The Shadows: Regency Romance (Ladies, Love, and Mysteries) Read online

  Julia hesitated, then shrugged. “I confess that the rumor he told me of did pique my interest,” she said as Lady Haddington rolled her eyes. “And if you are to attend, then I might accompany you?” She darted a quick look around the room, giving Lady Haddington a wry smile. “My companion will be present but entirely useless.”

  Lady Haddington held Julia’s gaze for a moment longer and then nodded, although a small sigh slipped from her mouth. “Very well,” she answered quietly. “Just be sure that he is not bullying you into attending, Miss Hawkins.”

  “I will be safe if you are there, I am sure,” Julia admitted, glad that something had caught her interest at last—even if it was the conceited and much too arrogant Lord Atherton. “The whole story sounds quite fanciful but still…”

  Lady Haddington laughed softly, her eyes dancing. “You are quite determined to find a mystery to suit you, are you not?” she said as Julia flushed. “Well, I hope you are suitably entertained tomorrow evening, Miss Hawkins. It shall certainly be a night to remember.”

  3

  “Good evening, brother.”

  Stephen sighed inwardly as he walked into his brother’s new townhouse, already fully expecting everything to be gaudy and exaggerated. Looking around the long hallway, he sighed again, heavily and audibly this time, as he took in the number of furnishings, the artwork on the wall, and the many other trinkets that just shouted aloud that the Marquess of Atherton was a wealthy man.

  “You are late!” Lord Atherton cried, coming toward Stephen and slapping one hand on his back. “Fashionably so, mayhap, but still…” He chuckled, looking at Stephen with a dark flicker in his eyes. “It could not be that you disapprove of me now, could it?”

  Stephen bit back his first, sharp reply and tried to smile, even though he was sure it appeared to be nothing more than a grimace.

  “Your business is your own,” he told his brother, hearing the screams of delight that came from the ballroom, the swell of laughter, and the loud music that only added to the melee. “And you have purchased this townhouse because…?” He trailed off, looking up at his brother and waiting for Lord Atherton to explain himself. Atherton already owned one excellent townhouse and Stephen had been a little surprised to hear that his brother had then gone on to purchase a second one. His brother had always been much too overt with his fortune and liked to do things that would often shock the ton. This, Stephen was sure, would be no different.

  “You mean to say you have not heard the rumors about this house?” Lord Atherton exclaimed, one hand pressed against his heart. “Do tell me that you are not so disinterested in society as to have avoided this particular story?”

  Now silently wishing he had listened to his good sense and stayed at home instead of coming to his brother’s ball, Stephen smiled indulgently at his brother’s mocking tone and then gestured for him to continue to speak. Clearly, Lord Atherton wanted to tell Stephen everything about this place and Stephen now had no choice but to let him.

  “This townhouse has been vacant for some years,” Lord Atherton continued, walking toward the ballroom door and ushering Stephen through it. “It has remained within one family’s possession but they have neither lived here nor sold it for some years, even though it took the life of one of them.”

  Stephen frowned, wondering if his brother was being entirely truthful. “Some people do not like to reside in a house which took the last breath of their loved ones,” he said slowly, aware that it was only the richest among them who could afford to behave in such a way. “Is that what you mean?”

  Lord Atherton laughed heartily, his voice a little louder now as the guests swirled all around them.

  “No, indeed, that is not what I mean at all,” he stated as Stephen stifled a sigh of impatience. “What I am saying is that the previous owner died on the very evening of his first ball here in this house.”

  Stephen resisted the urge to roll his eyes. “I see.”

  “Not only that,” Lord Atherton continued, “but he was not the first to do so. In fact, it has been said that the previous two owners of the house also died in a mysterious manner, although both deaths came during the first ball held since their ownership, with both residing within these four walls.”

  “A likely tale,” Stephen scoffed, a little embarrassed that his brother clearly either believed this story or had been using it to bring up a good deal more interest in the place from the beau monde. “There can be no one to confirm such a thing, surely?”

