Page 76 of Rogue Lyon

“Stupid.” Meredith sniffed. “Bold and stupid.”

“Yes, that, too, I suppose, but what does Mr. Delaware have to do with it?” Bethany asked.

“We saw him.” Meredith reached for a kerchief and dabbed her face. “At the hotel. Jules had put a ring on my finger, not a real one, a circle of brass from the key ring, and we were pretending to be married.”

“Why?” Bethany frowned.

Meredith said nothing.

Bethany looked at Nancy. “Oh, I see.”

Nancy pressed her lips together into a tight line.

“Like I said, it was stupid, but… But that’s what we did.”

“Jules Habsburg.” Bethany let out a whistle. “The man is dapper, I’ll give him that, and charming, to boot, but he’ll never marry. He has too much fun flirting his way around the ton.”

“I know. I know.” Meredith threw herself back to the bed and a fresh wave of sobs came out.

This was bad. Really bad. And she hadn’t even confessed that her courses were now late. Very late.

Because that information was really going to cause a storm.

“I bid you follow me to my office, Mr. Habsburg.” Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s tone dared him to even try to defy her. “There are clearly things to be discussed regarding a young lady in my care.”

Jules obeyed and followed the swish of the widow’s black gown through a hum of chatter that was laced with both his and Meredith’s names. He wiped his brow on his kerchief again. How on earth had it come to this? And of all the dratted bad luck, to have Mr. Delaware show up when he had.

They left the gaming hall and Jules’s footfalls echoed around the corridor as he was led to Mrs. Dove-Lyon’s office.

Lysander looked him up and down, as though he could find out that way just what Jules had done.

He’d know soon enough.

The entire ton would know soon enough.

How foolish he had been to think they could pretend to be married for a few sweeter-than-sweet nights and get away with it. Nothing was private. Nothing was secret.

Or so it seemed.

Mrs. Dove-Lyon entered her office and took a seat behind a large desk that was full of papers, thick ledgers, and pens.

She didn’t ask him to sit.

Jules put his envelope of prize money in his pocket and rocked back on his heels. How was he going to talk his way out of this one?

“It seems scandal follows you around like a lost puppy, Mr. Habsburg. Or perhaps I should say an entire litter of lost puppies.”

“I don’t even know what happened. If I did—”

“Do not tell me you don’t know what Mr. Delaware was talking about. He is a fine, upstanding individual and I, like everyone else in the room, heard the truth in his voice. He believes you to be married to my Meredith.”

“Your Meredith?”

“She is here, safe under my roof, or so her mother believes.” She nodded slowly and steepled her hands. “Ah, I see now. She didn’t go to visit her mother in Wales, did she? She went to Paris with you.” She clicked her tongue on the roof of her mouth. “Little minx.”

He pulled his eyebrows low and bit on his bottom lip. There was nothing he could say to save Meredith from that accusation. She’d been found out. “I suppose, Mrs. Dove-Lyon, I am very persuasive. You shouldn’t be too cross with her for bending to my will.”

“Ha! Yes, that you are. Very persuasive to a naive young woman, very persuasive, indeed.” She leaned forward. “So why did you come up with this lie about you being married to her?”