Lady Be Good: Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 5 Read online

  “You mustn’t tell anyone, Wesley.” She slid him a sideways warning glance. “I swear. I’ll positively strangle you if you do.”

  This only made him laugh harder. At a scathing glance from her, however, he made a motion as though he was locking his lips shut before offering her his arm to lean on.

  Ten minutes later, they arrived at the horse cart just at the same time two of Ravensdale’s most loyal retainers finished loading their purchases onto the bed.

  “Miss Waring!” Mrs. Winston took one look at Rose and seemed to comprehend her precarious situation far more quickly than Wesley had. “And you’re injured, poor dear. Mr. Winston,” she ordered her husband. “Come assist poor Miss Waring onto the back here so she doesn’t have to climb on with that poor leg. Oh, you poor, poor dear.” She fussed over Rose, making Rose feel even more guilty for her very… existence.

  Only after Mrs. Winston had made sure Rose was comfortable did the cart pull out of the town on its way toward Raven’s Park. Not in a thousand years would she have imagined such a turn of events.

  As they made the turn at the gates to Rome’s father’s estate, Rose could only appreciate the irony. There would be no dissembling her way out of this situation. She was going to have to tell Josephine everything!

  “Rose?” Josephine’s eyes met Rose’s questioningly as she stood in the doorway of the countess’ favorite drawing room, leaning heavily upon Wesley. “What are you—?” And then her gaze shifted to her grandson.

  “Wesley and I were lucky enough to meet up in Bath.” Rose bit her lip and glanced in Wesley’s direction. He’d dropped his gaze to the floor.

  Josephine nodded with a tight smile. “I hadn’t realized you were going to Bath today, Wesley.” She seemed to realize there was more there than was being said.

  “Miss Waring is injured, Grandmother.” Wesley assisted Rose to one of the sofas and helped her lower herself to sit.

  “I am fine. Wesley, thank you.” Rose had already promised him that she would speak with Lady Ravensdale on his behalf. Unable to walk on her own, she obviously was not going anywhere today. Perhaps she could rest for one night. Tomorrow she would leave for her parents’ home. Already she risked seeing Rome by coming here.

  Rome’s son excused himself with a quick bow but appeared relieved.

  “What has happened Rose? Why are you not in London?” Josephine did not hide her confusion.

  Ah, now tears would come. Rose blinked them away. “The Baroness Riverton.” She exhaled on the lady’s name. “At the Willoughby Ball.” A few of the tears escaped to slide down her cheek as she remembered the moment the world had shattered around her. The humiliation of being exposed, and judged, the embarrassment of falling to her knees. “I could not remain to face them again. And dear Lady Asherton. I’ve caused her so much trouble. I was not coming to Raven’s Park this morning. I was returning to my parents. But Wesley—”

  “Was running away as well. Just as you were?”

  Rose shook her head. “He is overwhelmed.”

  “And you?”

  “I decided it would be best for Margaret and Rome… for Lord Darlington, for me to... remove myself.”

  “Just as Wesley decided it would be best for everyone, for all of us, if he left, thusly minimizing my son’s embarrassment?”

  “Yes. Oh, no! It’s not the same, Josephine, really it is not!”

  “So then, if you and my grandson are allowed to decide, Roman will be abandoned by both his son as well as the woman he loves?”

  Rose’s head snapped up.

  “But… It is not that simple. Oh, Josephine! It is impossible!” At last, the dam of tears that had built up behind her eyes released.

  Rome’s mother crossed to sit on the sofa beside Rose and then dropped her arms around Rose’s shoulders. “Hush, child. Whatever has happened can be fixed. Simply ask my daughter. We Spencers have ways of wiggling out of scandals.”

  “Before the ball, I thought that perhaps… there might be hope. But it was horrible and… now… it’s over. I cannot bear to see him again.”

  “I suppose that you believe that since the ton knows you worked as a maid, that you cannot be married to my son, to a viscount.”

