Miss Nothing (Unexpected Heirs)

Chapter 11

Chapter Eleven

K eynsham edged through the glittering crowd. Every year, Lady Sophronia—the Dowager Viscountess Alford—stayed in town until she’d given her ball. After it was over and had been declared a success (and it always was), she retreated to Laversham Court, the family seat in Surrey, for a well-deserved rest in the countryside.

He was relieved to be back in his own world—and away from all the disturbing feelings that Miss Ryder had caused. She’d disrupted his peace of mind. And peace of mind, he reminded himself, was all that he really wished for in life.

A valet in the retiring room had worked determinedly, but there was only so much that a clothes brush could do. As Keynsham edged around knots of chattering people, talk stopped at the sight of his damaged jacket and bruised face. Whispers broke out as he passed.

Somehow he had to find Monty, and also do his best to avoid the worst of the ton gossips—and Mrs. Fairleigh, and, of course, Miss Fairleigh. And his own mother—who would be bound to make a scene if she saw him looking like this. It was deuced awkward.

“Keynsham.”

He stopped—feeling like a child caught on his way to steal sweets from the pantry—and turned to find Lady Cowles, his grandmother’s oldest friend, in a spectacular rose silk gown.

“What a lovely surprise. I understood that we were not to expect you tonight.” Her sharp gaze swept over his ruined jacket and came to rest on his bruised face. “You must have torn yourself away from more… interesting pursuits.”

He bowed. “How good it is to see you, Lady Cowles. I hope that you are well? I am merely here to speak with Lord Montfort on… er, an urgent private matter.”

Her eyes sparkled with mischief. “Of course you are.”

It was said that Lady Cowles knew every secret in London worth knowing. She was very rich and respectable now, but in her earliest years, in the more permissive preceding century, she’d been on the stage… which was how she’d attracted the attention of Lord Cowles.

“Your disreputable cousin is in the Yellow Saloon—playing cards, and disappointing all the young ladies who wish to dance with him.” She was smiling. “And certain other people are lingering in the dining room. If you hurry, you may avoid being seen by those people. That is… assuming that you wish to avoid being seen by them?” She arched an eyebrow.

He knew exactly what she was saying. “Much obliged.” He made her a bow. “I do hope that I will see you again later.”

“I feel certain that you will.”

He could feel her eyes following him as he strode down the hallway.

Monty was seated at a table with several older gentlemen who, like him, were hiding from the dancing.

“Odd’s teeth!” he exclaimed, taking in Keynsham’s appearance. “Why, you have not…?”

“Merely some fisticuffs at the edge of Whitechapel.”

“ Whitechapel …!” Monty’s eyebrows went up. “But….”

“I, er… was pickpocketed. I am afraid that I must ask to borrow back some of the money that I loaned you.”

It popped into his mind that the longer he left Miss Ryder on her own, the greater was the chance that she would get into trouble. How that was possible, he didn’t know. But suddenly he was worried that he would find out.

“Mm.” Monty looked thoughtful. “I should be delighted, of course. But the fact is that Sir John here rather has me on the ropes. He has beaten me at every hand these past two hours, and I am ashamed to find myself under the hatches.”

One of the older men tried unsuccessfully not to smirk.

“Ah. Indeed.” Keynsham wondered what would happen if he were to tell Sir John that Monty—who’d taught himself to count cards at the age of eleven—was only pretending to lose until he could induce his opponent to place a ruinous bet.

“But who knows? Perhaps my luck will change before the evening is out.”

Keynsham gave his cousin a hard stare. “Yes. Perhaps it will .”

Monty raised his eyebrows—the very picture of boyish innocence. “One can but hope.”

“Oh, I am quite certain that one can do much more than that.”

“Are we playing, or not?” asked Sir John.

“Why not ask your grandmother? Not you, Sir John, of course.”

Keynsham glowered down at Monty. “I shall take this up with you later.”