“What is the title?” Lady Helena asked. “I am in desperate need of an escape from the tragedy otherwise known as my life.”
Unfortunately for Lady Helena, her father was pressuring her to marry one of his political cronies, the odious Lord Hamish White. Lord Hamish was an unforgiving, cold stickler for propriety who promised to make a lively young woman like Lady Helena utterly miserable. A marriage between them would end in one of two ways: she would make him mad with her refusal to bend to his dictates, or he would crush her spirits.
Jo cleared her throat, searching her mind for the title of the last book she had read. When nothing came to mind, she decided to do what she must—invent one. “The Devil of London, I believe it is called.”
There. One could only hope Callie and Lady Helena would forget all about the book’s title before going off in search of it. Moreover, it was a fitting way to describe the man who was haunting her thoughts and keeping her up so late at night. Not just with their illicit jaunts. After she returned home, she would lay awake in her lonely bed for hours, staring at the ceiling, thinking ofhim, and tossing and turning and burning alive.
“Sounds thrilling,” Callie said, taking a sip of tea. “I shall borrow your copy when you are finished reading it.”
“And I will borrow it from you afterward,” Lady Helena decided.
Wonderful.Now her friends were expecting to borrow a book that did not exist. She ought to have known better than to offer a prevarication instead of the truth.
“Er, it is a very long book,” she said. “Long and exceedingly complicated. I have many, many pages awaiting me. Indeed, I will probably be reading it for several more weeks, at least.”
Lady Helena frowned. “Complicated? I thought you said it was entertaining and filled with inappropriate humor.”
“And desserts,” Callie added, grinning. “I have been ravenous for desserts recently. All I want is sugar and kedgeree, all day long. It is the strangest thing, I vow. Poor Sinclair has been suffering through breakfasts and dinners of kedgeree each night for the last week alone on my behalf.”
Callie was expecting her first child with her husband, and though her delicate condition was cleverly hidden beneath the fabric of her handsome gown, she would soon begin to show. Although she had been ill at the onset of her pregnancy, recently, she had been spending her days looking like a glowing goddess.
“That is because Lord Sinclair is a wonderful husband,” Lady Helena said with a wistful smile. “I am happy for you, that you have been fortunate to marry a man who adores and worships you. When I think of spending the rest of my life tied to Lord Hamish, I want to retch.”
Thank heavens they seemed to have fled the topic of the nonexistent book which was decidedly not the reason for her recent lack of sleep. While Lady Helena was a newer acquaintance, Callie knew Jo far too well, and Jo was more than aware her story would collapse like a house of sticks with too much prodding from her friend.
She was not ready to reveal the nature of her agreement with Decker to Callie yet. Not to anyone. Keeping it a secret between herself and Decker made it seem somehow more intimate and potent, all at once. Besides, she was certain Callie would deliver a stern sermon on all the reasons why Jo should not trust Decker. Jo had already told herself as much too many times to count. The man’s charm had blasted right through any impediment, including Jo’s good sense.
“Surely your father will see to reason and not force you into marrying Lord Hamish,” Callie was saying to Lady Helena now, frowning mightily. “Can he not see you would be miserable with the man? You deserve to find a husband who will appreciate your wit, a husband who will not dull your shine but will seek to enhance it. Lord Hamish deserves a bride who is as salty, crusty, and sleep-inducing as he is.”
“That is rather harsh of you, Callie,” Jo interjected dryly. “I think Lord Hamish deserves to marry one of his own kind. An eel.”
Lady Helena laughed wryly. “I do wish Papa shared your opinion of the man. But I am afraid my father is more concerned with his political connections and the state of his coffers than he has ever been about his daughter. I am nothing but an impediment to him, unless I can prove myself useful. As he has told me on numerous occasions, a daughter’s worth is in the credit she does her father.”
“Forgive me for being blunt, but your father ought to be tossed out a window,” Callie said. “You are not a cow to be sold at the market. You are your own person, and your worth is immeasurable.”
“There must be some way to ruin your father’s plans,” Jo suggested, grateful to have something to think aboutotherthan Decker for the time being.
“I have begged and pleaded, and so have my brother and mother.” Lady Helena rolled her lips inward, as if suppressing her emotions.
“You need to ruin your reputation,” Callie said. “Lord Hamish detests impropriety. His reputation is spotless. If you cause as many scandals as possible, he will no longer want you as his wife.”
“That is the perfect plan,” Jo agreed. “You need someone who is wicked. A rogue of the worst order who will agree to be caught in a compromising position with you.”
“That could work,” Lady Helena said slowly, seemingly turning the notion over in her mind. “It is something I have considered, but I have never had the daring to try it. Nor had I an inkling of who I ought to enlist for the task. My social circle is frightfully small.”
“I have just the man in mind.” Callie grinned, her voice triumphant. “Mr. Elijah Decker, Lord Sinclair’s good friend.”
“No!” Jo blurted with more vehemence than necessary.
Two pairs of eyes shot to her.
Drat. You are not acting suspiciously at all, Josephine.
“Why not?” Callie continued. “He is the perfect gentleman for such a job. He would not think twice about ruining a lady at her request if it is for the noble good. His reputation is already quite dark and I—”
“No,” Jo repeated, interrupting though she knew she should hold her tongue. But the thought of beautiful, golden-haired Lady Helena and Decker together was enough to split her in two. “That would never do. Mr. Decker is…his reputation is too outré, certainly. He is too much of a rogue. Lady Helena needs someone else.”
Someone who wasnotDecker.