  “But how can you not hate me for it? He is your son!”

  “Which is precisely why I must help you. Already I have enjoyed your friendship and I respect you as a person. But if my Roman has fallen in love with you, well, then. You are a special woman indeed. He’s been a bachelor for too long. I was beginning to think…”

  “Oh, but no!” Rose sat up, wide-eyed. “The rumor is not true!”

  Josephine laughed. “Of course, it is not true. I have seen the way he looks at you. As has my daughter, as has Lady Asherton.” She smiled at Rose fondly. “And we have seen the way you look at him. No, my dear, I am not worried about the rumor.”

  But Josephine had not heard the worst of it. Rose covered her face with her hands.

  “Does my son know that you are here? Tell me you informed Margaret where you were going?”

  Rose could only shake her head again, her heart breaking to acknowledge all of the trouble she’d caused everyone.

  “They must be worried sick about you. I will send word.” She patted Rose’s leg. “Your situation is not hopeless. The outlook may not seem good now, but if handled properly, such matters can be… managed.”

  “But it is hopeless, Josephine,” Rose wailed, the fatigue, pain, and grief of the past twelve hours finally crashing down on her. “Once you know what I’ve done, you’re going to want me to leave and never return. I only came here so that Wesley would do so as well. He had gone to Bath with every intention of not coming back. My coach had just arrived. He thought I was on my way here and saw that I was having trouble.” Rose indicated her knee.

  Josephine’s brows rose. “We’ll have a physician attend to you this afternoon.” She turned to reach for a bell pull.

  Rose reached out a hand, as though she could stop her. “I don’t want you to go to any trouble. I just wanted Wesley—”

  “Rose.” Josephine sounded every bit the countess. “You are going to convalesce here at Raven’s Park. I am going to inform my son of your whereabouts and your safety, and we are going to figure all of this out together. You may think you are ruined, but you’d be surprised—”

  “I’ve lain with him! And I made it public, I announced this to the Willoughby servants in order to put an end to the horrible rumor. There was talk of hanging! I had to. It was becoming too dangerous! And I had to be convincing. So I boasted of his prowess. I believe I even alluded to the magnitude of his… appendage.”

  Silence met her outburst.

  “Oh, dear,” Josephine stared at her in horror. “Oh, dear.”

  Rose finally had her attention. “But he is safe. The rumor has been squashed at last.”

  “Oh, dear,” Josephine said again. “I think we’re going to need some tea.”

  Chapter 29

  Some Fatherly Advice

  Rome required great restraint to keep from riding cross country to Land’s End in search of Rose, to wait for word from the messengers he’d sent. Margaret pointed out that Rose might have gone to her parents, home or her aunt’s. It was possible even, that she’d remained somewhere in London.

  Not knowing, however, whether she was hurt, or safe, ate at his heart with each day that passed without news. He’d tracked down the hackney driver, an elderly gentleman who had scratched his head in confusion and said he might have taken her to an address on Bond Street, which made no sense, or perhaps somewhere near Grosvenor Square, or perhaps one of the posting inns. Rome fought the urge to shake the man until his memory dropped into place.

  He’d followed up on the vague clues he’d been given, nonetheless, and only been met with vacant stares and shaking heads.

  No one at any of the nearby posting stations could remember if a beautiful dark-haired young woman had taken a coach anywhere three nights prior. Even the prospe
ct of a hefty payment from Rome failed to jostle any recollections.

  London was a large city, and most went about their business without paying much heed to what went on around them.

  And so he did his best to address Parliamentary responsibilities in lieu of his father’s absence, items he’d neglected.

  Sitting at his father’s desk, in Burtis House, he forced himself to study one of the latest bills currently under review by the House of Lords. His father’s townhouse felt empty, quiet. Until his parents arrived for the Season, he’d have the Mayfair monstrosity to himself.

