My Lady Scandal Read Online Free PDF Page B

day, and allowed himself to admit that he was intrigued. They were undoubtedly of good birth and good family, even if the house was falling down about them. What had possessed Thomas Marriott to abandon his ancestral house for so long, leaving it to such a dreadful state of decay? He had left his son a Herculean task if it were to be restored to its former glory.
    Which raised an interesting question; why were the two Marriotts holding up coaches in the middle of the night, an occupation that was both perilous and – he would have thought – an unusual pastime for somebody of their class.
    The only answer that came to mind was that they needed the money.
    Desperately, in fact.
    Interesting.
    He headed back to Farthingale on his re-shod horse – it had taken a bit of skill to get the shoe off his black hunter but a bewildered groom had assisted – and found his friend Charles Audley just sitting down to his luncheon.
    ‘Carlisle,’ his host greeted him, waving a hand towards a chair, ‘just in time. Pull up a chair.’
    Charles was home alone at the moment, his brood having gone to spend several weeks at their countryseat. He was the proud Papa of two children and his wife was expecting their third in the spring. She had wanted a few weeks away from the Social whirl and had retreated for some solitary time in Sussex. Charles would have gone as well, but he was secretary to a member of Parliament and had commitments that would keep him in town.
    Grif sat and smiled at his friend. ‘What a pleasant day!’
    ‘You sound cheerful. What have you been up to?’
    ‘Why do people always assume I am ‘up’ to something?’ his lordship said plaintively, ‘can I not have merely been uplifted by nature?’
    Charles looked him over for a moment. ‘No,’ he said, his tone dry, ‘a good mood generally means you are up to something.’
    ‘People can be very cruel.’ Grif helped himself to a dish of braised chicken and mushroom. ‘I actually paid several social calls, thereby enhancing your social status. The… now, what was their name? Oh, yes! The Plenderlieths. Three daughters, faces only a mother could care fore; quite tragic, really.’
    Charles boggled at him. ‘You went and visited with the Plenderlieths? Good God, man, what on earth inspired that piece of madness? Lizbet avoids them at all costs. Lady Plenderleith is a dreadful gossip.’ Lizbet was Elizabeth Audley, Charles’ wife. They had an unusually affectionate marriage, or so Grif thought. Extraordinarily, after seven years together, the two seemed to be as besotted with each other as they had been on the day of their marriage.
    ‘Indeed she is. Do you know that the Marriotts have returned to Holly Oak Hall?’
    ‘I do, actually. Lizbet called on them several months ago and left a card. Tragic, the way both parents were killed.’
    ‘Did you know them? The parents, I mean.’
    Charles frowned. ‘Not particularly. Thomas Marriott was a loose cannon. Gambler, always in Queer Street with the bailiffs. He married a Frenchwoman. They left – very abruptly – but everybody thought they would be back after a few months. They never returned.’
    ‘Indeed?’ Grif mused. He wondered if Perry was a gambler, following in his father’s footsteps, as was so often the case.
    ‘Society being what it is I am sure their debut will be of great interest.’ Charles pulled a dish of sweetmeats towards him and inspected it for a moment before making his selection.
    ‘Yes,’ Grif agreed reflectively. ‘Are you free on Friday evening, Charles?’
    Charles regarded his friend narrowly. ‘Why do you ask?’
    ‘I am having a soiree at Mount Street. Nothing too grand; some dancing, some convivial company.’
    ‘Oh, aye?’ Audley was watching the Viscount with considerable curiosity. ‘I will be there, of course. But you rarely entertain. What is the occasion?’
    ‘The reintroduction of the Marriotts into Society.’ He gave his friend a wicked smile. ‘I think it