How to Beguile a Beauty

Lydia nodded her agreement and watched Tanner hurry off to stand by his friend. It was as Jasmine had said, as everyone who knew him said: the Duke of Malvern was an honorable man.

Jasmine was now speaking with a young woman dressed all in virginal white, her complexion as pale as her gown, and since Lydia didn’t wish to interrupt, she busied herself by at last opening her dance card, to see what the baron had written that had brought such a strange smile to Tanner’s face.

The baron had scribbled his name on the second line, the fifth, and the eighth. The three dances he had mentioned. But it was the way he had signed the card that now brought a smile to her face.

Wilde. Wilder. Wildest.

What a wicked, wickedly interesting man.

The captain had been gentle, almost respectful, their attraction to each other expressed only in longing looks, but never in word or action. He had been, she was realizing more and more, not only her first love, but also her beginning. Not her end.

Tanner was an honorable man and a good friend (who had a spring in his step, according to Sarah), and a rather bemused but interested look in his eyes when she’d come into the drawing room this evening. She’d known, even at first feared, that Tanner could mean more to her than to simply be her friend. But she hadn’t considered that he might know that. Besides, Captain Fitzgerald stood between them, a bond and yet also a division.

Baron Justin Wilde, however, was a man totally outside her limited realm of experience, a man who well could be teasing her, or he could be using his teasing to cover something that was perhaps more than a casual interest.

Why, she was beginning to feel like the heroine in a Pennypress novel. All she needed now was a menacing stepfather, or a dark castle complete with a ghost.

It was good that Rafe was a duke, and could frank her correspondence for her, as Lydia already felt certain her letter to Nicole was going to run to two sheets, if not more. Which, for a quiet person who was accustomed to little excitement in her life, was rather extraordinary, indeed.

Chapter Four

TANNER AND JUSTIN stood on the dark balcony outside the ballroom, companionably sipping from their glasses as they leaned against the railing, looking out over the gardens and the inviting paths lit periodically by flambeaux.

It was good to have Justin Wilde back in his life, Tanner thought. They’d had grand times together in the past, young men fresh from school and the country, eager to explore the world and maybe make their own mark on it. They’d laughed together, traveled to the races and boxing mills together. Raced their curricles neck-or-nothing, drunk deep in disreputable taverns, even shared an opera dancer or two. They’d been young, so young, all of them, with their whole lives ahead of them.

Now those memories seemed to be of another world, another time, one before Justin’s marriage, his flight to the continent after the duel, and then many long years of war.

So many friends had been lost to that war, good men all. Jonathan, Richard, Harry…Fitz. A man needed to hang on to those friends he still had, stand with them, stand by them.

“I’m not hiding out here, you understand,” the baron said after a bit.

Tanner carefully kept his gaze on a married couple—but not married to each other—seemingly intent on finding a less well-lit area of the gardens. “Absolutely not. I would never think that of you.”

“It’s a mob of bodies in there. The woman must have invited all of London, and all of London came.”

“Perhaps even some who were not invited,” Tanner said, a small smile playing about his lips.

“I’ll ignore that remark. Balls can be exceedingly boring, don’t you think, when there’s no card room?”

“Yes, without doubt. Boring. And the wine is warm. All in all, a distinctly disappointing entertainment. I can’t imagine why any of us is here. Why are we here, Justin? And by here, I mean on this balcony.”

Justin drained his glass, and then stared into it for a while. “All right, since you’re being so insistent, I’ll admit it. I am hiding, perhaps just a bit. I didn’t expect Molton’s response. Some of the others, yes, I did expect idiots to be idiots. But not Molton. He was friendly enough when we were in Vienna. We worked together with the Austrians, securing Marie Louise’s condemnation of her husband so that the Allies could brand him an outlaw.”

“But now you’re both in Mayfair. Molton will follow the pack, perhaps even more so if he fears that someone will remember he’d been seen with you in Vienna.”

“At least Chalfont hasn’t asked me to remove my unacceptable self from the premises. There is that.”

