Beguiled. Susan Paul Spencer
know it. I come from the same sort of people, with all their ancient titles and ancient blood and ancient emotions.” He sat back comfortably in his chair. “The Walfords go back to before the days of the Romans, so far back you’d think we’d have water in our veins by now instead of blood, we’ve been stretched so thin. Some of us are half-mad,” he said with a grin. “Some of us are nearly inhuman. I happily abandoned my family when I was fourteen and never would have gone back if my brother hadn’t had the bad manners to get himself killed without leaving a son to inherit the title and estates, and if Lily hadn’t needed me. I’ve loved few souls in my life, Graydon,” Cardemore said softly, intently, “but Lily is the most precious among them. I’ve held her safe from every harm these past many years, keeping her in the country, as far from fashionable society’s vultures as possible, but now I think perhaps I’ve done her a disservice. She’s twenty-one years of age and as vulnerable as a newborn babe. Coming to London is as a dream to her. An answer to all her prayers. I’ll not allow her to be disappointed. Understand that.” His expression took on a hint of menace, as gentle and firm as his voice. “Lily will have all the things she’s dreamed of. Exactly as she’s dreamed of them. You’ll make certain of it or lose everything you hold most dear. I give my word of honor on it.”
“Why?” Graydon asked, shaking his head. “There must be dozens of better men you could have chosen.”
“Hardly,” was the casual reply as Cardemore opened a desk drawer and pulled out a single sheet of paper, which he scanned. “I’ve been informed by my sources that you’re a notable sportsman, a leader of fashion, highly admired among the nobles as a rising power in Parliament, considered the catch of the ton by the mothers of marriageable females and, according to my mistress—” Cardemore glanced up at him “—handsome enough to make young girls faint should you happen to smile at them. Not that I want you felling Lily, of course, but she’s far too level-headed for that sort of nonsense.” Leaning, he offered the paper to Graydon, who read it through with narrowed eyes. “Is it all correct?” Cardemore asked.
“Quite thorough.” Graydon passed the paper to Lord Daltry. “Right down to the name and location of my mistress.” He smoothed his fingers in a relaxed gesture over the folds of his cravat. “I’d ask how you came to know so much about my sisters, even their dates of birth, but I’m afraid I wouldn’t like the answer much.”
A chilly smile lifted the corners of Cardemore’s mouth. “No, I’m afraid you wouldn’t.”
“Dear me,” said Daltry, tossing the paper onto the desk. “Even my name’s listed as one of your frequent companions. Never knew you’d be such a dangerous fellow to associate with, Tony.”
“There’s one pertinent bit of information missing from your collection, however,” Graydon said. “I spent most of last season openly courting Miss Frances Hamilton, and it’s well-known among the members of the ton that she and I have an understanding, despite the fact that I’ve not yet made her a formal offer. I cannot possibly do what you ask without starting a great many unpleasant rumors flying, perhaps driving Miss Hamilton away even if I should be able to explain the matter to her.”
Cardemore’s expression sharpened. “You’ll tell no one of the understanding between us. Either of you.” His dark gaze fell briefly on Lord Daltry, who smiled cheerfully at him in turn. “If Lily should ever hear of it I would be most displeased. I don’t care what you do with Miss Hamilton. In my mind, she doesn’t exist as a problem. The only thing I’m concerned about is that Lily enjoy her first season in London and that she be spared any unkindness on the part of fashionable society. If she wants to attend parties, you make sure she attends them. If she wants to dance, you make sure she dances. When she leaves London to return to Cardemore Hall, I want her doing so with a smile on her face.”
“If you love your sister so dearly,” Graydon remarked, “then why don’t you squire her yourself?”
Cardemore stood, setting his hands palms down on the desktop. “That’s a foolish question, Graydon, even for you. If I took Lily about she’d be treated with respect for no other reason than simple fear, while behind her back all those sharp-tongued matrons of the ton would gleefully wreak havoc. If the most notable gentleman in London shows a keen interest in Lady Lillian Walford, however, society will welcome her with open arms.” From his great height, he gazed down at them much as a waiting panther might look with satisfaction upon its helpless prey. “Lily and Isabel will be arriving in three weeks, with my sister-in-law, Lady Margaret. Their first outing will be to Almack’s, where I have already secured vouchers for them. I advise that you make yourself known to Lily then, Graydon, for a month after that I’ll be holding her and Isabel’s comeout here at Wilborn Place and I’ll expect to see you leading Lily out for the first dance.” To Lord Daltry he added, “If you bear your friend any affection, then do what you can to aid him in his endeavors. Otherwise you’ll find yourself lending him comfort as he serves his time in debtor’s prison. It will be, I promise you, a lengthy period of time in which to prove the mettle of your friendship.”
“That can’t be the girl, surely.” Lord Daltry frowned. “I didn’t expect her to be beautiful, what with having Cardemore for a brother, but I didn’t think she’d look more like a man than a woman. Are you sure there isn’t any way for you to get out of this?”
“I’m sure,” Graydon replied grimly, clasping his hands behind his back as he contemplated the tall, dark-haired young woman standing at the other side of Almack’s. “Cardemore headed off every attempt I made to retrieve my debts. He’s evidently got his own personal army of cutthroats. My tailor was so upset when I tried to pay him personally that I thought the poor man would have a seizure. It was the same everywhere else I went. People, it seems, are rather in awe of Lord Cardemore.”
“You’re going to go through with it, then?” Daltry asked, eyeing the young lady doubtfully. “With her? Only look at those shoulders. Looks like she could take on every man in the room and come out the easy winner. Gad. She gives new meaning to the notion of country girls being healthy.”
Graydon chuckled. “She’s not that bad, Matthew. Perhaps not beautiful, certainly nothing like Miss Hamilton, but handsome enough. As long as she’s well mannered I don’t suppose I’ll mind escorting her about London.”
“Handsome,” said Daltry. “Huh. If that’s what you like in a female.”
“I rather fancy tall women, and she looks to be even taller than Miss Hamilton. And look at that smile. Stunning. See how she’s charming old Hanby there? Don’t think I’ve ever seen him laugh before. Wonder what she’s telling him?”
“Probably ‘Laugh or I’ll give you a black eye, you skinny whelp,’” Daltry suggested dryly. “God’s feet, there goes Curtis taking her a glass of punch. The chit’s got more men fluttering around her than a horse does flies. Whatever was Cardemore worrying about? Doesn’t look like she needs helping. You ought to go back to that hell house of his and tell him that his sister’s doing fine on her own. What?” He looked over as Graydon’s hand gripped his sleeve. Seeing the expression on his friend’s face, he repeated, “What?”
“There.” Graydon nodded across the room. “Sitting right behind where Cardemore’s sister is standing. See her?”
Tilting his head to see through the swirl of dancers on the floor, Daltry looked, and after the initial shock wore off, announced, “She’s mine. You’ve already got Lady Lillian to look after, as well as Miss Hamilton to keep happy.”
“She’s fantastic,” Graydon murmured, staring. “I’ve never seen hair that color, so blond it’s almost white. She looks like a painting of an angel come to life. Who do you think she is?”
“Doesn’t matter, old boy,” Daltry assured him, smoothing both hands over his elegant black coat. “She’s all mine. You go take