Scandal Meets Its Match (The May Flowers Book 7) Read online

  “I am but a pale shadow of my brother’s grace and good manners,” Lionel said. Phin wanted to elbow him in the ribs for laying it on so thick. “But if you will excuse me,” Lionel went on, “I see an old friend whom I haven’t spoken with in ages. I’ll leave the two of you to stroll the Serpentine alone,” he finished with a particularly teasing look, then marched off as though he hadn’t a care in the world.

  “I like him,” Lenore said, turning in unison with Phin to watch Lionel walk away. “He’s cheeky, as you Brits say.”

  “My dear, you have no idea,” Phin agreed with a broad smile. He turned to Lenore, drinking in the sight of her dark-haired, pale-skinned beauty. She wore a hat with ridiculously ostentatious plumes that covered her just enough to preserve her complexion but didn’t carry a parasol, like too many of the ladies in London had taken to doing. Her walking dress was white with accents of green that matched her eyes and a silhouette that highlighted her excellent figure. The result was that she seemed so much more open and welcoming rather than, essentially, arming herself with fashion to keep men away. “Would you care for a stroll, Miss Garrett?” he asked.

  “That is why I am here, Mr. Mercer,” she replied.

  When Phin offered his arm, she took it. Together, they made their way into Hyde Park, traveling the paths that men and women had walked for generations in their efforts to get to know one another—and everyone else in London who had come to see and be seen.

  “It is a fine day, is it not, Mr. Mercer?” Lenore opened the conversation as they reached the edge of the Serpentine. “I enjoyed October in England very much last year, and I suspect I shall enjoy it just as much, if not more, this year.”

  “Are Octobers not as picturesque in the savage and untamed West, where you come from, then?” he asked, hoping to discover much more about her background.

  She laughed. “Wyoming is not half as savage as it was only a generation ago,” she said. “Why, Haskell, the town I am from, is a burgeoning metropolis these days.” When he expressed surprise, she grinned and went on with, “It is. We have several churches, a school, a slew of mercantile endeavors, a cracking town hall, and even a fine hotel. Yes, and saloons and brothels too. We’re not all heathens. Although the population of cattle still outnumbers that of humans by about twenty to one. And there do seem to be more drunken brawls than in London.”

  “You might be surprised,” Phin said with a wry grin, deliciously amused by her banter.

  “Haskell has far more church socials and baseball games as well,” Lenore went on.

  “Alas, all London has to provide is cricket and society balls,” Phin said with a sigh. “It would seem we are falling behind our American cousins.”

  Lenore laughed. The sound was so free and unfettered that it filled Phin with the sort of excitement he usually only felt when seeking out ways to research the stories he wrote for Nocturne. In fact, if Lenore expressed even the slightest hint in being a willing research partner, he was certain he’d have enough stories to fill a dozen issues within a fortnight.

  “I’m surprised you left your progressive home in Wyoming,” he said, looking for a way to tease the truth about her engagement to Freddy Herrington out of her. “Weren’t there enough suitors there to satisfy you?” He accompanied the question with a look of blatant heat as a way to gauge Lenore’s knowledge and openness to wickedness.

  She met his look with a coy smile that had his cock straining against his trousers in a way that ran the risk of being obscene. Lenore Garrett was game, all right.

  “What is it you lot say about Dollar Princesses?” she asked in return. “That we’re only interested in marrying a title so that we can lord it over our friends back home?”

  “That does seem to be what they say,” Phin answered.

  A moment later, he realized she’d evaded his question completely.

  “And that’s why you’re here?” he asked, attempting to steer her back into talking about her past and her interests. “To marry a title?”

  “I’m engaged to Freddy, aren’t I?” she countered him, her lips tense as she teased him with a half-smile.

  Damnation, she was good. He could see in the glitter of her blue-green eyes that she was going to lead him on a merry chase to get even the littlest bit of information about her past.

  “So that is why you’re engaged to Freddy,” he said in return, arching one eyebrow.

  She flushed so deeply and so suddenly that Phin was certain there was even more to the story of her and Freddy’s all-too convenient engagement than he’d guessed at.

