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‘Unfortunately that is so. And do you have to shout? My hearing is perfectly sound and you’re frightening the children.’
‘Children? Don’t be ridiculous. I’m their father.’
‘Precisely, and for that reason alone you should have more control over your temper,’ Eve snapped, having recovered from the shock of meeting the rude and thoroughly obnoxious gentleman for a second time.
Lord Stainton turned his dagger gaze on the terrified servants, who had ceased what they were doing and stood frozen to the spot, their eyes agape. ‘Who the hell let this emotional woman into my house without consulting me first?’
‘I am not an emotional woman and, as I have already told you, I am not deaf, so kindly lower your tone.’ Turning on her heel, she strode to the stairs to collect Estelle.
‘And what’s that supposed to mean?’ he thundered, striding after her irate figure with the silent sureness of a wolf, stopping in his tracks when he saw three apprehensive young faces peering down at him from the stairs instead of the usual two. Placing his fists on his hips, he glowered from the extra child to the angry young woman. ‘Miss Lacy,’ he shouted. When Miss Lacy failed to appear, he cursed softly and pinned Eve with his gaze. ‘Where has that child come from,’ he demanded, pointing a long narrow finger at the offending child, ‘and what the hell is she doing in my house, today of all days?’
Eve’s eyes flew to the children while still feeling concern for Sarah. After all, it was the purpose for which she had walked into the lion’s den just minutes before.
‘The child you are referring to is my daughter.’
‘Then do you mind removing her from my house and yourself along with her? As you can see—’
‘You are moving out,’ Eve snapped.
‘Do you always make a habit of stating the obvious, Miss…?’
‘Mrs—Brody, and, yes, I do,’ she said, her eyes flashing as cold fury drained her face of colour and added a steely edge to her voice.
He returned her gaze steadily, studying her as though she were some strange creature he had just uncovered in his home. He had already noted her slight American intonation; her Scottish name was another fact that intrigued a rather bemused Lord Stainton. There was a moment of silence in which he tried to calm himself.
At thirty-two years of age, six feet four inches tall and with amazingly arresting eyes he was a strikingly handsome man. Rugged strength was carved into every feature of his bronzed face, from his straight dark brows and nose, his firm and sensually moulded lips, to the square, arrogant jut of his chin. Just now he was also formidable as he glared at the young woman who stood before him on his black-and-white marble floor. Every line of his face was set with disapproval.
‘Have you had an edifying look at me, Lord Stainton—I assume that is who you are?’
‘You are correct in your assumption, Mrs Brody.’
‘You are also the most ill-mannered, arrogant, inconsiderate man I have ever encountered,’ she upbraided him coldly.
His eyes narrowed and his lips tightened. ‘I dare say I am all you accuse me of. It goes with the title.’
Eve was in no mood to be mocked, and she could see by the gleam in his eyes he was doing exactly that. ‘Then with you as an example, I can only hope you are the last titled Englishman I shall ever meet. Yesterday I fervently hoped and prayed I would never have the misfortune to set eyes on you again. Nothing has changed. Such an outward display of temperamental frustration is regarded as a sign of bad breeding where I come from.’
Ramming his fists into his waist, leaning forward, he stared at her in blank fury. ‘Really! You really are the most infuriatingly outspoken woman I have ever met. How dare you come into my house and say these things to me—things you know nothing about.’
‘Oh, I dare say a lot of things to a man who scares his children half to death and terrifies each and every one of his servants so they creep about in fear of you. The whole house vibrates with a tension that springs from you, Lord Stainton. It’s a wonder you have any servants at all to order about. By the look on your face I would wager I’ve hit a sore spot. Please don’t disappoint me by holding your temper. I would hate to see you explode with the effort.’
‘Believe me, Mrs Brody, you would not want to see me explode. I have a temper, I admit it, a violent one when I am driven to it. And how I raise my children and choose to live concerns only myself.’
Eve had made her point with an icy calmness. Lord Stainton was so taken aback by her outburst and her forthright way of speaking that his superiority evaporated as he stared at the attractive young woman whose fury turned her dark blue eyes beneath gracefully winged dark brows to violet. Framed by a heavy mass of auburn hair arranged neatly beneath her bonnet, her face was striking, with creamy, glowing skin, high cheekbones, and a small round chin with a tiny, intriguing cleft in the centre. Her nose was straight, her mouth soft and generously wide. His gaze moved over her slender body with a familiarity that brought a rush of colour to her cheeks.
