Accidental Peers 03 - Compromising Willa Read online

  Other books by Diana Quincy

  SEDUCING CHARLOTTE

  TEMPTING BELLA

  COMPROMISING

  WILLA

  THE ACCIDENTAL PEERS SERIES

  DIANA QUINCY

  This book is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents are the product of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. Any resemblance to actual events, locales, or persons, living or dead, is coincidental.

  Copyright © 2013 by Dora Mekoaur. All rights reserved, including the right to reproduce, distribute, or transmit in any form or by any means. For information regarding subsidiary rights, please contact the Publisher.

  Entangled Publishing, LLC

  2614 South Timberline Road

  Suite 109

  Fort Collins, CO 80525

  Visit our website at www.entangledpublishing.com.

  Edited by Kate Fall and Alethea Spiridon Hopson Cover design by Heidi Stryker

  Manufactured in the United States of America

  Ebook ISBN 978-1-62266-414-0

  First Edition December 2013

  Table of Contents

  Chapter One

  Chapter Two

  Chapter Three

  Chapter Four

  Chapter Five

  Chapter Six

  Chapter Seven

  Chapter Eight

  Chapter Nine

  Chapter Ten

  Chapter Eleven

  Chapter Twelve

  Chapter Thirteen

  Chapter Fourteen

  Chapter Fifteen

  Acknowledgments

  To Megann

  For being the first person to talk about my characters as though they were real people, and for her fierce devotion to these characters in particular.

  Chapter One

  Augustus Manning sat by the sickbed, waiting for his father to die. The air was humid with the rancid scents of illness and impending death. Closed velvet curtains rebuffed the afternoon light, cloaking the chamber in long shadows. Sunshine had no business in this lifeless place.

  The Earl of Bellingham’s labored breathing punctured the silence. He sucked in gasping breaths, as though determined to fight off the inevitable for as long as possible. Stubborn to the end. Augustus suppressed an impatient sigh. How much longer would the old man hold on?

  He’d waited four interminable years for the bastard’s heart to give out. Silence rang through the chamber, and it took him a moment to realize the gasping sounds had ceased. Anticipation stirred in his chest as the doctor leaned over the frail form on the bed before straightening and bowing to Augustus, murmuring words of sympathy.

  Suppressing a delighted smile, Augustus rose and drew back his shoulders, his chest expanding to fill the role to which he’d been born. He strode from the chamber, passing his younger brother, who dragged heavy hands down his ashen face, and his father’s faithful valet, who bowed with deference to the new Earl of Bellingham.

  The staff, who watched him hurry to the stables before rearing off on his thoroughbred, likely thought pain and anguish drove the dead man’s eldest son. But in truth, sheer exhilaration—bright and joyous—broke free inside of him. He would finally have it all: the money, the title, and the lady who inhabited his dreams. The new Earl of Bellingham finally meant to claim what was his.

  And nothing and no one was going to stop him.

  …

  Swallowing her nerves, Lady Wilhelmina Stanhope stood to the side of the crowded assembly room and hoped no one took notice of her. Unfortunately, it didn’t appear to be working.

  Her new friend, Lady Florinda Bromley, threaded through the throng to Willa’s side. “You have an admirer. Viscount Mowbry said you are a diamond of the first whose loveliness easily outshines everyone else present this evening.”

  Willa had already noted Mowbry’s interest. The viscount, elegant in evening finery, stood next to a slight fellow in bright colors, sliding an aloof gaze over her with obvious appreciation. She pretended not to notice the polite inspection, comprehending full well that nothing would come of it. At three-and-twenty, she’d never had a proper marriage offer. Except for that one time four years ago. If one could credit that debacle. “Nonsense, Flor, he could be looking at anyone.”

  “No, I have excellent hearing. He was discussing you with that fop standing next to him.” Flor, a slight girl with red curly hair, pushed her spectacles up the bridge of her nose with her pointer finger. “After all, who else present is in possession of chocolate-colored curls of silk and skin like a fine cream?”

  “He said that?”

  Flor nodded, her green eyes sparkling with wicked humor. “He’s not exactly Byron, is he? And I heard him utter the most scandalous thing.”

  Her stomach lurched. “Scandalous?” She’d had enough scandal to last her a lifetime.

  “He said something about large velvet brown eyes and a sumptuous form that made a man think of things he shouldn’t when looking at a lady.” Amusement lined her forehead. “It would all be enormously flattering if only the viscount weren’t a buffoon with nothing but air between his ears.”

  “Florinda!” Willa couldn’t help but smile at the girl’s audacity. They’d become fast friends this season—her new cohort’s blunt nature being one of the qualities she admired most. It helped that the earl’s daughter knew everything there was to know about Town, unlike Willa, whose parents had always preferred country living.

  “Look, he’s coming towards us.” Flor’s skeptical gaze followed the viscount. “I’d wager he’ll ask someone for an introduction.”

  Apprehension rolled in her stomach. She darted a look at the gentleman, who did indeed appear to be heading in their direction. He was waylaid by his companion, a well-known dandy and gossip, who put a staying hand on his lordship’s arm and murmured something into his ear. The viscount’s eyebrows inched up a little at a time as he listened, then his gaze darted back to Willa. Only this time, the bold appraisal lacked any pretense of courtesy, wandering over her curves with insolent scrutiny, as though he could see straight through her gown.