  “Oh, look,” Lenore said, picking up her pace as they walked. “I believe that’s Lady Beatrice and Lady Diana coming this way.”

  Sure enough, Lady Beatrice Lichfield and Lady Diana Pickwick were walking several yards ahead. There was no way to avoid stopping to talk to the two society ladies, especially since it was clear they had all seen each other. Lady Beatrice waved to Lenore.

  “How perfect that we’ve run into each other,” Lady Beatrice said as they met and stepped aside so that the other walkers wouldn’t run into them. “Diana and I were just saying that we need to invite you to the musicale as well.”

  “There’s a musicale?” Lenore asked, smiling from Lady Beatrice to Phin. “What fun.”

  “The May Flowers are hosting a musical event on Friday to benefit some of the fledgling women’s clubs that have come to our attention,” Lady Diana explained. “The more we can support our sisters fighting for the causes surrounding women’s rights, the better.”

  “I am all in favor of supporting women’s rights,” Phin said, meaning it genuinely, even though he suspected saying so would improve his standing in Lenore’s eyes.

  “I knew you would be,” Lenore said, sending him a fetching, sidelong look. “What sort of a musical evening is it?” she asked Lady Diana. “Will there be dancing and carousing?”

  Lady Diana laughed. “No, this is more of a recital. Various people will be performing in my family’s conservatory.”

  “It sounds delightful,” Lenore said.

  If Phin read her eyes correctly, it wasn’t half as delightful to her as an evening of dancing and carousing would have been. His imagination was suddenly filled with images of her dancing in her petticoats, the way he’d seen some women do in photographs and engravings of saloons in America’s Wild West.

  “We’ve managed a coup in securing Mrs. Helena Olson for the evening,” Lady Diana went on, her eyes bright. “She’s been taking the West End by storm this year. It’s an honor that she would step off the stage long enough to perform for us.”

  “Then I simply must be there,” Lenore said, all smiles and good grace. “That is, assuming I’m invited?”

  “Of course, you are,” Lady Beatrice said, clapping her hands together as though her world were as perfect as it could be. “And you must come as well, Mr. Mercer,” she added, though more as though it would have been rude of her not to invite him, since he was standing right there when Lenore’s invitation was issued.

  “I would be delighted,” Phin said, nodding regally and adjusting his glasses as he straightened.

  In fact, he was certain he’d find more than enough material for the next issue of Nocturne by attending. His day was turning out to be far more productive than he could have imagined.

  “Are you looking forward to the festivities?” he asked once he and Lenore had moved on, continuing their stroll along autumnal garden walks lined with trees in full color.

  “I’m sure it will be entertaining,” Lenore said, not sounding convinced. When she caught Phin giving her a scolding stare, she grinned and said, “The last truly exciting party I attended was the one hosted by Lady Phoebe and Danny Long. Now that was a party.”

  “I take it you prefer invigorating entertainment, then?” Phin asked, again infusing his question with every sort of suggestion he could manage.

  Lenore’s answering grin was enough to heat his blood to boiling. “I like to enjoy myself
,” she answered cryptically.

  “Then I hope that the musical evening lives up to your expectations,” he said, squaring his shoulders and turning his face up to the sun.

  The beauties of Nature weren’t what he truly enjoyed about the walk, though. He couldn’t have been happier walking with Lenore on his arm. Mostly because of all the things he indulged in thinking about the two of them doing together in the future, if he played his cards right. He’d known there was a spark between the two of them months ago when Lady Phoebe drew them into her plans, and he could feel that spark ignite into something more now. One thing was certain to him above all others, though. It was only a matter of time before he had Lenore Garrett in every way he wanted her.

  Chapter 3

  Lenore had never been so excited to walk into a virtual stranger’s home to listen to a bevy of amateur musicians make a hash of music she was indifferent to in her life. Lord Pickwick’s house was lovely, she was sure, and decorated in a surprisingly modern style with several works of the Impressionists displayed prominently in every room. The pretty young woman who sang in the corner—Helena Olson, if Lenore remembered correctly—while Lady Diana’s guests visited with each other, speaking almost too loud for the poor woman to be heard, was perfectly delightful. But from the moment Freddy escorted her through the Pickwicks’ front hall and into the conservatory, all Lenore could do was crane her neck this way and that and stand on her toes in an effort to see through the crowd of guests.

