, and he didn’t like it. But he would tolerate it. “Today I’m being civil and cordial and as unobtrusive as possible.”

  “I’ll have Warner find a mount for you,” Lord Quence said in the same even tone he’d used before.

  “Thank you.”

  “Good morning, my two handsome brothers.” Elizabeth swept into the room, her smile bright enough to challenge the sun. She kissed William on the cheek, then danced forward to do the same to Phineas.

  “Good morning.” He returned the kiss, noting that her smile was a touch too bright, and her voice a shade too determined. If she wanted a morning of harmony, then he would attempt to do his part. “You look very fetching, if I may say so.”

  She fluffed a rose-colored sleeve. “Yes, you may. I’m going out to the garden to pick some flowers, and then Richard is going to be by to take me driving.”

  Phineas set down his plate and took a seat at William’s left elbow. “Mm-hm. Are we delighted that Richard is calling, or should I be armed?”

  Beth chuckled. “I am delighted. William hasn’t yet threatened anyone, and you may do as you please.” She sent him a mock scowl. “Within reason, of course. No shooting or stabbing him.”

  “You have my word, subject to future observation.”

  “Very well.”

  “Phin is going in to Lewes this morning,” William commented.

  Beth frowned, but wiped the expression away so quickly that Phineas wasn’t certain if he’d imagined it. “Are you?”

  “Unless you have another suggestion for me.” One he would welcome, and wasn’t likely to receive. She’d apparently given her own word, and to William.

  “No, of course not. You’re home. You should become familiar again with your surroundings.”

  “Any particular surroundings?”

  Beth forced another chuckle. “Of course not. For heaven’s sake.”

  Very well. He wouldn’t force her into anything, and certainly not in William’s presence. “Is there any good gossip to be had, then?”

  Her expression relaxed again. “Oh, I know cartloads of gossip.” She sat forward. “They say, for instance, that Lord Roesglen has been taking to the roads at night to retrieve and return his new mistress to her home. No one’s yet discovered who she might be.”

  Phineas chuckled. “For a moment I thought you were going to say that Roesglen was roving the night as a highwayman. I wouldn’t have minded seeing that, considering that the last time I set eyes on him he weighed over twenty stone.”

  “I don’t think he can even ride a horse any longer.” With a laugh, Beth dumped three lumps of sugar into her tea. “That would definitely be a sight. Do you remember the stories Papa used to tell us about The Gentleman?” She sighed. “We haven’t had a decent highwayman in thirty years.”

  “And thank God for that,” William put in. “We don’t need any more trouble.”

  “More trouble?” Phineas pounced on the word. Perhaps he couldn’t interrogate Beth, but if William volunteered anything, that would certainly save him a great deal of effort.

  A muscle in the viscount’s cheek jumped. “Go for your ride, Phin. Lewes has become a great deal more sophisticated. I’m certain you’ll find enough opera singers and actresses to satisfy even you.”

  His face heating, Phineas pushed to his feet. So this was the game they would be playing. “I didn’t come here to find someone to share my bed,” he grunted.

  “The inns and taverns open early as well, then. Andrews?”

  “Yes, my lord.”

  The wheeled chair backed away from the table and then rolled out of the room. Phineas sat down again, trying to rein in his growing frustration.

  “Phin, he—”

  He shook his head at his sister. “Don’t make excuses for either of us,” he said. “Are you going to tell me why you sent me that letter, or am I on my own?”

  To his surprise, her hazel eyes filled with tears. Beth shook her head. “All I can do,” she whispered, “is ask you not to let him drive you away.”

  “Beth?” William’s voice echoed from somewhere down the
hallway. “Magpie, you have some mail.”

  “I’ll be right there,” she called back, rising. As she crossed behind Phineas she touched his shoulder. “Please stay,” she continued almost soundlessly.

  That settled that. The devil himself couldn’t drag him out of East Sussex now. The next step was to gauge the lay of the land—and then prepare for battle, whether he knew what he was about to come up against or not.

  “Alyse, carry my reticule.”

  Alyse closed the small distance to her aunt and took the older woman’s bag from her drooping fingers. It felt nearly empty; undoubtedly Aunt Ernesta was more interested in having someone tote her things than in relieving herself of a burden.