Mrs Brody was a young woman in her early twenties, and she moved with a natural grace and poise that evaded most of the women he knew. Despite being a married woman, she exuded a gentle innocence that he found appealing. Beneath this he sensed an adventurous spirit tinged with wilfulness and obstinacy.
Appalled that he could find the time to scrutinise a complete stranger who had entered his home uninvited and chastised him so forcefully, when all around him there was complete and utter chaos, in sheer frustration he turned from her.
‘I’ve had enough of this charade, Mrs Brody. I have to get on. No one invited you here. There is the door. Use it.’
Eve could feel her face flaming in response to his rudeness. Her momentary shock gave way to a sudden burst of wrath. ‘You’re right, they didn’t. I came to make sure your children’s nurse arrived home safely. She was taken ill in the park and I considered it an act of human kindness to see that she made it home without mishap. Now that is done, it will be my pleasure to remove myself and my child from your house—when I have retrieved my dog from all this chaos, that is.’
He spun round to face her once more, and for the first time Eve saw his hard façade crack. ‘Dog? What dog?’ he echoed blankly. There was more than irritation in his question—there was stunned amazement.
‘The one that disappeared up your stairs when we came in.’
‘Are you telling me that there is an animal running loose in my house?’
‘That is exactly what I’m saying—but don’t be alarmed,’ she said, her voice dripping with sarcasm, ‘it won’t bite. Ah, here it is now,’ she said, thankful to see Sarah coming down the stairs with Jasper in her arms. Meeting her halfway, she took the pup and got hold of Estelle’s hand, impatient to get out of the house as quickly as possible.
‘I see Lord Stainton is out of sorts again,’ Sarah whispered softly, looking at Eve with quiet concern. ‘Are you all right?’ She glanced over her shoulder. ‘Have a care. His lordship is not a man to listen or be reasoned with when he’s in one of his infamous adverse moods.’
With her back to Lord Stainton, Eve smiled at Sarah. ‘Oh, I think I can manage his lordship, Sarah.’
‘Unfortunately his temper rules his head. He will soon calm down.’
‘No doubt so will I—when I am out of this mad house. Now you take care of yourself, and marry that young man of yours before too long.’
Confronting Lord Stainton for the last time at the bottom of the stairs, she lifted her chin, in no way intimidated by this man. ‘Seeing that you are in the middle of a self-destructive rage cycle, Lord Stainton, I’ll get out from under your feet. I’m only sorry that I subjected my daughter to the rantings of a very rude lord.’
‘You have caught me on a bad day, Mrs Brody.’
‘Considering I have encountered you on two occasions, Lord Stainton, judging by your behaviour it would seem that you have a bad day most days.’
‘Not at all, Mrs Brody. If your daughter has been in any way upset by my “rantings”, then she has a small measure of my sympathy—the remainder of it must go to your long-suffering husband.’
Eve looked at him directly. ‘I am a widow, Lord Stainton, and my husband’s suffering was of short duration. He was killed outright by an English bullet in New Orleans. Now,’ she said, grasping Estelle’s hand tighter and clutching Jasper to her bosom with the other, ‘I have no wish to detain you any longer. Good day to you.’ She swept out of the house like a galleon in full sail, too angry to say one more word.
In a state of suspense, Lord Stainton stared at the open doorway through which Mrs Brody had just disappeared, feeling as if a hurricane had just blown itself out. He also felt bewildered and extremely angry with himself and a complete idiot, his expression holding more than a little dismay and remorse at what Mrs Brody had just divulged. From an early age he had been taught by his parents and his tutors to project a veneer of civilisation, regardless of how he was feeling, particularly when his emotions were incensed. He had just failed dismally.
‘Miss Lacy,’ he called, halting the nursemaid as she climbed the stairs to take Sophie and Abigail to their rooms. ‘Mrs Brody? Who is she and where does she live?’
‘Apart from her name I—I don’t know who she is, Lord Stainton. She never said. Although she did say she lived on Berkeley Street.’
‘I see.’ He was about to turn away when he remembered something Mrs Brody had said. ‘Miss Lacy.’
‘Yes, sir.’
‘Mrs Brody did mention that you weren’t feeling well,’ he said on a softer note. ‘Do you need to see a doctor?’
‘No, sir. I’m feeling much better now.’ She bobbed a little curtsy. ‘Thank you for asking.’
‘Good.’ With the skill he’d perfected when his wife had left him, he turned away and coldly dismissed Mrs Brody from his mind.
