Shameless: Rules of Refinement Book Two (The Marriage Maker 6) Read online

  Ah, the viscount had heard that Valan’s old nemesis had returned to Edinburgh just today. Gossip traveled fast when Society smelled blood.

  Valan gave a bland smile. “Then I am fortunate not to have committed that crime.”

  “You tried hard enough,” Hesston declared.

  “Even I do not always succeed,” Valan remarked.

  “You succeeded at winning your fortune in a card game,” he snarled. “That is highly illegal.”

  “A friendly game of cards is never illegal,” Valan said, then added before he could reply, “The important point to remember, my dear viscount, is that runners give an ear to high-ranking peers.”

  The man’s face twisted into a scowl. “You think well of yourself.”

  Valan angled his head.” I am on excellent terms with Bow Street.”

  Hesston took a step back. “You pay them well, is what you mean.” He sneered at the girl. “A bit of muslin isn’t worth this much trouble.”

  “I am no bit of muslin,” the girl retorted.

  Hesston turned, stumbled past a group of men, then hurried away.

  Valan looked down at the young lady. “You cost me a great deal tonight.”

  Her brow furrowed. “The cost of that waistcoat is a pittance for a man like you.”

  He thought of the brown-haired beauty. “Money is not the only thing of worth in this world, child.”

  “I am no’ a child.”

  He arched a brow. “Pray tell, how old are you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “A nineteen-year-old girl who nearly got herself accosted by a rather nasty viscount.”

  “Release me.” She yanked the wrist he still gripped.

  He started when something pricked his wrist. Valan drew her hand upward. She yanked harder and nearby guests glanced their way. Valan offered them a chilly smile, then urged the girl back three paces nearer the alcove.

  “I beg your pardon,” she began, then broke off when he tightened his grip.

  He turned her hand over and forced her fingers apart. A modest diamond stick pin balanced halfway across her palm.

  Valan looked at her and raised a questioning brow. “That is a gentleman’s pin, if I am not mistaken.”

  Her mouth thinned in a mutinous line.

  “Shall I call Viscount Hesston back and ask if he has lost a diamond pin?” he asked.

  Her mouth parted in a small gasp. “Nae. D-do not do that. Please.”

  Valan released her. “I assume, then, the good viscount did not give this to you as a token of his, er, undying love?”

  “Undying love?” she scoffed. “That man loves only himself.”

  He repressed a smile. “Forgive me, but I am curious as to how you came to be in possession of his pin. It’s unlikely he removed it in order to disrobe. Removal of his cravat would not be necessary to—”

  “He did not give it to me,” she cut in.

  “Then you slipped it from his cravat when he kissed you?”

  She lifted her chin. “Ladies do not allow strange men to kiss them.”

  “How wonderful to know you recognize some conduct befitting a lady. I suggest you remember that when next a man asks you to accompany him to an alcove.”

  She dropped her gaze. Ah, he had her. She slanted a look up at him through her lashes and it was easy to see why she had captured Hesston’s attention. Her innocence was a lure few men could resist. She extended a hand toward him and stepped forward. Then tripped. She cried out and collided with him. His lapel tugged downward when she grabbed him and Valan caught her.

  He set her at arm’s length. “That is the second time this evening you have landed in my arms.” He tugged his cravat back into place, then felt the knot in an effort to assess the damage. “Perhaps we should be formally introduced before a third encounter?” Valan paused, then felt along the length of the cravat. His pin— He lowered his hands to his sides and leveled an assessing gaze on her. “My pin, please.”

  Her eyes sparkled as she opened her left hand. His ruby pin lay on her palm.

  Valan took the pin. “It is not often I am shocked, but you have managed to shock me.”

  The laughter in her eyes vanished and her back went ramrod straight. “A gentleman would give me a head start.”

  He paused while slipping both pins into the front pocket of his coat. “A head start?”

  “Before you call Bow Street.”

  A corner of his mouth twitched again, harder. He removed his hand from his pocket. “You are safe, my child. I do not put Bow Street on the scent of young ladies.”

  She studied him as if uncertain, then her expression cleared and she flashed a brilliant smile. “You are kind—despite the austere face.” Before he could reply, she added, “Admit it, once you discovered the pin missing, you would have assumed you lost it by accident and would no’ have suspected me—just as that evil viscount will not.”

  “Fortune favors you on that score,” Valan said. “Hesston would not hesitate to have you arrested—if, that is, you failed to comply with his demands.”

  She frowned. “Demands? Oh, you mean, he would make me his mistress.”

  “Nothing so elevated as that, but never mind. Dare I ask how you came to have this, er, talent?”

  She shrugged, but a steel determination underlay the nonchalance. “A woman develops skills necessary to survive.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “Women are very adept at surviving. I take it, then, you need the money.”