  Closing his eyes, he exhaled and rested his head against the chair. After reading through the first page of the bill and not retaining a single detail, he all but gave up. He was wasting his time. If Rose wasn’t here than perhaps he needn’t be either. He could just as easily be reached at Raven’s Park, where he could put his time to better use with Wesley.

  A glance at the broadsheets strewn about his desk nearly had him snarling. Everything about this town, about the ton, disgusted him these days. He would not open the newspaper that had been delivered earlier this morning. Although none of the articles named any of them outright, no one would be left in any doubt as to who Miss W was, who had formerly worked for Lady D and had been residing with Lady A.

  Rose’s decision to exchange her reputation for his had worked splendidly—too well, in fact. So much so that his announcement of their betrothal never made it beyond Willoughby’s study.

  Even days after the incident, Rose’s spectacular proclamation continued to provide fodder for the satirists. Just yesterday, one artist, in particular, had sketched a cartoon featuring the “Darling of the Lords.” The clever likeness featured Rome in bed wearing nothing but a loosely tied banyan, ladies standing in line—eager to be swived.

  Times like this he remembered why he’d avoided so many London Seasons.

  He turned and stared out the window. Where did she go?

  He’d planned on offering for her again. The evening had begun magically. For the first time in the course of their attatchment, she’d acted as though she could accept herself as his equal.

  Seeing her thusly had convinced him they could weather any storm.

  He still believed it. He believed in them. If only he could find her, damn it!

  The familiar sounds of a carriage rolling to a stop from outside the window, had Rome instinctively straightening his shoulders: his father’s carriage. Had his parents come already? They’d assured him they would remain at Raven’s Park with Wesley until Rome returned.

  But it was not both of his parents; the earl climbed out of the vehicle alone.

  Normally, his father would travel on his own mount but hadn’t been his usual indefatigable self this past spring. Rome swallowed hard as he watched the man he’d looked up to all his life step onto the pavement. The illness he’d suffered over the winter had taken its toll.

  Anxious that something might be wrong at Raven’s Park, Rome didn’t wait for his father to enter but strode into the foyer and out to the front step to greet him. An unexpected visit such as this usually foretold bad news of some sort.

  “Is Mother unwell?”

  “Your mother is fine. I simply decided to travel ahead of schedule.”

  His father never did anything without a concrete reason for doing so.

  “And Wesley?” Rome had experienced misgivings upon leaving his son alone with his parents. His mother could be rather too effusive and his father downright overbearing.

  “Aside from a few hiccups, he seems to be settling down. But you and I need to talk. An altogether, ah, shall we say, unexpected complication has presented itself at Raven’s Park.” The earl rubbed the back of his neck.

  And without allowing for any questions, his father strode purposefully toward his study. Of course, he would expect Rome to follow him.

  By the time Rome stepped inside and closed the door behind him, the earl was lowering himself into the chair Rome had recently vacated.

  “We need to grant them representation.” His father was reading through the bill Rome had given up on moments ago. And then glancing up, added, “And you, son, have a bit of a problem.”

  “The rumor has been dealt with.” He’d have thought his father already knew this.

  But his father was shaking his head. “Not the rumor.”

  But then what? “Wesley?”

  The earl scowled. “The boy is adjusting. More so this last week. Since he tried running off—”

  “He wants to leave?” A part of Rome’s heart, the part that hadn’t already been crushed by Rose, ached for his son.

  “He said he didn’t wish to cause trouble for us. He didn’t want to be somewhere he wasn’t wanted.”

  “I told him—”

  “He has since been set straight.” The earl narrowed his eyes on Rome. “The thing is, Darlington, that’s not the problem I was referring to.”

  Rome did not understand. Why didn’t his father simply say whatever had sent him all this way?

  “Wesley met up with a certain young woman in Bath before he was able to catch his coach. And that certain young woman explained to him why you had gone to Wales, that you wanted him in your life, and then she convinced him to return to Raven’s Park.”

  A certain young woman? It couldn’t be…

  “Miss Waring,” his father exhaled.

