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Chapter 1
THE EARL OF GREYSON
September 1820
With the Legendary Lords quickly succumbing to the siren call of wedded bliss, the hunt is on. And it seems that the young ladies of the ton have decided that of the remaining unmarried gentlemen, the Earl of Greyson is the next Legend most likely to fall.
* * *
Rumor has it that the earl has been avoiding his home and that he has been chased out of two of the more prestigious hotels in town. He is currently spending his days at King’s. Although many have tried, none have yet to breach that bastion for notorious rogues.
* * *
– Lady X, The Mayfair Chronicle
* * *
Disgusted, I tossed the newspaper aside. “Who is this woman?”
I was currently hiding in Rexford’s office, or at least that’s how it felt.
Rexford dropped into the armchair opposite me. “Whoever she is, she’s hiding her identity well. It doesn’t help that London seems to be on fire because of this nonsense with the Pain and Penalties bill. Makes it difficult to root out those who are behaving strangely.”
Rexford wasn’t far off the mark. Because our fathers were still alive, we held courtesy titles. That meant we didn’t have to sit in the House of Lords and partake in debating the bill that aimed at allowing King George to divorce the queen.
Many of the lords in the house seemed content to grant the king’s request. But when he’d barred the queen from his coronation in July, the public had been outraged.
Protests around London had peaked last month. While most of them had been quashed, there were still uprisings around town. I didn’t envy Moreland, Kendrick, Clifton, and Fairfax, who had to spend their days attending the hearings.
The one benefit was that it kept my father busy. After my mother’s death last year, he’d mentioned it might be time to settle down and marry. It had come as a shock when he told me I needed to secure an heir. After all, he hadn’t wed until he was forty. It was more than a little hypocritical for him to begin pressing me on the matter when I was still a decade away from that point.
I scowled. “Count yourself lucky that you haven’t had a target pinned to your back. It’s damn inconvenient.”
“God forbid,” Rexford said. “Though I do wonder why they’re not harassing Fairfax.”
I’d also been surprised by that fact. Perhaps I should swallow my pride and ask Fairfax if I could stay at his townhouse until all this nonsense passed. But as soon as the thought occurred to me, I dismissed it.
“What are you going to do now?” Rexford asked, as though he’d read my thoughts.
“I have my valet securing a room at another hotel.”
Rexford leaned forward in his chair, elbows on his knees. He steepled his fingers before his mouth in a vain attempt to conceal his amusement. “You’re going to run out of hotels.”
I was worried about the same thing. “They’ll give up soon enough.”
There was a light tapping at the door. At Rexford’s invitation, his club secretary entered.
Henry Clarence had been with Rexford since the founding of King’s. At one time, the older man had been employed as steward to Rexford’s father. I didn’t know all the details about what happened there, but apparently, the Duke of Sherbourne had been hiding an inheritance that rightfully belonged to his son in an attempt to keep Rexford under his control.
As the duke’s steward, Clarence had known many of Sherbourne’s secrets. But when Rexford had reached his age of majority, he’d chosen loyalty to Rexford over the duke. If not for this man, King’s wouldn’t exist. In addition, due to Clarence’s financial acumen, Rexford and the rest of the Legends had amassed a great deal of wealth. We all owed him more than we could ever repay.
“I’m sorry to interrupt,” Clarence said with a slight bow.
Rexford leaned back in his chair, his hands now resting on his midsection. “Has something happened downstairs?”
Clarence shook his head and then turned to look at me. “No, but someone is asking to speak to Lord Greyson.”
There was something about the way Clarence was trying to keep his expression impassive that should have warned me about what was coming.
