The Lady Courts a Marquess (Ladies of Seduction #2)

Prologue

Lily & Grove Dress Shop, London, England

I t was a known fact that whenever Lady Harmsworth had a titillating piece of gossip to divulge, she had a tendency to flush. And that morning, as she marched through the front doors of Lily & Grove Dress Shop, her entire face was the approximate shade of an overripe tomato.

“You are never going to believe what I just learned!” she exclaimed, her bosom bouncing as she threw her arms into the air with great dramatic flair.

“If you’ve come to tell us about the Duke and Duchess of Southwick, we’ve already heard,” said Lady Farthing, muffling a yawn. “Their reconciliation is already old news.”

“I think it’s wonderful.” This from Lady Topple, the only spinster in the trio. Despite already being five and twenty, she still clung to the hope that her future husband was out there, somewhere. And he had a great affinity for cats. “True love won out in the end, as it is meant to.”

“Maybe for them ,” said Lady Harmsworth, arching a heavily plucked brow. “But what about the Earl and Countess of Radcliffe?”

Lady Farthing visibly perked as she stepped off the dais where she was being fitted for a new gown and shooed the seamstress away with a curt flick of her wrist. “Oh? What about them?”

“Do you mean the Duchess of Southwick’s sister?” asked Lady Topple, frowning.

It was public knowledge that, despite their meager social beginnings, Marabelle and Katherine Holden had gone on to make excellent matches when they’d married the Duke of Southwick and the Earl of Radcliffe, respectively. While rumors of turmoil had recently followed Marabelle, Katherine had thus far escaped all whispers of marital strife. Not an easy thing to do in the ton where affairs were more plentiful than Lady Topple’s cats.

Of course, there was the little matter of the tragedy that had occurred right before Lord and Lady Radcliffe were married... but no one talked about that. At least no one with any sense of self-preservation, for who would dare incur Lord Radcliffe’s wrath?

The earl was, in a word, terrifying.

Even speaking about him now, in the seclusion of the dress shop, made the fine hairs on Lady Topple’s nape stand on edge.

“Yes,” said Lady Harmsworth, nodding. “That’s precisely who I mean. I just heard from Lady Greene, who heard from Lady Henley, who heard from Lady Button—”

“Get on with it,” Lady Farthing snapped. As the mother of six unruly children, she’d lost her patience years ago. Occasionally it could be found in the bottom of a wine bottle, but she made a point of never drinking before noon. Except on Mondays. And Wednesdays. And some Saturdays. But this happened to be Tuesday, and that meant she had another three hours of sobriety to endure.

Lady Harmsworth pursed her lips. “Well, suffice it to say, I have it on excellent, firsthand authority—”

“Firsthand?” Lady Farthing said incredulously. “You just prattled off half the members of the Grosvenor Square Historical Society!”

“Agatha! Do you want to hear about the divorce or not?”

“Lord and Lady Radcliffe are petitioning for a divorce? ” Lady Topple gasped. “No. They can’t be.”

“Oh, but they can.” Lady Harmsworth couldn’t have looked more like the cat that had got the cream if she’d suddenly sprouted whiskers. “And according to Lady Greene, per Lady Henley, per Lady Buttonwood—”

“Shoot me now,” Lady Farthing groaned.

“—that is exactly what the Countess of Radcliffe intends to do.”

Lady Topple sank into the nearest chair and shook her head in disbelief. “I can hardly believe it. An affair, perhaps. Even a separation like the Duke and Duchess of Southwick had. But a divorce? It’s unheard of.”

“Parliament will never allow it,” said Lady Farthing.

“Lord Greer was granted a divorce last year, in addition to the right to remarry,” Lady Harmsworth pointed out. “Besides, I certainly wouldn’t want to be the one who tries to tell the Earl of Radcliffe what he can and cannot do. Especially after what he already did.”

“You shouldn’t speak of such things, Agatha!” said Lady Farthing.

Lady Topple nodded in mute agreement.

Lady Harmsworth rolled her eyes. “Why not? Everyone already knows . Just because it is not discussed openly doesn’t mean it didn’t happen. Personally, I don’t blame poor Lady Radcliffe for trying to escape him before it happens to her.”

“He wouldn’t dare do it again,” Lady Topple whispered, aghast. “Would he?”

“You know what they say,” Lady Harmsworth said with a shrug. “Once a murderer, always a murderer. He killed one woman and got away with it. What’s to stop him from killing another?”