Page 22 of Kiss the Scoundrel Farewell
She was a formidable woman despite her small size. He wondered if she ever used that cane for other purposes besides walking. The carved lions seemed to watch him even as she twisted the mahogany stick back and forth. He could see this lady running a league of widows.
“I am on my way to Lady Drake’s residence in Surrey, and I wondered if you might know her frame of mind before she left?” Simon resisted the urge to squirm under her cool blue stare. “I’m afraid we’ve had a misunderstanding, and I must resolve the issue.”
“Are you marrying the girl?” she asked, never taking her gaze from his face.
So much for niceties. “If she’ll have me.”
Lady Wyndam smiled. A triumphant smile. A grin like a Cheshire cat. “I knew you weren’t betrothed. Margaret was harder to convince.”
“She knows, then?” he asked, sitting back in the chair and letting out a loud breath. Thank the saints above. “Then why did she leave?”
“She’s no longer certain you’re a scoundrel. It will still take some convincing. Now, I will speak plainly since you already know of her masquerade. The last gentleman she taunted, Lord Belten, followed her the night of the fire. Her driver, an accomplished pugilist, took care of the situation. But we thought it wise for her to leave Town.” The countess pursed her lips. “Nasty temper, I heard. I didn’t want them crossing paths.”
“I see.” Simon frowned. “He’s seen her face?”
“No, but he recognized her mask and cape. When the guests fled, he saw her leave. So he would know her driver and the coach.”
“I didn’t see Belten that night.” He silently berated himself for leaving her.
“You were busy being a hero. She was proud of you, by the way.” The countess studied him. “If you happen to know anything about Lord Belten that might deter him from his pursuit…”
“Blackmail, my lady?” She was daunting. He liked her more.
“In case his ardor turns into an obsession, if he discovers who she is, it would be nice to have a bit of leverage. That’s all.”
“You would have made an excellent man, my lady.”
She smiled at Simon. “Margaret is a good woman who’s been treated badly. Her natural sweetness and confidence only needs some tending to grow again.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
“Are you a competent gardener?” Lady Wyndam asked with a smirk.
He grinned. “A master.”
As he left the countess, another idea came to him. Twenty minutes later, he was knocking on Paddy O’Brien’s door. A young maid answered, showing him into the entry hall, then scurried up the stairs.
A moment later, Paddy and his wife came down. “Hayward,” bellowed the big man, smoothing back his fading red hair. “Wasn’t expecting company. Good to see ye, boyo.”
“And you, sir, Mrs. O’Brien,” he greeted each with a nod. “I’ve come on business.”
Seated in the familiar parlor, eyeing the wolfhound once again at the Irishman’s feet, Simon explained—as briefly as he could—the situation with Lady Drake and Lord Belten.
“Ye want da goods on Lord Belten,” Paddy summarized with a grin.
“Exactly. I don’t intend to use the information unless necessary,” Simon stressed. “But Lady Drake has had too much misfortune in her life. Dealing with my parents when I return will be enough hardship.”
“They don’t approve of her?” asked Mrs. O’Brien.
“Let’s say they’d prefer a more advantageous match.”
Paddy chuckled. “Smart man. I’ve seen too many settle when it comes to marriage. But da institution is for a lifetime. Dat’s a lot of years to be with someone ye don’t love.” He winked at his wife. “Can I share a bit o’ wisdom with ye?”
“Please,” Simon said, leaning forward.
“Be true to yourself, boyo. A man has certain t’ings he wants to accomplish in dis life. Not only being da man ye’re supposed to be, but da man ye want to be.” O’Brien nodded. “But no man can do it without da help of a good woman.”
Simon realized the truth of those words. “Hopefully, I’ll have her when I return.”