  At the mention of her name, at the knowledge of her whereabouts, Rome felt he could breathe somewhat normally again for the first time since she’d gone missing.

  “Is she hurt? Is she in good health?” If she was at Raven’s Park, then Rome needed to leave immediately. “I’ll have my mount readied.”

  But his father held out a hand. “Aside from an injury to her knee, which your mother tells me is healing nicely, she is fine.”

  Rome scrubbed a hand down his face.

  She had hurt herself when she’d fallen. He should have been at her side. He would have caught her. He should have protected her from the viciousness of the other guests.

  “She is the one?” His father’s question interrupted Rome’s berating thoughts. “Your mother insists that she must be. She wanted to send a note here, as soon as the girl arrived, but I wanted to speak with you myself before you did anything rash.”

  “I told the Willoughbys that I’d offered for her. Lady Asherton knows.”

  “Miss Waring is ruined in the eyes of Society. From what I’ve read,” his eyes flicked to the newspaper sitting on the corner of the desk, “she has no hope of ever being accepted here in London, by the ton.”

  Rome knew this. “I don’t give a damn about society.”

  “I assumed that was exactly what you’d say. And yet, Miss Waring apparently does give a damn. She’s only remained at Raven’s Park at your mother’s insistence. You see, your mother understands Miss Waring’s concerns. She’s spent a good deal of time with her.”

  Rome dropped into the chair across from his father. “What would you have done? Mother was not raised to be a countess. What if she’d refused to remain your wife when you took on the Earldom? What if she had insisted that she was not good enough, genteel enough, to stand by your side?”

  “That would be ridiculous. Of course, she was good enough.”

  “Yes, Father, but what if she hadn’t believed that? What would you have done?”

  “This isn’t the same.” His father scowled across his desk at Rome.

  “But what would you have done?”

  And at that moment, something softened on his father’s features, something Rome rarely, if ever saw. “I was a barrister, by then. I was making a good enough living for my family.” He grimaced. “I would not have claimed it. I would have refused to send in my request to the House of Lords.” He shook his head. “But the estate would have required someone to care for it. And your birthright was at stake, as was that of all my children. It would have been irresponsible of me. Damnit, Darlington, I wouldn’t have given her a choice. And a
s I have said, it is not the same. We were already married with children.”

  But an idea had planted itself in Rome’s mind. He rose from the seat and made a slight bow in his father’s direction. “Thank you, Father. I have a journey to make.”

  “You had best be certain you know what you’re doing, son,” his father called to Rome’s back as he exited the study.

  As he closed the door behind him, he barely heard his father muttering to himself. “Damned impertinent lovesick fool.”

  Rome smiled.

  Finally.

  He knew what he had to do. Because he was exactly that.

  A damned and impertinent lovesick fool.

  Chapter 30

  The choice

  Josephine poured tea into two cups before adding milk and sugar to both of them. “You must make certain he’s dealt with Mr. Pierce. After you’ve seen him, after you’ve given him the opportunity to state his case, then you may walk away with no regrets. That is if he does not change your mind.”

  Oh, but he would not. And she could not.

  Rose had hoped she wouldn’t have to see Rome again. It was going to hurt too much to tell him goodbye.

  And yet… she ached for him. She could barely breathe without him.

  She accepted the cup and saucer from Josephine and nodded. “Very well. If he comes.” She touched her lips to the rim of the cup and then added, “He may have already turned his affections toward Margaret, Lady Asherton. Surely, he has finally accepted the impossibility of…” She swallowed hard and then blew on the tea.

  She did not really believe this. He was not fickle. She wished she could be certain that she’d done the right thing. She’d made the decision for both of them and yet, he too, would know the pain of their circumstances for a very long time.

  “You cannot know until you see him again,” Josephine said firmly. “And he will come. I have no doubt about that. I would not be surprised if he shows up today. If he forgoes the carriage for a mount, he can cover the distance in almost half the time.”