  “Looking for someone in particular?” Freddy asked with a wry grin.

  Lenore held his arm, like any good fiancée would upon entering a social event, but she smacked him with her folded fan all the same. “You know very well who I’m searching for.” She winked up at him.

  Freddy chuckled, his amused expression likely giving anyone who happened to glance at them the erroneous but convenient impression that the two of them were madly in love. He leaned closer to Lenore to ask, “So Mr. Mercer has been invited to this event, has he?”

  “I received Lady Diana’s invitation while Mr. Mercer was standing right next to me in Hyde Park the other day,” Lenore whispered back, catching the approving grin of a matronly woman who, like so many others in London, likely believed it was high time that Lord Frederick Herrington marry, like he was supposed to. “She couldn’t very well issue an invitation to me while leaving him out.”

  “And I would wager that suits you just fine,” Freddy said, strolling around the perimeter of the conservatory with her and helping her to search Phineas out.

  “I am always happy to see my friends,” Lenore answered with a coy grin.

  She was beyond grateful to have found such an understanding friend in Freddy. Freddy was probably grateful to have found such an understanding faux fiancée in her. She was perfectly at ease with his proclivities and his bond with Reese, having known men like him back at home in Haskell. But just because she was willing to play her part in protecting his reputation with their engagement didn’t necessarily mean he had to be willing to let her eyes and heart wander to someone who might be more suitable for her.

  It was just a crying shame that she couldn’t do a damn thing about it, even if she did find someone more suitable. Even if that man was Phineas Mercer.

  Lenore’s mood teetered on the verge of going sour before Freddy cleared his throat and nodded to a potted palm in the far corner of the conservatory, near a wall of French doors. “There’s your lover now,” he muttered.

  “Ssh!” Lenore smacked his arm with her fan again, bursting into giggles, her heart fluttering and her face heating. “You’ll be sorry if anyone hears you say that.” When Freddy sent her a sardonic look in reply, she tilted her head up and said, “Besides, he’s not my lover. Yet.”

  Freddy laughed, raising a hand to his mouth and clearing his throat when a pair of young debutantes glanced to him with a start. The two had their heads together and were whispering over several sheets of pink-tinted newsprint, but they smiled and simpered at the pair Freddy and Lenore made as Freddy escorted Lenore past, heading toward the corner where Phineas stood.

  “Good Lord,” Lenore whispered as they proceeded around the room. “Those two had a copy of Nocturne, and it looked to be new.”

  Freddy rolled his eyes. “And once again, the minds and morals of London’s elite will waste away as all and sundry rush to read the salacious content of that publication.”

  Lenore snorted. “You’re just put out because it never contains any content that you and Reese might find educational.”

  Freddy flushed such a deep shade of red at her comment that it was all Lenore could do not to giggle. “For your information,” Freddy went on in a voice so low Lenore almost couldn’t hear it, “we need no lessons in those subjects. We do quite well on our own.”

  “Everyone needs edification,” Lenore argued, though she couldn’t sustain her argument without laughing. The very thought of Freddy and Reese was as titillating as it was mystifying, and seeing as they were two of her dearest friends at the moment, like brothers to her, she didn’t want to know.

  “Ah, Mr. Mercer. Fancy seeing you here this evening,” Freddy greeted Phineas as he and Lenore grew near. Freddy’s tone suggested he was in no way whatsoever surprised to see Phineas.

  “Lord Herrington,” Phineas greeted him with a respectful bow, adjusting his glasses as he straightened. He wore an impeccably tailored suit and was groomed to perfection—so much so that he blended in with every other gentleman in the room. “The pleasure is all mine.”

  “It will be if you agree to take my miscreant fiancée off my arm so that I can have a moment’s peace,” Freddy said with a teasing look for Lenore.

  “You always say such charming things, my love,” Lenore told him in return, batting her eyelashes up at him.