Tanner turned his back to the rail, looking in at the bright, overheated ballroom. “Are you serious?” he teased his friend. “His wife is in alt, confident she has scored the coup of the Season, having you here. Her ball will be on everyone’s lips tomorrow. She was mortified, she was horrified, she feared her dear husband might at any moment draw his sword and order you out at the point of it. But as you’d already killed the once…”

Justin also turned about, to lean back against the railing. “So you’re saying I’m too outrageous to be in polite company, but too dangerous to exclude? How interesting. I might even like that. Shall I take to dressing all in black, do you think? Apply myself to developing a scowl?”

“You mean to combine a bit of Brummell’s severe attire with a hint of Byron’s pout? The ladies might enjoy that.”

Justin did a fairly good imitation of a dark scowl. “Ladies always enjoy the thought that they might be part of some titillating drama or the other. It’s their bread and butter. How else did George collect an entire treasure box filled with locks of pubic hair, for God’s sake. Women are fools. And then we have to defend their idiocy.”

“Sheila was one of Byron’s conquests?”

Justin shrugged. “I never inquired. Couldn’t bring myself to really much care either way, frankly, as long as she didn’t do anything so publicly stupid as Caro Lamb. I’ve had eight long years to refine on my mistake. I failed my wife, Tanner. I wed Sheila’s beauty, not concerned with more than scoring such a coup, having her on my arm. It was only once we’d gotten to know each other that we both realized we’d each married a stranger and, at heart, really didn’t even like one another. Let that be a lesson to you, my friend. Admire beauty, take it to bed if you must. But marry it? No, don’t do that.”

Tanner knew he had to ask this next question. “You’ve danced twice with Lady Lydia, Justin. You admire her beauty?”

The baron pushed himself away from the railing, to look carefully at Tanner. “Am I poaching on already-fenced property, my friend? If so, you’ve only to tell me. My friends do not appear to be so thick on the ground at the moment that I would risk alienating one of them.”

Tanner didn’t know how to answer that question. Was it only a few hours ago that he’d blithely told Rafe he would gladly welcome competition from somewhere other than the grave?

He’d watched Lydia and Justin as they’d moved around the dance floor in a waltz, and she’d seemed animated, quite happy, the two of them chattering the entire time…unaware of the sidelong looks, the furious whispers.

His friend Justin was handsome, rich, affable, and intelligent. Tanner didn’t mind that sort of competition. But how does a man compete with someone whose past made him also appear dangerous, even deliciously intriguing? Worse, how did one compete with a friend, dead or alive?

It was rather as if Lydia had bloomed today. First in the Park, then again once Justin had come on the scene. Tanner didn’t know what had happened, was happening. Perhaps Lydia had felt herself under her more gregarious sister’s thumb, and now felt free?

No, that couldn’t be it. Lydia and Nicole were more than sisters, even more than simply twins. They were very good friends. Still, he could understand how comfortable it might be for a basically shy person like Lydia to allow her sister to take the center of the stage, while she watched from the wings.

He’d thought—yes, he would admit it to himself—that, once Nicole was gone from the stage, as it were, Lydia would turn to him for companionship, and that their friendship, founded in tragedy, might grow into something more.

He’d even watch as she was pursued by other suitors, confident enough in his own ability to capture her heart when the time was right, when she could be sure of her decision. Especially now, today, as Lydia seemed to be ready to face life on her own, finally out from behind her sister’s shadow.

What a hell of a moment for Justin and his wicked smile, his even more wicked wit, and his romantic tragic past to show up on the scene…

“Tanner? Was the question that difficult?”

“What? Oh,” Tanner said, realizing he’d become lost, perhaps even tangled, in his private thoughts. “Forgive me. I was debating whether I should discuss Lydia with anyone. But you’re not just anyone, are you?”

“No. I’m an extraordinarily singular person,” Justin said, smiling that winning smile of his. “Are you about to make some confession to me?”

“Hardly.” Tanner came to a decision, not that he was particularly pleased with it. “No, Justin, Lady Lydia and I are friends, nothing more.”

“And now you’ve disappointed me, and after I’ve been so forthright and truthful with you.”

Tanner looked into the ballroom, to see Lydia dancing with a fairly well set-up young man he didn’t recognize. She was talking to him, smiling up at him, just as she had done with Justin. Definitely a blooming flower, a butterfly suddenly shed of her cocoon, taking flight for the very first time, her new wings glittering in the sunlight.

“She looks very happy, doesn’t she?”