Disturbed and upset following her encounter with the insufferable Lord Stainton, and feeling a headache coming on, with a morose sigh Eve sank on to the sofa in the drawing room of the Seagroves’ elegant house on Berkeley Street, unable to believe the furious altercation had happened at all. Her anger had evaporated somewhat on her walk back, but she was still shaken. The dejection that had replaced her fury was completely uncharacteristic of her.
With the children happily ensconced upstairs in the nursery and William, Beth’s devoted husband, at work at the Foreign Office, glad to have some time to themselves, Beth poured them both some tea and sat back. She cast a sharp, searching look at her friend’s exquisite features.
‘What has you looking so grim, Eve? Tell me.’
‘I met someone today.’
‘Did you? Well, there’s nothing so unusual about that. Is it someone I know?’
‘I would think so. Lord Stainton, and I have to say he is the rudest, most conceited man I have ever met in my life.’
Beth laughed. ‘Then that explains it. What happened?’
In no time at all Eve told her everything that had occurred, from the moment she had met Sarah Lacy in the park to being ordered out of Stainton House like one of the criminal fraternity. She didn’t tell her about their previous encounter in the park, since Beth was always chiding her for going off by herself. When she had finished Beth looked stunned.
‘Dear me! It sounds to me as if you have upset that illustrious lord.’
Eve grimaced. ‘I didn’t mean to—although I suppose I was somewhat rude and outspoken, and in his house, too. Do you know him, Beth?’
‘My dear Eve, the whole of London knows Lord Stainton.’
‘What do you know about him?’
‘He’s devastatingly handsome for one thing—you must admit that.’
Bringing the image of the tall, lean and superbly fit Lord Stainton to mind, Eve could not deny that despite his stern, finely chiselled mouth and the arrogant authority stamped in his firm jaw and the cynicism in his cold, light blue eyes, he was breathtakingly handsome. ‘Yes, I suppose he is.’
Beth sighed almost dreamily. ‘I do so like handsome men.’
‘I know. That’s why you married William,’ Eve commented teasingly.
‘Oh, no,’ Beth said, chuckling softly as she took a sip of her tea. ‘William is sensible, reliable and conscientious, but also sensitive, gentle and idealistic. That is why I married him.’
‘I agree, he is all those things. William is a paragon among men, and not a hardened cynic like Lord Stainton. What else do you know about him?’
‘Well, on a physical and intellectual level there’s none better. He inherited the title from his brother, who died several months ago. He lives quietly and isn’t often seen in society these days, although I have seen him on occasion at the more sedate affairs. He’s been the object of gossip ever since he divorced his wife Maxine about a year ago. She’s the daughter of the Earl of Clevedon—Lord Irvine. At the time the divorce created a scandal that set the ton on fire.’
Eve stared at her in shocked amazement. ‘Divorce? He divorced his wife—the mother of those two lovely children? Why on earth would he do that?’
‘I don’t know all the details, but what I do know is that his wife caused complications from the day he married her. Compounded in her many faults, apparently, was the fact that she was exquisitely beautiful, elegant and clever and attractive to other men. A man of Lord Stainton’s character would not tolerate infidelity.’
‘She had an affair?’
‘Several, apparently. After the birth of her second daughter it’s rumoured she indulged in one affair after another, the most intensive being with Lucas Stainton’s own brother. Her behaviour really was quite scandalous. She actually walked out on Lord Stainton to live with his brother in the country.’
‘She left her children?’ Eve gasped, appalled that any woman could do such a thing.
‘Yes, she did. Apparently the divorce turned out to be extremely expensive—it virtually ruined him. Of course Lucas’s brother didn’t help matters, being an inveterate gambler. The Stainton coffers were depleted long before he died.’
‘Then Lord Stainton will have an unenviable task on his hands replenishing them.’
‘Indeed he will.’
‘Is he ostracised because of his divorce?’
‘On the contrary. It all adds to his mystery and charm. The ton positively pander to him and no one would dare give him the cut. Of course he is free to marry again, but the aristocratic mamas on the look out for suitable husbands for their darling daughters do not consider an impoverished, divorced lord at all suitable. However, he’s favoured for his looks and every hostess in the ton has been trying to lure him back into society, but he declines their invitations.
‘I believe he’s selling his London house and moving to the country.’
‘Yes, I know. Laurel Court. It’s close to William’s parents’ house in Oxfordshire and it’s very beautiful, although sadly neglected. If he’s selling his house in Mayfair, then hopefully it might help pay some of the debts. If not, who knows what he will do. If he wants to keep the estate, then he might even resort to marrying an heiress—and why not? He won’t be the first impoverished nobleman to marry for money and he won’t be the last.’
