Page 2 of The Gentleman's Deception

She had to keep up the pretense for only a few more hours, and then she would befree. Ruby Chadwick, The Darling of Drury Lane, would vanish forever. And Lavinia Fernley, who’d been safely hidden away for the past three years, could emerge and live as she chose, away from the audiences and naysayers and ardent suitors.

It all hinged on everything going as planned tonight, Lavinia reflected as she hurried to her dressing room—a few more such scenes that she must play, in addition to her performance onstage, before freedom was truly in sight. She needed all her wits about her if she were to be successful in those scenes. She must be more believable than ever if she was to have the life she’d always hoped—dreamed—of having. It would also take a miracle.

Oh, please send a miracle, she prayed after she slipped inside the door and leaned against it, her eyes clenched shut, her hands clutched at her breast.

* * *

It was as if a curtain had fallen, Lucas Jennings thought as he watched his best friend, Anthony Hargreaves, the Earl of Halford, dance with his new countess. The end of a chapter, the conclusion of an act.

He and Anthony had known each other at Cambridge. Anthony, however, had earned his degree, while Lucas had left university after his first year, choosing to enlist in the infantry instead. It had been an impulsive decision, perhaps, but he’d had his reasons at the time.

In the meantime, good fortune had eventually brought Lucas and Anthony together again. Anthony had achieved the rank of captain and had arranged for Lucas to be assigned to him as his personal assistant and valet.

The arrangement had been beneficial to both men. Indeed, each had saved the other’s life on more than one occasion while fighting Napoleon in Spain. Anthony had been at death’s door earlier this very year, wounded after a night of battle in the town of Badajoz, Spain. Lucas had worked fiercely to keep him alive and then to help him recover from the nightmares resulting from the experience. It was gratifying to see him now, today, smiling at his good fortune of both health and happiness.

Lucas had played a part in that and was not sorry he had delayed his own homecoming in an effort to first see Anthony whole again. In fact, it had been a relief to stay in London with his friend, as it had allowed him to delay the inevitable. Now it was time for him to move on. Return home to his family, his parents and brothers and sisters and their families. He would begin his journey today. The wedding ceremony was over, and Lucas had eaten hisfill at the banquet that had followed. His belongings were already packed.

Anthony and his bride made their way to Lucas’s side. “I can see that you are keen to be on your way,” Anthony said with a twinkle in his eye. “Even from a fair distance, I can spot your restlessness.”

“You are wrong, my friend. If you see restlessness, it is only because you are now married to the most beautiful woman I know, and I am envious and determined to find such a prize for myself.”

Amelia, the new Countess of Halford, laughed. “What a flattering rogue you are,” she said. “Actually, I believe a wife would do you a great deal of good.”She placed her hand on Lucas’s arm. “Oh, Lucas, how we will miss you.”

“I won’t,” Anthony said. “I have found someone with whom I would much rather spend my time. She does not lurk in my dressing room or hover about me constantly, fretting if I am well or ill.”

“I did not and do not hover,” Lucas said with mock indignation. “Or fret. Not much, anyway. Only a bit, on the rarest of occasions. Besides,” he continued once Anthony and Amelia ceased laughing at his humorous confession, “I am leaving my friend in competent hands, milady, and for thatI am grateful. I would hate to see all my good work go to ruin.” Anthonyhad been haunted by the specter of war, much more so than Lucas himself had been, and he had worried his friend may never recover. Lucas may havesaved Anthony’s life, but Amelia had done much to heal his soul.

“You make light of the situation, Lucas.” Amelia took both of Lucas’s hands in hers and looked him squarely in the eye. “In truth, I cannot imagine my life without Anthony, and I owe you a debt of gratitude I can never hope to repay.”

“Not at all, my dear,” Lucas replied gently.

“You must promise me, if there ever comes a time when either of us can be of service, you will let us know,” she said. “I would do anything in my power for you, and Anthony feels the same. Don’t you, Anthony?”

“It goes without saying, my love.”

Lucas raised one of her hands and kissed it. “I shall remember that, milady, and thank you.”

A guest who wished to congratulate the newly married couple interrupted them, which served to end the conversation. Lucas watched his friend a few minutes more, then discreetly left the banquet hall, trying to put the dread he felt at returning home out of his mind.

He returned to his room and dressed in clothing suited for travel, tucked a couple shirts and clean changes of linen into his saddlebag, and rang for a footman.

“Please have my horse readied and arrange for my trunk to be sent to the coaching inn at Stamford,” Lucas told the footman upon his arrival. Stamford was a two-day journey north of London and a half-day’s ride from Alderwood, the Jennings’ family estate in Lincolnshire. The innkeeper could arrange to have his trunk sent to Alderwood from the inn.

“Certainly, sir.” The footman hoisted the trunk onto his shoulder and excused himself.

Lucas had written his parents, informing them he would be arriving sometime within the week, unwilling even now to commit to a specific day. It was foolish to be so reluctant to return home. He loved his family and truly wanted to see them again—and yet he was also loath to do so. One would think he was going into battle. Devil take it, but he’d gone into more than one battle in Spain with more enthusiasm than he was currently feeling.

He eventually descended the staircase leading to the front hall, expecting to slip away unnoticed, having already said his goodbyes to Anthony and Amelia.

Before he could get away, Lady Ashworth, Anthony’s mother, hurried toward him. “Mr. Jennings! I have been waiting for you to come downstairs. I see that you are intending to leave us now, but it is nearly evening. You could just as easily stay the night and depart in the morning.”

“Thank you, but I am determined to begin my journey today, milady. I have friends awaiting me.” He always had a friend or two—old army associates—in any number of pubs and taverns in Town and who were willing to pull up a chair for him, so it wasn’t an outright lie. If he stayed, he’d only be tempted to find more reasons to delay his return home.

“At the very least, allow me to have Cook prepare some food for you to take with you.”

“You are kind to offer, but that won’t be necessary, I assure you.”

“I wish there were some way I could thank you more fully,” she said. “You have done so much for my Anthony and for Ashworth and me too, by extension. I cannot do enough to show my gratitude.”

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