  “I would be more than happy to relieve you of the burden, my lord,” Phineas said with exaggerated solemnity. Lenore thanked her lucky stars that the savvy light in Phineas’s eyes told her he was in on the game and knew the lay of the land exactly.

  Freddy let go of Lenore’s arm, and she stepped gracefully from his side to Phineas’s. “Ah. I feel ten pounds lighter,” Freddy joked. “And I think I see my sister and brother-in-law over by the piano. I have a familial duty to say hello to them. If you will excuse me.” He bowed, then marched away, toward where Fergus and Henrietta O’Shea were, indeed, chatting with a few members of their circle of friends nearer to the piano.

  “That was rather curt,” Phineas said with a grin that said he didn’t mind the situation at all.

  “Yes, well, Freddy and I have a deep understanding of each other and our preferred methods of entertainment,” Lenore said, pretending to scan the room as though something else besides Phineas might catch her attention. Which was never going to be the case.

  Phineas laughed gently. “You have no idea how cheering it is to know that there are other progressive souls in this world,” he said. “There are times when I feel like I alone can see the way the world should work, and then there are times when it becomes clear just how quickly the young generation is changing their minds and mores to accommodate a new way of thinking and being.”

  Lenore couldn’t help but laugh. “That might be the most flowery and philosophical way I’ve ever heard someone admit to embracing modern immorality yet. You should be a writer.”

  Phineas shrugged and adjusted his glasses again, a splash of color making his already handsome face even handsomer. “I may have taken pen to paper once or twice before,” he said, his smile cagey.

  A twist of excitement hit Lenore’s gut as she sensed a secret just waiting to be uncovered. “Really? What have you written?”

  “This and that,” Phineas said with a shrug.

  “Have you ever been published?”

  He hummed and tilted his head to the side.

  Lenore’s eyes widened. “Have you written anything I might have read?”

  Before he could answer, Lady Beatrice and Lady Diana brok
e away from the main crush of the guests and joined them in the corner with the palm. They were both breathless and their color was high. Lady Beatrice was attempting to conceal a pink-tinted issue of Nocturne between her and Lady Diana.

  “Have you read the latest?” Lady Beatrice asked, her cheeks a far brighter pink than the paper Nocturne was printed on. “It’s positively delicious.”

  “I haven’t yet,” Lenore said, instantly caught up in Lady Beatrice and Lady Diana’s excitement.

  “It’s scandalous,” Lady Diana said, her eyes wide and bright.

  “Then by all means, let me see.” Lenore inched closer to Lady Beatrice, sending Phineas a saucy grin over her shoulder before leaning in to read the journal.

  “If Papa knew I had this, he would confine me to my room from now until Christmas,” Lady Beatrice whispered as Lenore scanned through the salacious story on the paper’s front page. “Heavens, if Harrison found out I was reading this, he’d…why, I don’t know what he’d do.” Lady Beatrice shoved the paper into Lenore’s hands and leapt away, circling around Lady Diana, as though her friend could block her from whatever sin Nocturne might impart on her.

  Lenore was tempted to shake her head at Lady Beatrice’s behavior, but the story in Nocturne had caught her attention to the exclusion of everything else, even Lady Diana telling Lady Beatrice, “Harrison might actually propose at last if he knew how much you enjoy reading about such things. And it wouldn’t be a moment too soon.”

  “If he hasn’t proposed already, knowing I read this sort of story might prevent him from ever proposing,” Lady Beatrice argued. “Gentlemen prefer pure and innocent maidens, don’t they?”

  Lenore was certain she would have had a reply to that if the words of the story she scanned through—one of the author of Nocturne’s most sinful yet—hadn’t caused her heart to drop into her stomach to play with the butterflies that were running riot there. The feature story in the new issue was about a certain Lady A who was locked in a tower by her overbearing mother. That didn’t stop the suitors from climbing up the tower walls to have their wicked way with the hapless but lusty Lady A. Lenore scanned the rest of the pages of the story, which seemed to be little more than a series of intimate encounters with the men bold and brave enough to make it past Lady A’s battleax of a mother and scale the tower walls. It was a few, particular lines of dialog that arrested Lenore’s attention, though.