Justin turned to look into the ballroom. “And that’s unusual? Tanner, have I ever informed you that I loathe a mystery? And even worse, that I will now feel it my duty to pick at you and pick at you until you’ve told me what I want to know?”

“I’m sensing that, yes. And I admit it, I’m a poor liar. Very well. Lydia was all but betrothed to a good friend of mine,” Tanner explained, once more turning his back to the ballroom. “Captain Swain Fitzgerald. He was killed at Quatre Bras.”

“Damn,” Justin said, also turning to lean his forearms on the railing. “A deuced tricky thing, stepping into a dead man’s boots.”

Tanner’s smile was rueful. “I wouldn’t have put it quite that way, but yes, it is. I was the one who was with him when he died, promising him I’d take care of Lydia for him. I was the one who brought her the news of Fitz’s death, delivered his personal belongings, what turned out to be his final letter to her.” He drank the last of his wine and carefully placed the glass on the railing. “Oh, how she hated me for that.”

“A natural reaction, I’m afraid.”

“I’ve never seen such grief, Justin. Lydia is a young woman of strong emotions, although she keeps them well tamped down beneath her quiet, rather shy demeanor. I’ve often wondered since then, would I ever inspire any woman to grieve so over me?”

“Planning on sticking your spoon in the wall, are you? No, don’t bother to explain. I understand what you mean. You wondered—wonder—if anyone would ever love you quite so much. We all do, my friend, and we are all, for the most part, doomed to disappointment. But we have begun to digress, so let us return to my original question. Clearly you envision a time when you and the lady are more than friends. Tell me to back away and I will.”

Tanner shook his head. “No, I won’t do that. I have no claim on Lydia.”

“And I’m selfish enough to take you at your word, even as I believe you’re still lying to at least one of the two of us. Now please tell me about Miss Harburton. Another very beautiful young woman.”

“Jasmine? She’s my third cousin.”

“Yes, she told me that during our dance. She told me about your father’s dying wish, as well. A very…sharing young woman, your cousin. She certainly kept me from the burden of cudgeling my brain to make scintillating conversation with a near stranger.”

“Jasmine talks when she’s nervous.”

“Really? Then shame on me, for I must then have truly terrified the poor child.”

Tanner laughed. “Oh, it’s good to have you back, old friend. I fear I’ve been much too sober and serious this past year, living a more quiet life.”

“And yet here you are this evening, with both Lady Lydia, who you say you lay no claim to, and Miss Harburton, whom you have likewise not claimed. That’s your idea of a quiet life, juggling two beauties in the same evening? And, then, as if you didn’t have problems enough, a handsome reprobate with an appreciation of if not a genuine affection for beautiful women stumbles into the Second Act. Yes, Richard Sheridan wouldn’t have been amiss if he’d said he saw the foundation for a rather marvelous comedy of manners, even a true farce to outdo The Rivals. It might have been the remaking of his career, as a matter of fact, poor dead fellow that he is.”

Tanner shot him a dark look, but then smiled. “Remind me why I’m your friend.”

“You don’t see me in the role? I could be the black sheep with a tarnished past but a heart of gold.”

“You have a heart? That’s good to know.”

“Ouch! Now I’m wounded to the quick. But, as I seem to be a glutton for punishment, I think we have hidden my shameful self out here long enough. And if I haven’t thanked you for standing my friend in there, I do now.”

“What you need, Justin, is a new scandal, to take everyone’s attention away from you. That shouldn’t take too long, I imagine. In the meantime, you might want to consider not, well, forcing yourself on Society.”

“After this evening, I have no invitations at all, so that’s not a worry. But you’re correct. I shouldn’t be jumping back in with both feet quite so dramatically, should I?”

“I’m sorry, Justin…”

“Don’t be. I could have been hanged, you know. Having Molton and a few others dealing me the cut direct is at least not fatal. Ah, and as if I just conjured him up. Tanner, go away. You don’t need to be involved in this.”

Tanner saw Lord Molton advancing toward them, his cheeks flushed with drink and false courage. He stepped forward, putting himself between Justin and the viscount, placing his palm against his lordship’s chest. “Not the time nor the place, sir,” he warned quietly.

