of the Marchioness of Yew’s infidelity, he’d learned that his good friend was finally in honest pursuit of the lady’s very respectable and exceedingly lovely nineteen-year-old daughter, Rebecca.
‘Sexual conquests aside, dare I hope you’ve come with news about the identity of Lady Yew’s alleged lover?’ Barrington enquired.
‘Nothing alleged about it.’ Crew strolled towards the desk and picked up a glass in his long, slender fingers. ‘I happened to be in the lady’s house on the occasion of the young man’s last visit and saw them acting very lover-like towards one another.’
‘How convenient. Were you there in hopes of seeing the lovely Lady Rebecca or to question the mother?’
‘Most definitely the former.’ Crew raised the glass to his nose and sniffed appreciatively. ‘Unlike our young Romeo, I have no interest in romancing ladies over the age of thirty. The bloom has long since gone from that rose.’
‘But with maturity comes experience,’ Barrington said, reaching for his own glass. ‘A gently reared miss of nineteen will know nothing of that.’
‘Fortunately, I am more than willing to teach her all she needs to know.’ Crew swallowed a mouthful of brandy, pausing a moment to savour its flavour before sinking into a chair and resting his booted feet on the edge of the desk. ‘However, returning to the matter at hand, the gentleman in question is not our typical Lothario. I’ve never heard his name mentioned in association with lady or ladybird; in truth, I’d never heard of him until his arrival in London just over a month ago. So the fact he has chosen to dally with a marquess’s wife is somewhat unusual.’
‘Are you sure they are lovers?’
Crew shrugged. ‘Lady Rebecca confided her belief that they are. She told me she’s seen the gentleman enter her mother’s private quarters on more than one occasion, and, as I was leaving, I saw them myself going upstairs together hand in hand.’
‘Damning evidence indeed,’ Barrington said. ‘And reckless behaviour for a man newly arrived in London. Does he suffer from a case of misplaced affection or unbridled lust?’
‘Knowing the marchioness, I suspect the latter,’ Crew said in a dry voice. ‘It’s well known she favours younger men because her husband is a crusty old stick twenty-five years older than she is.’
‘Still, she has charmed a legion of men both younger and older than herself, and, up to this point, her husband has always been willing to turn a blind eye,’ Barrington said. ‘For whatever reason, he is not inclined to do so this time.’
Crew shrugged. ‘Perhaps he fears a genuine attachment. It’s all very well for a woman to take a lover to her bed, but it is extremely bad taste to fall in love with him. People have been known to do abysmally stupid things in the name of love.’
‘Too true. So, who is the poor boy Lord Yew is going to flay?’
‘His full name is Peregrine Tipton Rand.’
‘Good Lord. Peregrine Tipton?’
‘A trifle whimsical, I admit, but he’s a country lad visiting London for the first time. Apparently, his father owns a farm in Devon. Rand’s the oldest of four brothers and sisters but he hasn’t shown much interest in taking over from his father. Seems he’s more interested in books than in bovines, so when the mother died, the father shipped him up here to stay with his godfather in the hopes of the boy acquiring some town polish. Unfortunately, all he acquired was an affection for Lady Yew.’
Barrington frowned. ‘How did a country boy come to be introduced to a marchioness?’
‘Through the auspices of Lord Hayle, Viscount Hayle.’
‘Hayle?’ Barrington’s eyebrows rose in surprise. The beautiful Lady Annabelle’s brother? ‘I wouldn’t have thought the Earl of Cambermere’s heir the type to associate with a country gentleman of no consequence.’
‘I dare say you’re right, but as it happens, he has no choice.
Rand is staying with the family. Cambermere is the man reputed to be his godfather.’
‘Reputed?’
‘There are those who say the lad bears a stronger resemblance to the earl than might be expected.’
‘Ah, I see.’ Barrington rapped his fingers on the desk. ‘Wrong side of the blanket.’
‘Possible, though no one’s come right out and said it.’
‘Of course not. Cambermere’s a powerful man. If he did father an illegitimate child years ago and now chooses to have the boy come live with him, no one’s going to tell him he can’t. Especially given that his own wife died last year.’
‘But there are other children living in the house,’ Crew pointed out. ‘Legitimate children who won’t take kindly to their father foisting one of his by-blows on them.’
Especially the son and heir, Barrington reflected grimly. Viscount Hayle was not the kind of man to suffer such a slight to his family name. If he came to suspect the true nature of Rand’s paternity, he could make things very difficult for all concerned. So difficult, in fact, that Rand might hightail it back to the country, and that was something Barrington had to avoid. He needed to find out as much as possible about the young man before news of his liaison with Lady Yew went public—because there was no doubt in Barrington’s mind that it would. The marchioness wasn’t known for being discreet. Her list of lovers was a popular topic of conversation at parties, and the fact that this time, her husband had chosen to make an example of the young man would definitely make for scintillating conversation over wine and cards.
‘You’ve gone quiet,’ Crew said. ‘Mulling over how best to break the news to dear Peregrine’s unsuspecting family?’
‘As a matter of fact, I was.’ Barrington got to his feet and walked slowly towards the long window. ‘I met Lady Annabelle Durst at Lady Montby’s reception the other week.’
‘Ah, the beautiful Anna,’ Crew murmured appreciatively. ‘Truly one of society’s diamonds. I cannot imagine why she’s still single.’
Barrington snorted. ‘Likely because she’s too busy trying to prevent silly young women from ruining themselves.’
‘An admirable undertaking, though knowing how many silly young women there are in London, I don’t imagine it leaves much time for looking after her own future.’
‘Virtually none,’ Barrington said, his thoughts returning to the lady whose existence he had first learned about during an investigation he’d undertaken the previous year. It had not involved Lady Annabelle directly, but had focused instead on the uncle of one of the girls she had been trying to help. As a result of that investigation, however, Barrington had become familiar with her name and with her propensity for helping naïve young girls navigate their way through the choppy waters of first love.
Always from a distance, of course. Given his own self-imposed boundaries, Barrington knew better than to risk getting too close to her, but he was strongly aware of her appeal and smart enough to know that she could be dangerous for that reason alone. He’d met a lot of women in his life, but there was something about Lady Annabelle Durst
