Chapter Eight
“I have nae been to Hyde Park,” Jamie answered one of the twittering girls who surrounded him at Lady Jersey’s rout. He looked over the girl’s head to watch a blond man with frilly lace—lace—at his cuffs approach Mari. What kind of a man worelace?
Jamie nearly gaped when Mari blushed, lowered her lashes and then gazed back at the fop. Was sheflirtingwith the man? Jamie drew himself up to his full height. The dandy looked like someone he could put on his arse with a single blow.
“Would you?”
Frowning, Jamie turned his attention back to the petite brunette, who was giving him a wide-eyed stare. He couldn’t remember her name. “Would I what?”
The girl next to him with the violet eyes giggled. “I knew he was not listening to you, Olivia.”
“Because Mr. MacLeod was givingmyrequest consideration,” the red-haired one on his other side said.
Those two girls he remembered. Violetta Billingsly and Amelia Tansworth. Practically every time he turned around they were there, vying for his attention. They were beauties, but they were both vain and snappish, reminding him of his stepmother. He had no idea what request the lass had made, but the short brunette—Olivia?—was red with embarrassment. She didn’t deserve that. His father had instilled chivalry in him.
“I am sorry. Would you repeat the question?”
“It was not a question exactly.” She looked at him with big brown eyes. “I…I offered…that is…I thought…you might like to go for a stroll at the park and see how beautiful it is. With my chaperone,” she added hastily, her face still a bright pink.
Och, now he had done it. Set himself right up. He swore silently for letting Mari distract him. Right now, she was laughing at something the dandy had said. What could someone who wore laceandhad pointy-toed shoes so shiny a man could see his face in them possibly have to say that would interest Mari? His frown deepened, and the brunette took a step back.
“It…it is all right if you do not want to go,” she said as Violetta and Amelia snickered.
Jamie forced himself to refocus. “My apologies, Miss Olivia. I am somewhat distracted this evening. Perhaps I could join ye—and yer chaperone—sometime when things have slowed down a bit for me. I am currently trying to manage my brother’s accounts.”
“Oh. Yes. Certainly. I…I will look forward to it.” She managed a smile before excusing herself and practically scampering away.
His conscience tweaked him. The girl seemed nice enough, but he wasn’t about to do anything that could be taken as courting—and definitely nothing that would put the parson’s noose around his neck. If his needs grew strong, he could always pay a visit to Covent Gardens whereladiespreferred coin to promises.
“I swear, Olivia is almost as mousy as Abigail,” Amelia commented to Violetta.
“You would think Abigail, being an earl’s daughter, would dress more fashionably,” Violetta answered. “Her father has enough wealth.”
“Well,” a blonde whose name Jamie didn’t remember either, cut in, “you know what Lady Sherrington was like. Perhaps the earl does not want his daughter following in her mother’s footsteps.”
“That was rather a delicious scandal with Lady Sherrington and Wesley Alton, was it not?” Amelia replied.
Jamie’s ears perked up. “The same Wesley Alton who escaped from Bedlam?”
The group turned wide-eyed looks at him. “He escaped?” Violetta asked in a hushed tone.
“Yes. The story was inThe Times.”
“We do not read the news. How common,” Amelia said.
That sounded like something his stepmother would have said. Jamie wished he could assure Sir Newell, who was glowering at him from across the room, that the man was more than welcome to Amelia. Right now, though, Jamie needed to learn more about whatever had taken place. Mari and Jillian might be in danger.
He gave the ladies his most disarming smile. “What scandal?”
They all started speaking at once. Luckily, he’d long ago learned to decipher his sisters talking at the same time. Jamie learned that the Earl of Sherrington’s wife, Delia, had been quite loose with her morals, having had several lovers, including Alton, and that she’d died unexpectedly at Newburn while a guest of Wesley Alton’s. There were suspicions regarding her death—and here Violetta slanted a look at Jamie—just before the prince regent announced Jillian’s betrothal to the old marquess’s son.
“Oh, my goodness,” Violetta interrupted herself. “I nearly forgot how that ended. Your brother created quite the stir dashing in and abducting the bride as he did.”
“Jillian dinnae have a wish to marry Alton.”
“Actually, the whole thing sounded quite romantic,” the blonde said with a sigh. “I wish I could have been there.”
“Romanticwas nae the way I recall it,” Jamie said wryly. “The miserable cur forced—” He stopped abruptly as the ladies’ mouths all hung open with no sound coming out.
