To Tempt a Scandalous Lord by Liana De la Rosa

Chapter Twelve

The following morning, Niall found himself on a ridiculously narrow chair between a pair of sisters, Miss Eunice and Miss Edith. The girls had grabbed his hands as soon as he’d stepped into the parlor at Little Windmill House, bright smiles on their pixie faces, and demanded he sit with them.

Niall could never say no. They had been residents of the home since Edith had been an infant, so they had grown up within the walls of Little Windmill. He was as fond of them as they were of him, clinging to his side whenever he came to visit.

Niall suspected it was because they knew he had the final say on the hard decisions at the foundling home, so they stuck close to him as a form of protection. It was a move he could understand. Life was hard, but it was especially hard for children orphaned at a tender age. If squeezing himself between two wiggly, but appreciative young girls made them feel safe, Niall would grin and bear it happily. No matter how uncomfortable the child-sized chair.

“I should have played Rosalind,” Miss Eunice whispered to him, her mouth twisted in indignation. “I already know half the lines.”

Niall looked over to where twelve-year-old Molly was pretending to fall in love with Orlando. The girl was playing the role admirably, but he knew better than to share this observation with Eunice.

“I wager if they had done A Midsummer Night’s Dream, you would have been selected as Hermia,” he offered.

The girl wrinkled her nose. “I would have wanted to play Helena.”

Smothering a snort, Niall nodded. “And you would have made an excellent Helena. I’m sure you’re a versatile actress.”

Eunice nodded pertly, crossing her ankles and leaning back with an air of satisfaction.

As the play progressed, he tried his best to attend to the action on the makeshift stage. The children had outdone themselves with the costumes and stage backdrops, and their enthusiasm to perform was contagious.

However, his upcoming meeting with Lord Matthews weighed heavy on his shoulders. The man was displeased with how Niall’s bid had been progressing, his sudden wedding a key point of contention. And though Niall had argued with the viscount over every issue under the sun since their first acquaintance, he still desired the man’s approval. He might never win his father’s approval, but securing Matthews’s good opinion was achievable.

Something about this meeting was different, though.

Niall knew they would discuss his marriage to Alicia and how his bid could be hindered by it, but he also knew Matthews would encourage him, once again, to search out the chapbooks author. But discovering the author’s identity seemed less important than adopting his wife’s brilliant suggestion to use the tracts to influence public opinion. Matthews would scoff at such a proposition, but Niall still wanted to share the idea.

He fidgeted in his seat, and Miss Edith smacked his thigh. “Pay attention,” she scolded.

A muffled snort caught his attention, and he looked over his shoulder to see the object of his thoughts standing near the back of the room with Lady Firthwell, her face deceptively serene. Her eyes twinkled with amusement, though.

Alicia’s merriment did odd things to his stomach. Of course she was here. He’d been foolish to think she would stay away.

Niall swept his gaze back to the stage before his expression gave away how besotted he felt at seeing her. He did his best to ignore her, although his skin prickled with awareness.

“Is that the new Lady Inverray?” Eunice asked, glancing at Alicia covertly over her shoulder.

Niall nodded.

“She’s lovely,” Edith said, making no attempt to keep her voice soft.

Several heads turned from the activity on the stage to look at them with wide, curious eyes. And almost in unison, their gazes flew to the back of the room, where they would find his wife.

The effort to keep his mien impassive made sweat dot his brow. Little Windmill House had always been a refuge, of sorts, for him. A place he could escape that didn’t revolve around politics or the latest gossip, and how it could be used to benefit himself or his allies. His visits were the highlight of his whole day, and he worked hard to form relationships with the children. Their short lives had been filled with pain and loss, and Niall wanted to show them that they were welcomed. That they were safe.

Yet suddenly, he didn’t feel safe. As the attention of the room fell on him and then Alicia, heat wafted off his skin as his anger rose. Why did she have to come? Why did her presence make everything so much harder than it had to be?

“Are you unwell, Lord Inverray?” Little Edith asked, her blue eyes unblinking on his face.

Niall frowned. “Why do you ask?”

“Because your face is red and your leg keeps bouncing up and down.” She laid a small hand on his forearm. “Are you bored?”

“Now you think I’m bored?” He bit back a sigh. “With this entertainment, why would I be bored?”

“Well, they’re not very good, are they?” Edith gestured to the actors with her small, pointed chin. “I thought you might be red in the face because you’re trying not to yawn. They sure are making me sleepy.”

Another stifled laugh from the back of the room reminded him who the real source of his discomfort was.

“Rest assured, Miss Edith, that I am thoroughly diverted.” He patted her hand. “Now pay attention to the play.”

And Niall did his best to follow his own command.

…

“I don’t recall Oliver being quite so infatuated with Rosalind. Do you?”

Sliding her gaze to the right, Alicia met Charlotte’s amused gaze. “He does seem a bit more attentive to her than poor Celia.”

The viscountess shuffled a step closer and dipped her head to whisper, “Danny fancies Molly. Mrs. Simpson, who is the house manager if you recall, said he auditioned for the role of Orlando, she thinks, so he had an excuse to plant a kiss on her, but instead lost the role to Billy there.”