  “The blackguard!” Flor inhaled a shocked breath. “Did you see the discourteous manner in which he regarded you?”

  Willa’s gut twisted. The way he’d looked at her made her feel like a strumpet. It intensified the uneasy feeling which had lingered all evening. The curious glances from some guests, the whispers when she passed one group of matrons. Clearly, rumors of her ruination still circulated. One would think there’d be a new scandal for the ton to focus on by now.

  Ignoring her discomfort, she slipped her arm through Flor’s. “Come now. I, for one, intend to enjoy this evening. It is my first Season in years.”

  She surveyed the dancing couples and groups of people sitting or standing at the edges of the hall against crimson wallpaper and carved flattened columns which glimmered under immense two-tiered chandeliers. The chattering crowd grew louder and the air more still with each new arrival. Her sister Addie’s come-out ball was proving a great success. There was even talk the Regent himself might make an appearance.

  It had been an age since she’d circulated among these people. At first, the threat of scandal had kept her family away after Willa’s first and only season. Then her father had fallen ill, lingering for months before succumbing, which led to another year of mourning and seclusion in the country.

  “Willa,” Flor said as they made their way to the refreshment table. “Perhaps I shouldn’t mention this but—”

  “Come now, you’ve never held your tongue before.” She squeezed her friend’s arm. “Surely you don’t mean to start now. I would be sorely disappointed if you did.”


  Flor gave a grim smile of acknowledgement. “I don’t want to upset you, but you shouldn’t be taken by surprise.”

  “Out with it then.”

  “Augustus Manning is here.”

  “Augustus?” A sharp pain knifed through her. She’d confided a bit about Augustus to her new friend. Not all of it, of course. She’d never tell anyone the entire truth. “How do you know?”

  “I saw him with my own eyes just a few minutes ago. He was heading to the cards room.”

  “How is that possible? He did not receive an invitation.” She darted a look toward the chamber in question, scanning the crowd for the man she had expected to spend a lifetime with, who had instead became the source of her greatest humiliation. “Are you certain it was he?”

  Flor nodded, sighing with obvious appreciation. “It is difficult to mistake a gentleman with looks as fine as that.”

  Her throat felt as though someone had lodged their fist in it. “I suppose it had to happen at some point.”

  Sympathy lit Flor’s eyes. “Come now, forget about that fribble. Let us walk and dazzle everyone with our superior beauty and charm.”

  “I seem to have torn my gown during the last set,” she lied, eager for escape. “I must have it attended to.”

  Once free of her friend, she headed to the terrace. To her relief, the long, narrow structure appeared mostly empty. She took a moment to enjoy her reprieve in the quiet coolness of the darkened veranda. Breathing in the clear night air, she tilted her face upward to feel the soft spring breeze brush across her skin.

  Augustus. She understood now that it hadn’t been a love match, but they had been friends once. Or so she’d thought. The memories flooded back. The two of them, along with his brother and her sister, had spent countless easy summer days as children exploring the grounds surrounding their adjoining estates. And then the inn had happened.

  “I see the years have only added to the lady’s beauty.”

  A chill shot up her back as the smooth timbre of Augustus’ voice washed over her. Forcing her leaden legs to move, she turned to face him, the dark specter from her past silhouetted by the brilliance of the ballroom behind him.

  He’d always been handsome, and the passage of years had ripened that boyish promise into true masculine beauty. Augustus carried his impressive height and long limbs with a lanky, almost careless elegance that spoke of prominent birth and a sense of entitlement. Perfectly ruffled golden hair highlighted a strong jaw that belied the weak man Willa now knew him to be.

  “Augustus.”

  “I see you remain the loveliest rose in all England.”

  It was a lie of course. She was no great beauty. Her eyes were too big, her lips so large they were almost vulgar, and her figure far more womanly than the preferred current style.

  “I heard of your father’s passing,” he said. “My sincerest condolences, my dearest Willa.” He used her nickname casually, as though they still belonged to each other.

  “Why are you here? You were not invited.”

  “An unintended oversight, I’m sure. No matter. For a bit of coin, invitations can be easily redirected.”

  “You shouldn’t have come.”

  He frowned over the bridge of a nose so straight and symmetrical even Michelangelo would have marveled over it. “Come, Willa, ‘tis me, Augustus. What is with such coldness for an admirer who desires nothing more than the precious gift of a lady’s smile?”

  A kernel of anger stirred inside her. She might appear to be the same naïve girl on the outside, but Willa viewed life through different eyes now, knowing it could change in an instant. She’d learned firsthand, after the disaster with Augustus and then her father’s death. The young girl who had challenged Augustus to race their horses through the countryside, her untamed hair flying—jesting with him on the rare occasion that she actually beat him—had vanished. Those summers, and the world of innocent possibility that came with them, seemed like a lifetime ago. “There was a time you asked for far more than a mere smile.”

  “Let’s not dwell on the past,” he said. “Not when we have the brightest of futures to look forward to.”

