‘I have the feeling, Sir Barrington, that one is never entirely safe around you. You see a great deal without ever giving the appearance of actually looking. That makes you dangerous.’
‘Only to those with something to hide. The innocent have no reason to fear me.’ His eyes found hers and held them captive. ‘I trust you do not find me dangerous, Lady Annabelle?’
Author Note
It’s always a treat when an idea for a new story comes out of a book I haven’t even finished writing. And that’s exactly what happened with BRUSHED BY SCANDAL.
Lady Annabelle Durst and Sir Barrington Parker both made their debuts in COURTING MISS VALLOIS, and although they never met I knew they would be drawn to one another. After all, they were both intelligent, attractive people, who liked nothing better than to help others get out of or avoid potentially embarrassing or damaging situations.
But what if that potentially damaging situation happened to one of them? How would they feel about being investigated by the other person? Worse, could they ever bring themselves to love that other person if the crime they threatened to expose had the power to destroy everything they held most dear?
I hope you enjoy Barrington and Anna’s love story. I had great fun writing it.
About the Author
GAIL WHITIKER was born on the west coast of Wales and moved to Canada at an early age. Though she grew up reading everything from John Wyndham to Victoria Holt, frequent trips back to Wales inspired a fascination with castles and history, so it wasn’t surprising that her first published book would be set in Regency England. Now an award-winning author of both historical and contemporary novels, Gail lives on Vancouver Island, where she continues to indulge her fascination with the past, as well as enjoying travel, music, and spectacular scenery. Visit Gail at www.gailwhitiker.com
Previous novels by this author:
A MOST IMPROPER PROPOSAL*
THE GUARDIAN’S DILEMMA*
A SCANDALOUS COURTSHIP
A MOST UNSUITABLE BRIDE
A PROMISE TO RETURN
COURTING MISS VALLOIS
*part of The Steepwood Scandal mini-series
Brushed
by Scandal
Gail Whitiker
To Mum and Dad, who continue to be an ongoing source of love and support in so many areas of my life. Thank you for always being there.
And to my good friend Lynne Rattray, who inspires me with her joie de vivre and her unflagging sense of humour.
Chapter One
It was a perfect night for sin. The mid-May evening was deliciously warm, the air sweet with the fragrance of rosewater and violets, and the attention of one hundred and forty-nine of the guests moving slowly through the overheated rooms of Lord and Lady Montby’s palatial London house was focused on anything but the young lady slipping furtively through the French doors and onto the dimly lit balcony beyond.
Fortunately, as the attention of the one hundred and fiftieth guest had been fixed on that silly young woman for some time, the chances of her making a clean escape were never very good. Over the course of the evening, Lady Annabelle Durst had watched the exchange of smiles and glances passing between Miss Mercy Banks and a certain red-coated officer, and, given that the gentleman had recently left the room by the same doors through which Miss Banks now passed, Anna had no doubt that a clandestine rendezvous was planned. A rendezvous that could only end in disaster for one or both of them.
‘Mrs Wicks, would you please excuse me,’ Anna said quietly. ‘I’ve just seen someone I really must speak with.’
‘Why, of course, Lady Annabelle, and I do apologise for having taken up so much of your time, but I really didn’t know who else to turn to. Cynthia simply refuses to listen and I was at my wits’ end, wondering what to do next.’
‘I understand perfectly,’ Anna said, endeavouring to keep one eye on the French doors. ‘Cynthia has always been the most stubborn of your daughters and if you force her to spend a month in Scotland with her grandmother while her sisters are allowed to go to Bath, she will rebel. However, I believe the compromise I’ve suggested should help to alleviate the tension and make everyone feel better.’
‘I don’t mind saying it’s made me feel a great deal better,’ Mrs Wicks murmured. ‘You’re an uncommonly wise young woman for your age, Lady Annabelle. Your father must be very proud.’
Aware that her father would have been a great deal more proud had he been sending word of her upcoming engagement to The Times, Anna simply inclined her head and moved on. There was no point in telling Mrs Wicks that her unwed state was an ongoing source of consternation to her father or that he had offered to settle not only a handsome dowry, but one of his smaller, unentailed estates on her the moment she announced her engagement. Why bother when there was absolutely no one in her life for whom she felt even the slightest attraction?
As for being deemed a very wise young woman, Anna supposed it could have been worse. She might have been called studious or obliging—agreeable, even—none of which truly described her character. Yes, it was true, she had been dispensing an inordinate amount of advice to wilful young ladies and their frustrated mothers of late, but what was she to do when they kept coming to her for answers? Their problems were relatively easy to understand and comparatively simple to fix, even if the parties involved thought otherwise.
As to the hapless Miss Banks, that was clearly a situation Anna was going to have to deal with personally if she hoped to ward off imminent disaster.
The balcony, illuminated by multiple strands of brightly coloured lanterns strung from one end to the other, ran almost the entire length of the house, but one glance in either direction was enough to show Anna that her quarry had already vanished into the gardens. Foolish girl. Did she really believe that the gardens were empty? That no one else had sought privacy in the shadowy follies and Grecian temples sprinkled throughout the trees?
Obviously not or she wouldn’t have allowed herself to be led astray—and Anna had no doubt the girl had been led. Mercy Banks was as green as a leprechaun’s jacket. Barely seventeen, she was in London for her first Season, so it was only to be expected that, upon meeting a young man who looked at her as though she were Aphrodite reincarnated, she would mistake attraction for something deeper.
Anna had been seventeen once, too. She remembered all too well the excitement of looking up to find a handsome gentleman watching her; the exhilaration of his hand casually brushing hers when they drew close enough to converse, followed by the warmth of his breath as he leaned in close to whisper a compliment.
Oh, yes, she knew well the lure of those forbidden bowers. But because she had been prevented from making a mistake by someone who had noticed her infatuation and taken the time to intervene, Anna now recognised the importance in doing the same for others. Unfortunately, as she walked down the stone steps and into the garden proper, she realised she was not the only one intent on locating the wayward Miss Banks. Marching with grim resolve along the gravel path ahead of her was the young lady’s mother,