Alicia smiled. “And does dear Molly fancy Danny in turn?”

“You tell me,” Charlotte murmured, inclining her head to the stage.

Rosalind and Oliver were standing with the objects of their love in the play, but the lovesick eyes the actors gave each other told a completely different story.

Chuckling under her breath, Alicia whispered, “How melodramatic young love can be.”

“Oh, I don’t think the theatrics are saved for the young.” Charlotte bumped her shoulder into hers. “Look at how emotional your own relationship with Lord Inverray is.”

“Emotional? Relationship?” Alicia scoffed, biting her lip when several small heads turned in her direction. Dropping her voice, she continued, “The marquess and I have a friendship. We married each other because we had to. The only emotion between us is mutual respect.”

The other woman clasped her hand, holding it tight. “I’m sorry. Marriage is hard even when you love your spouse, so I cannot imagine being married to someone out of necessity.”

“Your first marriage was a love match, was it not?” Alicia asked.

“It was.” Charlotte nodded, a soft note tingeing her voice. “I loved my first husband and I love Finlay. I feel very blessed to have known love twice. Did you love Lord Lindsay?”

Alicia forced down an uncomfortable swallow. “I…was fond of him. He cared for me when others would not.”

If Charlotte was curious about Alicia’s claim, she did not press her on it. “And now instead of celebrating a love match in your second marriage, you’ve been forced into a marriage of convenience.” She exhaled, and it echoed Alicia’s internal strife. “I noticed you did not take a wedding trip. But then with Inverray’s bid for Prime Minister, I’m sure that would have been difficult. Has he been kind to you, at least?”

Alicia worried the buttons on her sleeve. Her new husband had certainly been kind…but she wanted more. Niall was kind to everyone, she noticed. His patience seemed to know no bounds, as she witnessed as he interacted with the young children at the home. But she desired more than his kindness.

Although she was certain she didn’t deserve it.

“He’s been…amiable.”

It hurt to confess such a thing, but then Alicia did not want to lie to her new friend. Charlotte had been a widow, too, and knew how challenging it could be to start life anew with a different husband. In her case, she and Lord Firthwell were in love. Happy.

Although Alicia longed for such things, she comforted herself with the knowledge that Niall was an honorable man who held her in esteem. She could live with his good regard, if nothing else, even if it was a depressing thought.

“I don’t believe for one moment he feels so benignly toward you.”

Alicia shot her friend a dubious look. “Why do you say that? I think I would know as I’m the one married to him.”

“Because he has glanced back here no less than five times over the last few minutes.”

“No, he hasn’t.” Darting her gaze to where Niall was wedged between two guinea-haired girls, she held her breath to see if he would look in her direction. When he didn’t, she sighed. “He’s acting as if I’m not here.”

“He’s trying to act as if you’re not here, but he’s failing miserably.” Charlotte patted her arm. “Perhaps there’s hope for your marriage, after all.”

“If he addresses me with more than polite interest, I might agree with you.” She tried not to sound disgruntled, but the sympathetic smile Charlotte offered told her she had not succeeded.

“Well here’s your chance to put that to the test.” The viscountess raised her brows dramatically as she stepped away from her. “I have to assist the children in changing out of their costumes, but I’ll keep my eyes out to see if you exchange any pleasantries.”

“We won’t,” Alicia called after her, and the viscountess’s answering chuckle was faint.

Turning back to the room, she considered what to do. As this was her first time visiting Little Windmill, she wanted to make a good impression, especially because she was the new Lady Inverray.

Niall appeared to be involved in a serious discussion with a group of young girls, several of them talking at once while he nodded his head solemnly. Her heart lurched at the sight for he was so patient and attentive. He would make an amazing father…if the time ever came.

Ignoring the bittersweet twinge in her chest, Alicia scanned the room to see where she could be of assistance. Several older children were collecting chairs to be returned to the rooms they had been borrowed from, and she grabbed her chair to help them.

After that, Alicia helped Cook with dispersing little teacakes she had made specifically to celebrate the play’s debut performance. She looked pointedly away whenever a child grabbed an extra treat, because it was a party, and a party warranted seconds.

As she made her way back to the kitchens with her hands loaded with plates and napkins, a deep voice halted her in her tracks.

“You don’t have to do that. I’m sure there are any number of places you’d prefer to be than here, cleaning up after a gaggle of messy, noisy children.”

Pivoting, Alicia found Niall standing behind her, his mouth a tense line and his dark brows low over his eyes.

She collected her poise as best she could with the heavy load in her hands. “I prefer to be here than any other place I can think of. The play was delightful, the children are delightful, and they have made my day delightful.”

Niall grunted, crossing his arms over his chest and looking down at his boots.

Annoyance clouded her vision. “Has my presence here been an imposition for you?”

He shook his head, his dark hair falling across his brow. “Of course not.”

Alicia sighed. “Why didn’t you invite me then? Did you think I wouldn’t want to be here?”

