The Virgin Who Ruined Lord Gray - Anna Bradley Page 0,36

years old. Tristan’s chest gave a strange little lurch at the thought, but he pushed it aside. Miss Monmouth wouldn’t be his responsibility for much longer, and he preferred it that way.

He knocked his fist on the roof of the carriage to summon his coachman.

She looked up. “Where are we going?”

“My lord?” The coachman appeared at the window.

“The Clifford School, Platt. No. 26 Maddox Street.” Tristan issued the order without taking his eyes off her. If he wasn’t mistaken, Miss Monmouth preferred to keep him far away from Lady Clifford.

“Yes, my lord.” The coachman disappeared, and a moment later the carriage jerked into motion.

She shoved the locket into a hidden pocket in her dress, and with it any vulnerability he might have glimpsed in her face. “It’s terribly chivalrous of you to see me home, Lord Gray,” she drawled, “But unnecessary, for all that.”

He gave her a thin smile. “It’s not chivalry, Miss Monmouth, but forethought. Peter Sharpe is mere blocks away from here. I wouldn’t want you to be tempted to follow him again.”

“For pity’s sake. I just gave you my word I wouldn’t, yet here you are, still not satisfied.”

No, he wasn’t satisfied—far from it—but he couldn’t quite figure out why. He and Miss Monmouth had reached a truce of sorts, which was more than he’d expected to get from her. “I thought I’d pay a call on Lady Clifford.”

She shot upright in her seat. “Lady Clifford! Why, whatever for?”

Ah. He wasn’t mistaken, then. She didn’t want him anywhere near Lady Clifford.

Tristan arched an eyebrow at her raised voice. “Such an outburst. I wonder, Miss Monmouth, why my calling on Lady Clifford should distress you so.”

She shrugged, but her dark scowl remained. “I just don’t see what you’d want with Lady Clifford, that’s all.”

“You’ll find out soon enough.”

She frowned. “I hope you don’t expect a warm reception from her. She won’t be pleased to see you.”

Tristan’s lips gave a traitorous twitch at her sulky expression. “I’ll endeavor to hide my disappointment.”

* * * *

There wasn’t a single person at No. 26 Maddox Street who was pleased to see Tristan, but Daniel Brixton was the least pleased of all of them.

“I told you to stay away from Miss Sophia, Lord Gray. I thought I’d made myself clear.”

Clear enough, yes. Keep away from the Clifford School, or else. Unfortunately for Daniel Brixton, Tristan didn’t take orders from him. Still, now wasn’t the time to get into a tussle with Lady Clifford’s guard dog. “Easy, Brixton. I just came to deliver Miss Monmouth to Lady Clifford.”

“It’s all right, Daniel. I’d like to hear what Lord Gray has to say. Do wait here in the entryway, though, won’t you?” Lady Clifford nodded to Brixton, then turned her attention back to Tristan. “Will you come into the drawing room, my lord? You too, Sophia.”

Tristan followed Lady Clifford and Miss Monmouth down a hallway to a drawing room where three young ladies and a very ugly pug dog were seated on a green silk settee, obviously waiting for someone.

“Sophia!” One of the young ladies rose unsteadily to her feet. “Jeremy?”

Miss Monmouth met her friend’s gaze. She didn’t speak, only shook her head.

“No. Oh, no. Jeremy.” The other girl went as pale as death, and dropped onto the settee as if her legs had given way beneath her.

“Emma, Georgiana, take Cecilia upstairs, please.” Lady Clifford spoke with the air of one who needn’t raise her voice to be obeyed.

The dark-haired girl—Cecilia, presumably—let out a choked sob, but allowed herself to be led from the drawing room.

Lady Clifford waited for the door to close behind them, then waved Tristan toward the settee the three young ladies had just vacated. “Please do sit down, Lord Gray. Sophia, you look rather limp. Come sit next to me, dearest.” She patted the seat next to her.

Tristan hadn’t been prepared to be received with such graciousness, but he took a seat. “Thank you, my lady.”

“Now then, Lord Gray.” Lady Clifford folded her hands in her lap and turned a politely enquiring look on him. “I confess myself surprised to see you here. How did you happen to come across Sophia today?”

“We met at the Old Bailey, my lady.”

Tristan had assumed Miss Monmouth had come to the trial at her ladyship’s direction, but Lady Clifford seemed surprised by this information. “Did you, indeed?” Her tone was mild, but there was a subtle shift of tension in the room. “I didn’t realize you meant to attend Jeremy’s trial today, dearest. It seems