  Lord Atherton waggled his eyebrows. “The family who held the house before the previous owners were the Dearleys,” he said, by way of explanation. “There was also a death here then. I have it in writing.”

  Stephen narrowed his eyes, taking in his brother’s expression and half expecting this supposed truth to have been faked by Lord Atherton himself. “I would like to see such a thing, before I allow myself to even consider such a foolish story,” he told his brother, who laughed aloud. “And you have decided to purchase this house simply because of the rumor?”

  “Indeed,” Lord Atherton laughed with a shrug. “It is what I do, is it not?”

  Stephen could not help but agree. His brother knew himself well, it seemed, but was not put off from his intentions in any way. “It is precisely the sort of thing you would do,” he agreed quietly. “Only be careful, brother dear. There may be an opportunity here for your enemies to strike…” He said nothing more and began to walk away, but not before noticing how Lord Atherton paled suddenly, only to shrug, grin, and turn to walk in the opposite direction.

  It was all much too macabre for Stephen’s liking. His brother might find it rather funny to have purchased such a property, but Stephen knew that it was done only to bring attention from the beau monde back onto Atherton himself. That was what his brother longed for, and simply being a marquess was not enough attention for him. He wanted to do all he could to have society talking about him, reveling in the attention, whether good or bad. Stephen, on the other hand, much preferred to remain in the shadows. With a smaller yet profitable estate, he spent his time managing his home, his tenants, and his business ventures in the continent. All in all, he was very content, save for the fact that news of his brother’s ridiculous behavior would often reach his ears and make him burn with shame.

  Of course, he would have to marry at some point, but as yet, the idea seemed almost too far out of reach to even consider. To marry would mean to bring a young lady into his life and into his family, which would mean introducing her to Lord Atherton. Stephen winced at the thought. He had made such a mistake once before and had suffered for it. Having found himself quite intrigued with the remarkably pretty Lady Constance, he had taken the liberty of introducing her to his brother—only to watch her interest in him begin to fade away and build, instead, for his brother. Not that Atherton had any particular interest in the lady, for he was not as disrespectful or as cruel as that. He had done nothing to try to encourage the lady’s affections but still, Lady Constance had found it quite impossible to remain solely dedicated to Stephen himself. It had been to Lord Atherton she had turned and, soon after, had realized that all he would give her was a broken heart.

  Stephen had not seen her again. Perhaps that was why he came to London for the Season but with no intention of seeking a bride. There were many things for him to enjoy, of course, but he could dance and converse and laugh with many a young lady without having any specific intentions for them. Of that, he was quite sure.

  Turning his head away from his brother, Stephen continued to make his way to the corner of the room, preferring to stand a little away from the dancers and to keep to the quieter parts of the ballroom. He was not in the mood for dancing and, whilst he was no marquess, he was rich and eligible enough for the mothers of debutantes to come and seek him out. That was not at all an idea that pleased him. No, he wanted to be left entirely alone until he chose to speak to an acquaintance or was willing to be introduced to someone new.

  “It is
very busy here this evening,” he murmured to himself, taking a glass from one of the footmen’s trays and sniffing it carefully. It smelled like excellent brandy and, as Stephen took a sip, he felt the amber liquid spread its warmth all through him. Yes, it appeared it was excellent brandy. His brother had spared no expense.

  “Ah, Lord Stephen Paxton.”

  Stephen turned his head, only for a broad grin to settle across his face. “Lord Haddington,” he smiled, greeting his acquaintance. “How very good to see you here this evening.”

  “And you as well,” came the reply. “It has been nearly two years since I last saw you, I think.”

  Wincing, Stephen shook his head. “I was present last Season, Lord Haddington,” he answered, a trifle stiffly, “but I kept very much to myself. My brother, as you might recall, was in excellent form.”

  Understanding shone in Lord Haddington’s eyes. “I see,” he said with a small nod. “Then I am glad to see you here in person this evening. You must not hide in the shadows any longer. I am sure that society does not think ill of you solely because your brother is the Marquess of Atherton.” This was, Stephen considered, meant to be of comfort to Stephen but instead, all he felt was angst.