“Robbie Farber was m’friend.” Molton leaned around Tanner to point an accusing finger at Justin. “And he killed him, shot him down like a dog while poor Robbie stood there with an empty pistol.”

Tanner took one step to the side, once more blocking Molton’s path, staring pointedly into the man’s wild eyes. “Because he’d turned and fired on two. Do you remember that part? I do, because I was there. Farber bears at least as much blame as Justin here. Let it go. It’s over. Let the dead lie, and leave the rest of us to get on with our lives. Robbie’s death was unfortunate, but it was eight long years ago. The baron is sorry. Of course he is. We’re all sorry your friend is dead.”

Molton once more shifted his fevered gaze to the baron, who was standing with his arms at his sides, his relaxed posture and amused smile not really aiding the tense situation, and then back at Tanner. “He doesn’t care. Do you see that? He doesn’t care.”

Molton turned on his heel and stomped back inside the ballroom.

“You could have said something, offered him something,” Tanner pointed out to Justin.

“I suppose I could have, yes. We could then have asked everyone to form a line and I could apologize in turn to each and every person who thinks that firing in self-defense is a crime for which I should beg forgiveness. I apologize once, Tanner, and it would never end.”

“You challenged the man to a duel, Justin. You do remember that part, don’t you?”

“Did I have a choice? Answer me that, my friend.”

Tanner had been present to hear what Robert Farber had said about Justin’s wife. About how she had the beauty of a Venus and the sexual prowess of a block of stone, about how he could have serviced himself with more satisfaction, and saved the effort of having to talk her into bed. Robbie Farber had been an idiot, and to make such a statement in Justin’s presence could by some be considered suicide, and not murder.

“No, you had no choice. You had to defend Sheila’s honor. But you do have a choice now.”

Justin raised one well-defined eyebrow. “Meaning?”

“I don’t know what I mean. You’ve served notice that you’re back, that’s most definite. But will you continue to butt your head so forcibly up against the ton, or perhaps pull back for a space, let the ton become accustomed to seeing you in the park, on Bond Street, wherever. You seem to be trying to do it all in one go—rather pushing everyone’s faces in the fact that the Crown has pardoned you.”

“You keep saying that. And I’m beginning to understand the merit in your words. Very well, one more dance with the fair Lady Lydia, and I will take my leave.”

“Justin?”

The baron smiled and shook his head. “You’re right again. She should not be involved. Please extend my apologies to her, and excuse me as I tuck my tail between my legs and depart the scene of my latest crime.”

“Justin, for the love of God—”

“No, I’m being serious, Tanner. I should have gone directly to my estate in Hampshire, remained there as word slowly filtered back to London that I have returned, and only shown my face after a goodly amount of time had passed. Which is what I will do now.”

“You’ll leave London? When? I’m sure Lydia would wish to say goodbye.”

“I won’t be stealing out of town before dawn, Tanner. I’m sure we’ll meet again before I continue my penance in the country.”

“While wearing a specially made hair shirt from your favorite tailor, no doubt,” Tanner said, which put a smile on his friend’s face.

“We’ll meet again before I go. Oh, but before I forget. I feel the need to ask a most personal question. Are you experiencing some sort of financial pinch I might be able to help you with, my friend? And feel free to tell me to mind my own business.”

Tanner looked at him curiously. “Why would you ask that? No, I’m more than well-to-go, thanks to my father’s prudent stewardship. He wasn’t much of a father, but he did hold every penny most dear.”

“Interesting,” Justin said, glancing toward the ballroom. “So the necklace gracing your cousin’s beautiful neck is not then a part of the famous Malvern jewels?”

“The emeralds? No, they’re part of the collection. It seemed sensible to provide Jasmine with the loan of a few minor pieces for the Season. Why?”

“Why? Because they’re—no, I couldn’t be sure without my glass. Does the jewelry reside with her, or with you?”

Once again, Tanner glanced toward the ballroom. “With me. Justin, are you saying—”

“The emeralds are paste, yes, that’s what I’m saying, or trying very hard not to say. Very good paste, but paste just the same. Tomorrow at ten, Tanner? I don’t believe I have any other engagements. Most especially after I desert the dear lady whose invitation eased my way in here tonight. Perhaps I’m not a nice man, after all. I’ll bring my glass, just to be certain. But I doubt I am wrong.”