  She shook the reticule a little. A few coins, but she would wait to see whether she could lighten it by a shilling or two. Heaven knew she’d learned to be patient, at about the same time she’d realized that she felt perfectly content to slowly gather funds that, if her cousin had had any heart at all, would have been hers to begin with. Her father had tried to provide for her, but he’d been forced to leave it to his heir’s discretion. And Richard had declined to abide by the former viscount’s wishes.

  “And stay close by,” Ernesta continued. “You know I detest when you wander off.”

  “Yes, Aunt.”

  They waited for a milk cart to pass by and then crossed the street to Daisy Duvall’s Dress Shop. The shop was practically a decade behind the current fashion, and seemed much more popular with the grand dames of Lewes than with the younger set. Alyse had never purchased a stitch there, had never even crossed the threshold until a year ago. Not that she had any ready money to spend at the establishment, but she meant never to do so regardless.

  They spent nearly an hour inside, Mrs. Duvall and her shopgirls hovering and fluttering around Aunt Ernesta and Lady Hestley once the baroness joined them. Alyse sat to one side, pasted an interested look on her face, and let her mind wander.

  Her mind wandered a great deal these days, since her shoes were unable to do so. Left to her own amusements she would, for example, have begun the day with a visit to the sweet shop. She loved hard candy, and Mr. Styles had always used to keep some aside on Tuesdays, the day she and her friends usually ventured into Lewes for shopping and luncheon. Aunt Ernesta disliked candy, though she would go so far as to dance for biscuits. The closest Alyse had come to any sweets lately was the strawberries she’d hidden from Richard.

  “Alyse!”

  She blinked. “Yes, Aunt?”

  “I said, please go to the bakery and fetch me a half dozen biscuits. And you would do well to pay better attention. For heaven’s sake.”

  The viscount’s mother handed her a shilling. Alyse stood and walked outside, ignoring the muttering and giggling going on in the shop behind her as she left. Her aunt didn’t need to remind her that her life had irrevocably altered; all she had to do was open her eyes in the morning to know that. How unfortunate that Aunt Ernesta wouldn’t be receiving any change for the biscuits. She hadn’t in nearly a year.

  “Good morning, Miss Donnelly.”

  She looked up as a gray-muzzled chestnut mare crossed in front of her and stopped. Her heart skittered as she recognized the low drawl of the rider. “Colonel. Good morning.”

  He dismounted smoothly, taking the reins in one hand and reaching for her fingers with the other. Alyse studied him as he bowed over her knuckles. The tall, thin boy had become a lean, hard, and well-muscled man. And so, so handsome, with that dark, wild hair and half-smiling, sensuous mouth, and that blue and scarlet uniform. Hazel eyes lifted to gaze at her face as he straightened. He seemed pleased to see her, and he wasn’t laughing.

  She took a quick breath as she withdrew her fingers from his. “What brings you into town this morning?”

  “What if I said it was you?”

  Alyse felt her cheeks warm. “I would say, Phin Bromley, that ten years haven’t erased my intelligence. You didn’t know I would be here.”

  “Witty and beautiful,” he drawled, clearly undaunted. “I nearly embraced you last night, Alyse. To find you here…” He cleared his throat. “It’s good to see you again.”

  Her heart shivered. “And you,” she returned, seeking the wit on which he’d just complimented her. “What brings you to Lewes, again?”

  “Back on the trail, are we? Then the wish for fresh air brings me here,” he replied. Alert eyes scanned the street around them. “I swear this town has grown again by half.”

  “I think it has,” she agreed, more at ease now that she was no longer the subject of the conversation. “That’s Warner’s mare you’re riding, isn’t it?”

  His grin deepened. “Yes. Daffodil. I would have arrived in town earlier, but I’m afraid sending her into a trot would cause her to drop dead. Apparently Warner travels everywhere very slowly.”

  Alyse smiled back at him. She couldn’t help herself. “That uniform suits you.”

  “It is a universally acknowledged fact,” he drawled, his gaze lowering to her mouth, “that given the choice of two otherwise equal gentlemen, a woman will choose to flirt with the man in uniform.”

  There was something disconcerting about the attention he paid her. With a laugh she shook her head at him. “You’ve made a scientific study of this, I assume?”