“I just…” He stopped, snapping his mouth closed. Niall worked his jaw for a moment, then mumbled, “It doesn’t matter. You’re here now.”

“So I am.” After a moment, Alicia released a long sigh. “If you do not mind, my lord, I should deliver these to the kitchen. They grow heavy.”

“I can take them for you,” he said, stepping forward to relieve her of the carefully stacked dishes.

She jerked away. “I don’t need your help.” Belatedly, she added, “But thank you.”

He nodded once, stared at her for a long moment, and then prowled away.

Alicia watched Niall’s retreating back, warring emotions choking her. He seemed irked she was there but wouldn’t say why. Did he honestly believe she wouldn’t want to be involved in his efforts to help orphaned children? Or maybe it wasn’t about her presence at the home at all? But then again, did she really have a right to be frustrated with his lack of forthrightness when she herself was withholding a secret ten times more important? And potentially more destructive?

Huffing a breath, she turned on her heels and headed to the kitchens.

As she placed the dishes on the counter, Alicia felt a presence behind her. Charlotte and Juliana stood there, cautious expressions on their faces.

“We saw Niall speaking with you in the hall. Did he tell you why he didn’t invite you?” the duchess asked.

“He did not,” Alicia said, wiping her hands on a cloth. “He indicated there were probably other places I’d prefer to be than here.”

Juliana rubbed at the spot between her eyes, while Charlotte sighed. “But I suppose he could have simply greeted you and left it at that. Instead he hunted you down to speak with you. I can’t help but think that’s encouraging.”

“You’re a dear for thinking so, but then I know my brother.” Juliana considered Alicia with serious eyes. “He seems determined to keep his distance from you. I wonder why?”

A heavy weight pressed on her as a horrible thought popped into her mind. Was it possible Niall had learned her secret? She hadn’t released any new tracts since the day of the Talbot ball, but she had been working on a draft regarding the child labor legislation. Could he have found it? The possibility left her decidedly nauseated, and she clamped her eyes closed as she steadied herself.

Without a word, Juliana stepped forward and wrapped her in a hug. Alicia had never been the demonstrative type, but it was easy to relax into the woman’s warm embrace.

“This marriage is new for both of you, and will take time to adjust to it. Just…just allow him that time. Charlotte and I are united in our belief that my stubborn brother is quite fond of you, but uncertain if he should show it.”

Alicia pulled back to look at her. “Why is that?”

Juliana twisted her mouth, her gaze unfocused for a moment. “Niall’s life here in London is career focused. All his time is occupied with politics and speculating for the Campbell estate, and I believe he likes it that way. Emotions can be messy, and Niall is a neat and orderly type of person. Between us, I think he is afraid to allow himself to consider an actual marriage with you. To do that would mean he’d have to relinquish some of the control he holds so tightly about himself.”

Could that really be it? Was Niall holding her at arm’s length because he feared letting her close? She might not understand her new husband, but wouldn’t his own sister?

And if he did let her close, would he regret it when he learned about her anonymous career?

She needed to do something now, something powerful, so that when she finally told Niall her secret, it would be met with appreciation instead of disdain.

Stepping from Juliana’s arms, Alicia ran a hand down her skirts before she tucked an errant curl behind her ear. “I’ve been thinking about ways that I could be of assistance to Inverray’s campaign, and I believe I’ve come up with a plan.” Sliding her gaze to Charlotte, she raised her brows. “Do you remember the suggestion I made about how to exploit the political tract writer?”

The viscountess gasped. “I do. I thought it was splendid. Have you thought of how you can set the plan into motion?”

Alicia grinned, taking particular delight in Charlotte and Juliana’s interested miens. “Let me share what I’ve been thinking.”

A quarter of an hour later, after the duchess and viscountess had shared their thoughts on her proposition, they agreed they would share the details with the other patronesses.

“This will work,” Juliana declared, clapping her hands together. “Surely if we hit all the talking points, at the right times, the writer is bound to hear of it, right?”

“Right.” Alicia bit back a chuckle. Effia already had her next essay in hand, waiting for Alicia to tell her when to publish it. “And hopefully the tracts will gain public support, which will allow Inverray to pass a bill through his committee. It would be a big win for party electors to consider when they tap their new leader.”

“Excellent. I’m very optimistic about this,” Charlotte enthused, reaching out to squeeze Alicia’s hand.

A warm glow filled her chest that she could now count these two ladies as friends.

“You should tell Niall.” Juliana grasped her other hand. “What better way to show him you’re on his side? You can work together to see this through.”

Lud, Alicia hoped he saw it that way.

Sucking in a breath, she asked, “Do you know if he’s still here?”

“I saw the marquess entering the formal parlor upstairs earlier,” Charlotte offered.

“Go speak to him,” Juliana urged.

She nodded. “I suppose that if I want to make this a real marriage, I’m going to have to initiate it myself.”

The duchess let out a tinkle of laughter. “Good for you. For all that Niall has worked hard to enact laws and make changes to serve the good of the country, he still needs someone to take him in hand. And I’m so glad it’s you to do it.”