Page 8 of The Scoundrel and the Lady

“Lady Iris Bennington.”

Lucy’s eyes brightened. The girl still held out hope that Merritt would fall in love with some pretty woman and bring her home as his bride. He’d long since given up. He had never been one for romantic fantasies. Even if he had been, inheriting the title would have disillusioned him. Before he had been elevated to the peerage, his marriage prospects had been minimal. He had the money but not the connections to attract attention from women. The instantaneous change that had made him an earl would have been funny if it hadn’t been so disheartening. He had gone from barely worth noticing to one of London’s most desirable bachelors overnight.

It was hard to believe in true love after witnessing that spontaneous change of heart. He felt no obligation to provide an heir for this title. The previous earl certainly hadn’t done as much, else Merritt wouldn’t be stuck here.

“And yes, I danced with her,” he said suddenly. Then he wondered why he’d divulged that detail, so he added, “We had business to discuss.”

Lucy clapped her hands together. “Which dance?”

“The waltz.”

“How romantic.”

Yes, romance. He suspected that was the true reason Lucy wanted to make a debut. She wanted to fall in love. She wanted him to fall in love, too. She’d told him as much on more than one occasion. He’d never told her he didn’t believe in love; he couldn’t bear to break her heart that way. There had been a time he had fancied himself in love with a girl, but then he’d realized it had all been a delusion. It was a lesson Lucy would have to learn on her own.

“I wish I could have attended,” she said.

“And you shall. In time. I need to find you a tutor first,” he said. “Or we could forget all of this Society debut nonsense, and you can buy all the pretty dresses you desire.”

“Merritt, we have discussed this. I know you are worried about me, but I shall survive. I merely want to experience what it is like—the balls, the dancing, the clothes. Only a few parties, and then I shall marry anyone of your choosing.”

“You know I am not hoping you have a bad experience,” he said.

“Yes. But you believe it is inevitable because of the nature of those people. But we are ‘those people’ now, whether they like it or not.” She smiled broadly.

His sister had courage and such a bright light about her. He hated to see that dimmed by the hateful comments that would no doubt be made about an outsider, even if she was the sister of an earl. “Very well, if you are so intent on entering Society, I shall make the arrangements. You must be patient.”

“Yes, I know,” she said. “It is hard to wait, though.”

He needed a lady to take his sister under her wing and teach her how to survive and hopefully thrive among London’s elite. They had not been raised in Society. It was easier for him—always was for men. Any misbehavior was chalked up to rakish ways. But any wrong move could tarnish a lady forever. Lucy was naive and eager, not necessarily a good combination for the aristocracy. As she was now, they’d eat her alive.

No, he needed someone to teach her how to…finagle an introduction to a gentleman and persuade him to dance with her. He’d already had one tutor scheduled who had accepted a better offer and backed out of their agreement. The problem was he knew too much about most of the people in this town, at least the ones who could provide Lucy with the sort of welcome she required.

He supposed he could persuade someone to do his bidding simply by letting them know precisely how much he knew about them. But blackmail had never been his forte.

There had to be some legitimate lady who could tutor his sister in all things Society while offering her a modicum of protection from the cruelty he knew lurked in every corner. He needed only find her, whoever she was.

His sister awkwardly hid a yawn behind a hand then tried to shake it off.

“Lucy, we can discuss more tomorrow. Right now, we both need sleep.”

…

The following afternoon, Iris glanced at her cards then eyed her opponents. It was a tradition that she and her two closest friends, Harriet and Agnes, play a few hands directly following their weekly meetings of the Ladies of Virtue. Normally a couple of the other girls would join them, but today, it was only the three of them sitting in Agnes’s parlor.

In truth, though, Iris’s mind was not on the game, nor had it truly been on the meeting, despite garnering accolades from Lady Somersby for her handling of the thief two days before. Instead, her thoughts were consumed with Jasper.

“What has you so distracted today, Iris?” Agnes asked.

“My conversation with Lord Ashby last night.” She shook her head. “I simply don’t see how he can be so irresponsible.” Iris exhaled slowly. “Jasper’s behavior has become increasingly disappointing since his return to London. I realize that gentlemen sometimes favor a more reckless lifestyle, but this is not the life I want for Jasper. I want him to be a respectable gentleman, to find a wife and have children and be a loving, caring man, as our father was. That is how I raised him.”

Her friends nodded in unison.

“Of course you do,” Harriet said.

“But he is not listening to me. He is listening to Lord Ashby.”

“Iris, you have dedicated your life to Jasper. He is a man now,” Agnes said. “Don’t you think it’s time you concentrate on yourself for a while?” She paused a moment. “What of that book you said you wanted to write?”

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