  Miss Jane Austen has. I am a simple soldier, Miss Donnelly.”

  “You’ve never been a ‘simple’ anything, Phin. Or rather, Colonel Bromley.”

  “Phin, please,” he returned. “You’ve put mud down my back, after all.”

  She laughed. “Ah, yes, but I was nine years old at the time. And you were, what, eleven?”

  “Good God. Yes, I believe so.” He glanced past her at the busy shops along the street. “Are you here with friends?”

  He truly didn’t know. For a moment she wished she could keep it that way. “No. I’m with my aunt. She’s sent me to the bakery after biscuits.”

  Swiftly he held out an arm to her. “Allow me to accompany you, then.”

  “That’s not necessary.”

  “Which makes me amazingly gallant, I think.” He shook his fingers in her direction, and with another smile she hoped wasn’t too wistful, Alyse wrapped her hand around his arm. It had been nearly five years since anyone had troubled themselves to be gallant on her behalf.

  “If I may be so bold,” she ventured as they strolled along the street, Daffodil in tow, “your family seemed surprised to see you.”

  “A miscommunication,” he said promptly. “I thought I was expected.”

  “Is it true, what Beth said, that you’ve received five field promotions? You must be quite heroic in addition to being gallant.”

  He chuckled. “Thus far I’ve excelled at not being killed.” Abruptly he sobered. “Again, I’m sorry about your parents. No one informed me, or I would have written.”

  Would you have? “Thank you. They both caught that awful fever going about five years ago, and never recovered. I am glad they went together, though. For their sakes.”

  “Your cousin inherited the title, then?”

  She nodded. Richard had inherited much more than the title of Viscount Donnelly, but she wasn’t going to regale Phin with her tale of woe. Certainly not when she hadn’t seen him for ten years.

  “It’s good that you didn’t have to leave Donnelly House.”

  He really did know nothing. Torn between wanting to pour out her troubles and laughing, Alyse released his arm. “Thank you for your escort, Phin,” she said aloud, trying to keep her voice steady, “but my aunt hates to be kept waiting.” With a half smile she continued down the street.

  After a half dozen steps his hand came down on her shoulder, bringing her to a halt. “Alyse,” he said again, his voice lower and more intimate, “might I ask you a question? Just between us. It can go no further.”

  Alyse frowned. Evidently she wasn’t the only one with troubles. The realization surprised her a little. “What is your question?”

  His shoulde
rs rose and fell as he took a breath. “Do you know of anything that my brother might find…troubling?”

  “‘Troubling’?” she repeated. “Do you mean something like the Quence east pasture flooding? That happened a fortnight ago. Richard—my cousin—has been helping to put in a new irrigation dam on the creek, since William can’t oversee it himself.”

  “Yes, something like that,” he murmured. “Thank you. If you can think of anything else, please inform me. In fact, may I take you driving tomorrow?”

  That was the second time he’d suggested such an outing. Her heart hammered, but she attempted to ignore it. He only wanted information, and thought she might be able to supply it. “I’ll ask my aunt.”

  He cocked his scarred eyebrow, attractive and dangerous. “Though I’m not looking to be slapped, are you not five-and-twenty? And I can’t remember you ever asking permission to do anything, regardless of your age.”

  She shrugged free of his grip. “As I’m certain you’re aware, things change. And not just for you.”

  Keeping her chin up and her shoulders square, she walked into the bakery. Phin might not know what the past four and a half years of her life had been like, but she wasn’t about to forget. And his abrupt reappearance reminded her of other things she hadn’t forgotten.

  Phin Bromley had always been equal parts trouble and excitement. The last thing she needed was either of those. No matter how handsome the face bringing it, or how fond the memories she had of him.

  Chapter 5

  Phineas watched as Alyse Donnelly disappeared into the bakery. Clearly he’d said the wrong thing, but what? Had someone broken her heart, turned her into one of those frightening, man-hating females? That made sense considering her spinsterhood, but it also unsettled him a little.

  When he’d left, she’d been a fresh spring bloom just beginning to blossom. He’d given up any claim to her almost before he’d realized she could be more to him than a dear friend. Seeing her now—she was his Alyse and at the same time someone else completely. And the thought that some man might have hurt her…angered him.