Tanner nodded mutely, and then watched as the baron made his way down the flagstone, only entering the ballroom at the end of the balcony, close to the stairs, to collect his hat and gloves and be on his way.

The duke remained where he was for several moments, mentally counting up the pieces of the Malvern jewelry he’d brought with him to town, and wondering if he should contact his solicitor for a more complete accounting of his funds.

Thomas Harburton had been keeping the journals at Malvern for nearly a decade, even while Tanner’s father was alive. He’d know if the estate was solvent, wouldn’t he? No, best not to ask him, not until he knew what questions to ask.

“Damn,” he muttered under his breath, the sound of violins intruding on his uncomfortable thoughts. Another set was forming, and Lydia was expecting Justin to come claim her.

He set off across the ballroom.

Chapter Five

JASMINE HARBURTON WAS fanning herself so violently that the crimped ruffling around Lydia’s neckline was actually moving in the resultant breeze.

“We have become part and parcel to a scandal, Lady Lydia,” the girl said, her eyes wide with what could be horror, or delight. It was difficult to know with Jasmine. “I understand Tanner’s feelings of obligation—Lord knows nobody should know that more than I—but how outrageous of him to foist the baron on us both, causing the pair of us to become the center of so much attention.”

Then she turned to Lydia and smiled, and it became clear that delight had won out over horror. “Not only is my dance card full, but I’ve had to turn away two applicants. One of them a viscount, the other an earl. I’d say that Papa will be furious when I tell him, but then he may just as easily decide that there is nothing more apt to bring a man up to snuff than to believe he may be replaced. Oh, dear, I’m prattling again. I do that whenever I’m nervous. Oh, I already told you that, didn’t I? I’m so sorry. It takes just the thought of marrying Tanner to set my tongue on wheels.”

The subject of Tanner, and this assumed betrothal, had been touched on earlier, before the baron’s arrival, before both Lydia and Jasmine had taken to the dance floor with him, before they both had seemed to become objects of considerable attention.

Lydia hadn’t wished to appear eager to enter into any such conversation then, and she was even more loath to do so now.

She was, however, curious. Much more curious than she ought to be, she was certain. So where else to begin, but with the obvious?

“Tanner’s father has been dead these two years and more, I think. Is that correct?”

Jasmine nodded furiously. “And Tanner has been back from the war for one of them, yes. Well, he was back for a minute, but then someone let Boney off his leash, as Papa says it, and he was gone again. In any event, his mourning period is most decidedly over. Papa said that’s why he didn’t ask for my hand that first year, which is understandable, what with his father only barely tucked into the mausoleum. And then Bonaparte did his flit and had to be dealt with—oh, I keep saying that, don’t I! I’m so sorry,” she said, snapping her fan shut and putting her hand on Lydia’s arm. “Tanner told me about your fiancé perishing at Quatre Bras. A Captain Swain Fitzgerald, I believe he said. Such a lovely Irish name. How terrible it all must have been for you.”

Lydia didn’t bother correcting the young woman. After all, in her mind, the captain had been her betrothed. “Thank you.”

“Oh, Lady Lydia, you’re so gracious. And I’m such a muddlehead.”

“Lydia, please, Jasmine. We needn’t be quite so formal.”

Jasmine clapped her hands to her bosom. “We’re crying friends? Oh, how wonderful. I have so few friends here in town that I must declare I’ve been woefully lonely. Thank you, thank you.”

Really, the girl was sweet, and faintly silly, and perhaps even tiring. But Lydia believed her heart was pure. Besides, she had to admit to herself at least, the subject of Tanner and his dragging feet when it came to the matter of a proposal to his third cousin interested her. Quite a bit.

“You’re welcome. And, now that we’re getting to know each other better, perhaps you’ll explain why you’ve taken your cousin in such dislike.”

“Dislike? Oh, no, no. Tanner is the best of good fellows, really he is. I should be very honored, flattered—all of that—if he was to ask for my hand, make me his duchess.”

“Oh,” Lydia said softly.

“If I wanted to be his duchess, that is. But I don’t.” Jasmine looked out over the ballroom and then leaned close to whisper in Lydia’s ear. “My heart lies elsewhere.”