  She frowned. “I do not steal for money. Well, not for myself. By-the-by, please return my pin.”

  He lifted a brow. “Your pin?”

  “It certainly isn’t yours,” she said.

  “Neither is it yours,” he said.

  “Finders keepers.”

  “Is that what you call your talent, ‘finding’?”

  She scowled. “You do not need it.”

  “My dear, if you pawn this pin, you will surely find yourself hunted by Bow Street. Unless—tell me, have you already a relationship with a pawn broker?”

  She gave him a haughty stare. “I do not.”

  “Then we shall not begin now.”

  She shook her head. “Everyone thinks they know what is best for me. I don’t not want—”

  Valan grimaced. “Pray, say no more. Surely, Miss Peddington taught you not to use double negatives in a sentence.”

  She dropped her gaze. “Aye, she did.”

  “Will you throw away every penny your father spent to send you here by speaking like a common fishwife?”

  “M-my mother sent me here.”

  Valan regarded her. “Do you only stutter when you’re afraid?”

  Her cheeks reddened even as her chin lifted. “I cannot help it. If you don’t like it—” her cheeks pinked more “—then you are no gentleman.”

  “Your judgment of what constitutes a gentleman is sorely misguided.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he lifted a hand, palm out. “Please, we will save that discussion for another time. I happen to agree. You cannot help the stutter. You can, however, choose the words you speak. I suggest you make a habit of choosing them more carefully.”

  Valan recognized the tall man who approached. “Wedded bliss losing its luster so soon?” Valan asked when Sir Stirling James reached them.

  Stirling grinned. “Not at all.” He looked pointedly at the young lady.

  “I cannot make introductions,” Valan said. “I don’t know the young lady’s name.”

  “Then allow me.” Stirling bowed. “Miss Jeanine Matheson, I am Sir Stirling James, and this is his Lordship, the Marquess of Northington.”

  She extended her hand and Valan bowed over it. “A marquess?” she said. “You did not tell me you were a peer.”

  “You did not ask,” he said, then looked at Stirling. “Do you know all the young ladies? Never say you come here often.”

  Stirling shook his head. “I saw ye two together. Lady Peddington told me who she was.”

  “A
h,” Valan intoned. “It is Lady Peddington you came to visit.”

  “Honoria and I are old friends,” Stirling said. “Not that kind of old friends,” he added when Valan started to reply. “But if we were, the past is the past.”

  Valan angled his head. “As you say.”

  “You knew Lady Peddington before she started the school?” Miss Matheson asked.

  Stirling smiled. “Indeed, I did.”

  “I want to have a school like this someday,” she said.

  “Good God, why?” Valan asked.

  “To be an independent woman. Lady Peddington says a lady will do best if she finds a nice gentleman to care for her. But that is not what she did. She started the school. She makes her own money and spends it any way she pleases.”

  “Much responsibility comes with running a business,” Valan said.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Running a gentleman’s household is just as big a responsibility.”

  “When a lady has a gentleman to look after her, she has someone to care for her should something go wrong,” he said.

  She frowned. “I have known too many ladies whose husbands do not take care of them.”

  “She has you there, Northington,” Stirling said.

  “That she does,” Valan said. “On that note, I shall say goodnight.”

  “Leaving so early?” Stirling asked.

  “Aye. The hunt is finished for tonight.” He looked at the young lady. “Good evening, Miss Matheson.”

  She took a step toward him. “Must you go?”

  He flashed a bland smile. “Old gentlemen need their rest.”

  She grimaced. “You are not old.”

  “Old enough.”

  “The choice of gentlemen to dance with has dwindled,” she said. “I thought perhaps…”

  “Perhaps his lordship will dance with you.” He nodded at Stirling.

  She frowned at Stirling. “Lordship? You introduced yourself as Sir Stirling James.”

  “He is both,” Valan said. “The marquess suffers an unnatural modesty. He seldom admits his title.”

  “The title is a courtesy, and hardly signifies,” Stirling said.

  Valan glimpsed Hesston talking with Lady Peddington near the far right wall, not far from a cluster of ladies. Valan returned his attention to Miss Matheson. “The marquess is probably the only gentleman present. If, that is, he’s still a gentleman.”

  Stirling chuckled. “You would have to ask Chastity.”

  “Chastity?” she asked.

  “His wife,” Valan said.

  “You’re married?” The young lady wrinkled her nose. “Then it will not do for me to dance with you.”

  “You are refreshingly forthright,” Stirling said.

  “She is naïve,” Valan said. “A married man has his uses.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you married?”

  “Nae, and I have no wish to be. Goodnight, Miss Matheson. Sir Stirling.” He bowed and left.

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  The other Marriage Maker Rules of Refinement books

  One Good Gentleman

  A Marriage of Necessity

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