Page 107 of The Dangerous Lord

Chapter Twenty-Five

Rumors abound on New Year’s Eve, when the prospect of another year tempts the gossips to be daring.

Lord X, The Evening Gazette, December 31, 1820

Felicity glanced over at Ian as the carriage approached Lord Stratton’s town house. He’d been quiet ever since their talk, but now he looked positively somber. She wished he didn’t feel compelled to make this test of her love, but she understood it. He couldn’t accept her love until he forgave himself, and she would help him do that in time.

Despite his own concerns, they were truly married now. She couldn’t wait to see Mrs. Box to tell her how happy she was with her situation. A lifetime with Ian, free of secrets and uncertainties. What woman wouldn’t be ecstatic?

“What are you smiling about?” he grumbled.

She couldn’t resist teasing him. “It’s my first ball as the Viscountess St. Clair. If Miss Taylor could gain the confidences of so many people, only think how much material the Viscountess St. Clair can gather for Lord X!”

“Then thank God it’s Lord X’s name on your bloody column, that’s all I have to say,” he muttered, though a ghost of a smile touched his lips. “Otherwise, I’ll be fighting duels every week over it.”

Delighted that his words implied a future for them, she quipped, “Oh, but I’m thinking of using my real name now. When I went to tell Mr. Pilkington I was marrying, he suggested calling it, ‘Her Ladyship’s Secrets, by the Viscountess St. Clair.’ Doesn’t that have a nice ring?”

He raised one eyebrow. “Are you trying to send me to an early grave?”

“Hmm. If you die, I’d be the Dowager Viscountess St. Clair. That has a nice ring, too.” When he scowled, she added, “It’s a joke, Ian. Must I always explain my jokes to you?”

“When they’re not funny, yes.”

He didn’t smile, and she regretted teasing him. She could see it would be some time before he felt secure of her. But then, she could wait. As long as he loved her.

“Don’t worry,” she said softly, “I’ve no intention of using my real name. I told Pilkington you would never approve. He was disappointed, but when I pointed out that the other choice was having me stop writing for him, he saw it my way.”

That finally brought a smile. “I’m sure he did. Pilkington is no fool. He knows better than to cross swords with you, my love.”

My love. Now that had an even nicer ring to it.

The carriage stopped and they disembarked. He offered her his arm, and she took it with a burst of possessive gladness. They began to climb the stairs, but had scarcely moved halfway up before Jordan came running out to greet them.

“Ian,” he said without preamble, “I’ve been watching for you.”

The muscles in Ian’s arm stiffened beneath her fingers. “What’s wrong?”

“Your uncle is here.”

A quick shudder went through Felicity.

Jordan hurried on. “He’s heard about your marriage and is telling tales. About you and Felicity.”

“What kind of tales?” Felicity asked.

Jordan shot her a glance. “Well, for one thing, he found out you’re Lord X. He’s spread the news of that quite broadly.”

“It appears your new pen name will become necessary after all,” Ian said coolly.

Felicity groaned. “No doubt Mr. Pilkington decided I needed a little push in that direction, and your uncle was handy for his purpose.”

“Yes, but Lennard has twisted it to suit his own purposes, whatever they are,” Jordan said. “He’s told everyone that you discovered Ian’s darkest secrets as Lord X, so Ian forced you to marry him to keep you quiet. That’s why the wedding was so hasty, and why you wrote those comments about Ian’s being honest with his wife.”

Felicity winced. Must all her columns return to haunt her? She glanced up at Ian’s rigid face. He hated this and blamed himself for it. She could tell.

“There’s more, my friend,” Jordan went on. “Your uncle is saying other things as well. About you in particular.”

Ian’s arm was like a band of iron under her fingers. “Not the usual gossip, I take it. What’s he saying?”