‘That seems rather drastic, Beth.’
‘To you, having lived almost all your life in America, I suppose it does. In English society, marrying for money is considered a perfectly acceptable undertaking. However, pride is a dominant Stainton trait and Lord Stainton will find it extremely difficult and distasteful having to resort to such extreme measures. But that said, I do believe he might honour us with his presence tonight with Lady Ellesmere being an old friend of the family and the occasion being a rather sedate affair.’
Eve’s eyes snapped open as a blaze of animosity and a shock of terror erupted through her entire body. ‘Lord Stainton will be there?’
Beth laughed, in no way sorry for her friend’s consternation. ‘Don’t be alarmed, Eve. He may decide not to go.’
‘On the other hand he might.’
‘Try not to worry. By now perhaps he looks back on the incident with amusement.’
‘If he does, then he has a warped sense of humour, Beth. He will not find the incident amusing, believe me. In fact, I might stay at home. Lord Stainton will not want to see me any more than I wish to see him. Besides, I have developed this terrible headache in the last hour. An early night suddenly seems most appealing.’
‘Nonsense. You are going. With a room full of matrons and grandes dames, I am relying on you to talk to me. As for the headache, I’ll give you a couple of my powders to alleviate it. Take one before you go and another before you go to bed.’
By the time Eve was ready to leave for Lady Ellesmere’s party, her head was aching quite badly. Having taken one of Beth’s powders and feeling no effect, she took the one she was supposed to take before she went to bed. After tucking Estelle in bed and kissing her goodnight, she went to join Beth and William.
Lady Ellesmere’s house was a blaze of light when the carriage drew up outside. A liveried footman stepped aside as they swept into the marble-floored hall. Entering the salon, they paused and Eve’s eyes swept the assembled guests dressed in their finery, the ladies beautiful in silks and satins fashionably cut.
With an eye for comfort, luxury and fashionable elegance, the walls were hung with ivory silk delicately worked with a gold-and-green design, the colours reflected in the upholstery and the heavy curtains hung at the windows. Expensive Turkish rugs covered the floor. The room was aglow with the dazzling radiance of myriad candles, the delicate crystal pendants of the chandeliers splattering the walls with prisms of light. Soft music being played by a string quartet could be heard in the background and for those guests who sought entertainment two adjoining rooms had been set aside for gaming. The French doors were set wide to catch the coolness of the night and to allow guests on to the wide lantern-lit terrace.
It was an informal affair. Lady Ellesmere, a striking middle-aged widow, was seated on a gold-coloured chaise longue. Like a queen, bedecked in sparkling jewels and her richly coloured silk skirts spread about her, she reigned supreme.
Taking two glasses of champagne from a silver tray, William handed them to his companions, then took one for himself and surveyed the glittering company.
‘Rather splendid, isn’t it?’
‘As usual,’ Beth answered. ‘It’s what you expect at Lady Ellesmere’s affairs. How is your headache, Eve? Has the powder I gave you helped?’
Eve smiled. Relieved to see no one she would rather not, she began to relax. ‘Yes, I believe it has—although I did take the other one just to be on the safe side.’
Beth stared at her in shock. ‘You took them both? Oh, Eve, you really shouldn’t have. They really are quite strong. I wouldn’t drink too much champagne on top of them if I were you.’
William chuckled softly. ‘Just one of Beth’s powders is enough to send the sufferer off to sleep for a week, Eve. Two powders and you can guarantee being rendered unconscious for a fortnight.’
Feeling perfectly all right and in no way concerned, Eve laughed and took a sip of her champagne. ‘I never drink more than two glasses anyway, so worry not, you two. In fact, I think when we’ve spoken to Lady Ellesmere I might partake of some refreshment,’ she said, her eyes straying to the connecting salon where tables had been laid out with delicious delicacies.
Lucas saw Eve the instant he entered Lady Ellesmere’s salon. Seeing her made him stop, shocked into inaction. His brows drew together in disbelief that she was here, and that the harridan who had invaded his house earlier was the glamorous red head strolling casually through the roomful of wealthy elite with William Seagrove and his wife.
Lucas was with his good friend Henry Channing, who was easy to please and the most amenable of men. Henry revelled in London life, which was a change from the backwoods of Newcastle he’d been brought up in. With his looks and his father’s wealth he was well received everywhere, his trade origins being conveniently forgotten.