  “Are you here for the entire Season?” Lord Haddington continued, clearly unaware of what he had said and how it had affected Stephen. “And are you here for any particular reason?”

  Stephen laughed, his awkwardness leaving him at once. “I am not seeking a bride, if that is what you are asking me,” he said as Lord Haddington looked crestfallen. “Why should you ask me such a thing?”

  Lord Haddington cleared his throat, his eyes darting away. “Only because I have a dear friend of my wife’s here this evening, and I had hoped to throw a few eligible gentlemen in her direction,” he said with a small shrug. “I will know not to send her toward you.”

  Grinning and feeling a good deal better about his attendance here this evening, Stephen allowed himself a moment of levity. “I am sure I should be very glad to meet her,” he answered as Lord Haddington looked at him in surprise. “Just so long as you do not expect me to fall completely in love with her and demand that she give me her hand in marriage.” He chuckled as Lord Haddington rolled his eyes. “I am not at all inclined toward matrimony as yet,” he finished, and Lord Haddington grinned. “But good company… yes, I am inclined toward that.”

  “Matrimony is an excellent state in which to find oneself,” Lord Haddington replied, his voice a little louder and his eyes now on someone over Stephen’s left shoulder. “Is that not so, my dear?”

  Stephen, who had never met Lady Haddington, turned to find two ladies approaching him. Both were looking at Lord Haddington, and both had smiles etched on their faces. One was willowy and had chestnut-colored hair, with deep blue eyes and alabaster skin. The other had glossy, brown hair, with tumbling curls falling from the back of her head, and swirling green and brown eyes, high cheekbones, and a delicate pink brushing across her cheeks.

  His stomach dropped as the latter turned her eyes toward him, her smile remaining gently on her lips. She was absolutely beautiful and Stephen had to force himself not to stare, suddenly afraid that this lady was Lord Haddington’s wife.

  “You are quite right, Haddington,” said the first lady, sending a sudden rush of relief flowing through Stephen. “But will you not introduce us to your friend?” She smiled as she greeted Stephen. “I do not think we have ever been introduced.”

  Lord Haddington quickly made the introductions and Stephen smiled, bowed, and greeted both young ladies warmly, noting that the latter was not wed herself.

  “And you are the brother to Lord Atherton?” asked Miss Hawkins as Stephen lifted his head. He nodded, seeing how a flicker of a frown crossed her face as she considered this, a slightly frosty air coming between them that was almost palpable.

  “He is my brother, yes,” Stephen answered, finding a sudden urge to speak honestly filling him. “But I confess, Miss Hawkins, that I find no joy in such a connection. I can only apologize if you have found him rude, improper, or any other such thing.”

  This, for whatever reason, seemed to please Miss Hawkins immensely, for her frown cleared and a small smile tugged at her mouth again. “That is kind of you to say,” she answered warmly. “But you need not apologize on your brother’s behalf. I confess I was only introduced to him yesterday, so I have not quite managed to form a proper opinion of him as yet.” This was said with a quick look being shot toward Lady Haddington, and Stephen caught the quirking of Lady Haddington’s lips. Something told him that both ladies had a very good measure of his brother, and that thought brought him no pleasure at all.

  “This is the first time I have been in my brother’s townhouse,” he said as Lord Haddington picked up two glasses of brandy from the table nearby and handed one to Stephen. “It is just as I thought it would be.”

  “Oh, but it is filled with rumors, is it not?” Miss Hawkins asked, her eyes suddenly glowing with interest. “Your brother made sure to inform me that there was something very untoward about this place.”

  Stephen snorted and shook his head. “Yes he told me the same only a few minutes ago,” he said, seeing the light fade from her eyes. “I cannot believe it. I think the previous owner’s death, whilst sad, was not because of any such rumor or threat from the house itself. You yourself know what gossip can do, Miss Hawkins. I would not give it more than a few seconds of consideration before you forget it entirely.”

  She held his gaze for a moment, seeming to be a little disappointed. Then, she gave herself a slight shake, smiled, and tilted her head just a little. “I am glad to hear that you consider it nothing more than an imaginary story,” she said, warmth filling her voice. “I would not want anything to happen to your brother.”