  “A future?”

  “Of course, with the depth of feeling that you and I can only find in each other.”

  Her throat constricted. “The time for any sort of romantic foolishness has passed.” She turned away and rested her gloved hands on the cold stone balustrade, the chill stealing up her arms and rippling through her insides. “Surely, you recognize the realities of the world. You certainly assured that I did.”

  “Balderdash.” He moved beside her, close enough for his perfume to fill her nostrils with the smell of rosemary, almonds, and old memories that were best forgotten. “I have come to take you to wife. Nothing stands between us now.”

  Her heart took a slight leap. Perhaps she’d been wrong about him. Maybe his regard for her would prove strong enough after all. “The earl has agreed to this?” she ventured, feeling the tiniest sprig of hope. “Or have you decided to proceed without your father’s consent?”

  He laughed, but it was a mirthless sound. “It is what the Earl of Bellingham desires above all else.”

  “I don’t understand.” The old earl had always been firmly opposed to any match between them. He’d been in search of a larger dowry, but Augustus had convinced her they could overcome his objections. Foolishly—disastrously—she’d believed him. “How could this be?”

  “My father is dead. Not three days in the ground, and I have come for you because I couldn’t bear to wait one moment longer for us to be together.” He resumed his smiling demeanor, yet no warmth emanated from him. “Once an appropriate mourning period is past, we shall become betrothed, just as we should have in earnest four years ago.”

  It took her a moment to comprehend his words. His father dead. After all these years, nothing stood between them. She paused, waiting for a warm surge of joy now that they could finally be together. But there was…nothing. The only warmth she felt came from the anger kindling in her chest.

  “I see.” Comprehension sank in. “Do you dare delude yourself into thinking I would accept you now? After the humiliation you inflicted upon me, sir?”

  She stilled at the sound of laughter from a couple approaching from the far side of the terrace. She drew back into the shadows, away from Augustus. She had no desire to be seen alone with him and risk resurrecting the old rumors. “Please, take your leave of me. I am not so foolish as to repeat the follies of my past.”

  He stepped closer. “You are even lovelier in your anger.” A satisfied smile crossed his face. “It appears you have grown up, my wild Willa.”

  “Indeed. I am a great deal wiser than the foolish girl you knew.”

  “And a great deal more beautiful.” He looked at her from under heavy eyelids. “I dare say the secret pleasures of marriage will be even more enjoyable than I’ve anticipated all these years.”

  Her stomach revolted at the thought of resuming any kind of intimacy with this man. “I shall never marry.”

  “Now, now. That will never do. Surely you comprehend that a female who displeases God by refusing to take a husband and procreate is consigned to lead the apes into hell.”

  “I would much prefer to guide the monkeys into Hades rather than become your wife.”

  “You, an ape leader? Such loveliness would be wasted on the shelf.” Cool eyes skated over the curves of her body. “I would enjoy pressing the issue, but it won’t do for my future countess to be tainted by further scandal.”

  She gritted her teeth. “I will never marry. Not you nor anyone else.”

  “Nonsense.” He drew back and executed a quick bow. “We are meant to be together. No one else shall ever have you.” Spinning on his heels, he marched into the ballroom.

  She squelched the urge to fling something hard and heavy at the earl’s retreating back. Furious thoughts crowded her head. How had she ever borne such a disagreeable man? To have contemplated
a life with him?

  Only a foolish young girl would have considered it. Her own come-out Season years ago had met with great success, but she’d only had eyes for Augustus, who’d pressed his suit despite his father’s vehement disapproval. It shamed her to wonder whether his undeniable good looks had swayed her judgment of his character, even after he’d begun to change from the solemn boy she’d befriended into the intolerable man he was now.

  A sudden movement at the bottom of the terrace steps cut into her thoughts. The gravel crunched and then went silent.

  Someone was down there.

  Chapter Two

  Willa peered down into the shadows where the light of a garden torch illuminated a masculine face etched in hard lines. He leaned into the flame, giving the unlit cheroot in his mouth a few quick inhales, cajoling it to take. When it sparked and smoked, the man leaned back with a satisfied air, taking a deep inhale.

  He was likely a footman staying out of view while taking a break from his duties. Disconcerted, she called out in a chastising tone. “You there, what do you mean by hiding in the shadows listening to private discourse?”

  “That was quite a scene,” the shadow drawled. “I look forward with great anticipation to seeing how this charming love story concludes.” Tall and darkly clothed, his bearing was not that of a servant, but someone of breeding would never smoke in front of a lady.

  “You are very insolent,” she said heatedly, “to speak to me in such a manner.”

  He regarded her with amused curiosity. “A thousand pardons, ma’am.”

  She moved down the stairs to get a better look at him. Closer inspection revealed he wore formal evening attire topped with a snowy cravat. Not a servant then. He took a deep drag and exhaled. Lazy circles of silvery smoke melted into nothingness around the glow of the flame, steeping the air with the pungent aroma of burning tobacco.

  “Forgive me if I have transgressed.” He stepped away from the torch, the glowing tip of the cheroot dancing in the dark as he moved. “However, in my defense, I was here previous to your romantic assignation on the terrace.”