Scandal of The Season. Christie Kelley
from the refreshment table. Seeing the eggnog in a large crystal bowl, his stomach roiled. He needed no reminders of the upcoming season. “Eggnog, already?”
Blackburn chuckled. “It was my wife’s idea. She had Lady Selby’s cook make some to get us thinking about Christmas. Personally, I think it was Jennette’s way of reminding me I had better find her something nice for Christmas.”
Blackburn had done exactly what Anthony’s mother had recommended and it worked out perfectly for him. Blackburn not only had his reputation on the mend but a loving wife, too.
Anthony speared a piece of ham and dropped it on his plate. Reaching for another piece, he stopped when he felt a slight nudge near his side.
“Oh, excuse me.”
Anthony smiled down at the petite woman. She pushed her spectacles up her nose and glanced at him. Something about her seemed slightly familiar, but he could not place her. With her high-neck gray dress, tight chignon and spectacles, he assumed she must be one of Lady Selby’s bluestocking friends.
“Have we met?”
“I do not believe so.” She tried to step back but Lady Blackburn was directly behind her.
“Somerton,” Lady Blackburn said with a nod. “I must apologize. I bumped into Victoria who must have nudged you.” She took a step back allowing her friend a small bit of space. “This is a dear friend of mine, Miss Seaton. She runs—”
“The home for orphans on Maddox,” Anthony finished for her. That was why she looked familiar. He must have seen her coming in or out of the house next to Lady Whitely’s.
Lady Blackburn smiled. “I might have known you would be aware of her.”
“Only her work.” Anthony glanced over at Miss Seaton who looked as if she would like the floor to swallow her. She continued to stare at the toes of her shoes barely visible from the bottom of her muslin skirts. The poor woman looked so completely out of place here. He wondered how the daughter of a vicar had become such good friends with these highborn ladies.
“Victoria, this is Viscount Somerton,” Lady Blackburn said with a smile.
“It is a pleasure to meet you, Miss Seaton.”
“Thank you, my lord,” she replied meekly with a quick curtsy. “Jennette, I must take my leave now.”
“Of course,” Lady Blackburn replied. “Come say your farewells to Avis and Elizabeth.”
Anthony watched as the ladies walked toward Lady Selby and Lady Kendal. What was it about Miss Seaton that made him unable to look away? He shook his head. Lust. Though there was no real reason for that either. He’d taken advantage of his time in France to avail himself of too many women.
Watching Miss Seaton made no sense. She was an innocent, barely able to maintain eye contact with him. And that was the last thing he needed or wanted in a woman. He wanted willing and experienced without the artifice of a prostitute. Miss Seaton was none of those things.
Chapter Three
Victoria relaxed against the comfort of her bed and breathed in deeply. Even now, an hour later, her hands still trembled. How could she have done that? In front of her friends!
Even worse, at her friend’s home and to a viscount!
A very handsome viscount.
There was something about Lord Somerton. His lips, she thought with a smile. They were the most perfect lips she had ever seen on a man. She grimaced. There had been one other man with lips so perfect. Victoria shook her head. That man had not been a viscount.
He’d only been a drunken young buck with sandy brown hair and green eyes. Viscount Somerton’s eyes were hazel. Which, her mind countered, could sometimes be considered a shade of green. It could not be him. He would have said something, or given her some indication that he knew of her. Unless he had been so foxed that night, he didn’t remember her.
No, it was definitely not him, she decided.
Slowly, she reached into her skirt pocket and withdrew today’s catch. The rubies sparkled in the dim candlelight. Staring at the pendant, fear turned to frustration. The intricate gold design formed a crest over the largest ruby in the center.
“Dammit!”
She threw the necklace on the bed. What was she to do now? That pendant was too unique to take to a pawnshop. The broker might recognize the crest and turn her into the constable. How could she have been so stupid?
A small knock on her door sounded and then an older woman entered without waiting for a reply. “Did you get anythin’ good?”
Maggie sat down on the bed and stared at the rubies spreading across the coverlet like spilled blood.
“Too good,” Victoria replied.
“How did you get somethin’ like that?” Maggie’s voice raised an octave.
Victoria covered her face with her hands. “I had no luck on Bond Street this afternoon. So I picked a man’s pocket at the christening party. I thought I might find some spare coins. I never thought I would find that. I was so nervous I just dropped it into my pocket. Jennette bumped into me, and I’m quite certain he felt me reaching in his pocket.”
“What are you goin’ to do?”
Slowly, she removed her hands from her face and shook her head. “I have no idea. Look at the crest. I can’t pawn this.”
Maggie stared at the pendant. “I have a brother who might give you some money for it.”
“I cannot take the risk.” Victoria picked up the necklace and put it around her neck. She grabbed her hand mirror and gasped at her reflection. “Could you imagine wearing something so fine?”
“Not me. Maybe you with those fine manners.”
Fine manners, she scoffed. If Maggie knew the truth, she wouldn’t be so impressed. Anyone can learn manners. Victoria removed the necklace and stared at it once again. Suddenly, the door to her room hurtled open and a little girl raced inside.
“Miss Torie,” she screamed and threw her small body into Victoria’s arms. “I had a bad dream.”
Victoria wrapped the little girl into a tight embrace. “Shh, Bronwyn. Everything is all right now.”
“It’s not,” she sobbed. “The man was after me again. He wanted to take me away from here.”
“That’s not going to happen,” Victoria whispered. Of all the children in her care, Bronwyn was special. She had been her first. Without Bronwyn, there was no telling how different her life would be now. The little girl had saved her from the inevitable course her life had been heading toward—prostitution.
Victoria smoothed the girl’s curly black hair and whispered soothing words to her. Feeling her rhythmic breathing, Victoria knew the girl had fallen back to sleep.
“That’s the second time this week,” Victoria whispered to Maggie. “It’s not like her.”
“And it’s always the same dream about a man tryin’ to take her away from here.”
“Do you think I should be worried?” Victoria asked.
“It’s just a phase. I’ll take her back,” Maggie whispered.
Victoria released her embrace and let Maggie lift Bronwyn from her arms. She stared down at the necklace again and knew what she would do with it. Little Bronwyn might only be nine, but someday, she would wear fine things like silk gowns and ruby necklaces. And if not, maybe by then she could pawn it for the girl.
Standing up, Victoria moved to her linen press and the box with Bronwyn’s name on it. She placed the pendant in the box. When Bronwyn was older and the necklace forgotten about, then Victoria could give it to the child.
Now