  He chuckled ruefully. “I think you are in the minority with such an opinion, Miss Hawkins,” he said as Lord Haddington let out a bark of laughter. “But it is kind of you to say.”

  “Really!” Lady Haddington protested, her eyes twinkling as she flapped one hand at her husband. “That is quite rude, my dear Haddington. You cannot wish for any injury to come upon Lord Atherton.”

  “No, I am sure I do not,” he answered, catching his wife’s hand and pressing it to his lips, making Lady Haddington blush. “Come now, my lady. Let us take to the floor.”

  Knowing that it would be expected for him to ask Miss Hawkins, Stephen was surprised at the slight flush of anticipation that rushed up his spine. “Miss Hawkins?” he asked, extending his hand as Lord and Lady Haddington began to walk out toward the dance floor. “Might you wish to dance also, or are you already engaged for this waltz?”

  Miss Hawkins’ cheeks were a little pink, but she smiled her agreement. “I am not already engaged,” she said softly. “Thank you, Lord Stephen. You are very kind.”

  Dancing with Miss Hawkins was more than wonderful. Stephen enjoyed every moment, for Miss Hawkins was a dream to dance with, her smile only adding to his own sense of happiness. They danced around the floor with sure, steady steps, moving together with ease. Stephen said not a single word to her, allowing the music to flow around them both and fearing that if he said a single word, it might break the moment of loveliness that surrounded them at present. When the music came to a close, Stephen felt himself let out a long, contented sigh, only to flush with embarrassment as Miss Hawkins looked up at him, having heard him.

  “You dance very well, Miss Hawkins,” Stephen said quickly, so as to cover the real reason for his sigh of contentment. “Very well indeed.”

  “I thank you,” she answered, curtsying beautifully whilst Stephen hurriedly dropped into the bow he had forgotten. “You are very kind.” Her eyes twinkled. “And I do not think you stepped on my foot even once.”

  The moment of embarrassment gone, Stephen chuckled and offered Miss Hawkins his arm, which she took without hesitation. “I would not recommend dancing with my brother, if you wish to protect your feet, Miss Hawkins,” he said, an
d she laughed. “I am afraid that he is not a particularly proficient dancer.” Looking at her out of the corner of his eye, he let a sudden flicker of curiosity take hold. “You say that you were only introduced to my brother recently?”

  “Only last evening,” Miss Hawkins replied steadily. “It was… kind of him to invite me.”

  Stephen heard the momentary hesitation and looked away, knowing full well how his brother reacted to particularly beautiful young ladies. Most likely, he would have attempted to fiercely compliment her and then urged her to attend his ball—with the sole intention of trying to seduce her for his own pleasures. Although, Stephen considered, based on his first impressions of Miss Hawkins, he did not think she would be inclined toward his brother’s attentions.

  “I presume that you do not believe the rumors about this house,” Miss Hawkins said as they made their way slowly back toward Lord and Lady Haddington. “The first ball held here will bring death to the master of the house?” She shook her head and tutted. “I do not think I have ever heard something so ridiculous.”

  Stephen chuckled, finding that he quite liked Miss Hawkins’ open way of speaking. “I think that you and I are quite similar in our thinking, Miss Hawkins,” he told her, making her smile. “My brother, however, has purchased this house for the sole purpose of bringing more attention to himself.” Grimacing, he shrugged. “He likes to have all of society talking of him, regardless of how good or ill it might be.”

  Miss Hawkins lifted one shoulder, a small gleam in her eye. “I will not pretend that there is not some interest on my part as regards the rumor, but I certainly do not expect to see your brother falling to the floor or stumbling out of the darkness with a knife in his back.”

  “Nor I,” Stephen answered emphatically. “Rumors are nothing more than idle gossip as far as I am concerned.”

  Their conversation was interrupted by a sudden scream that pulled everyone’s attention toward the other side of the room. Stephen turned at once, as another scream ran all the way around the room, before the entire ballroom plunged into a deathly silence.