The Duke's Dastardly Mistake (Unlikely Pairs Book 2) Page 4

  Lydia's eyes nearly popped out of her head as she sputtered, “That's absurd? Who'd say such a thing?”

  Lady Sophia shrugged her slender shoulders and proceeded to take a sip of her tea.

  Everything in Lydia wanted to explode. There was only one person who would spread such vile rumors about her, and it was he who had tried to teach her a lesson, not the other way around.

  “Have you by chance been talking to the Duke of Ludington?” Lydia asked icily, wondering how Lady Sophia could remain so calm when she felt like she was about to explode.

  Unless Lady Sophia was a good actress, the look of surprise she was giving Lydia had to be genuine. “What does the Duke have to do with your reputation?”

  “Nothing,” Lydia snapped irritably, though the voice inside of her was screaming, “Everything!”

  “I find you to be the most miserable of company, brother. Whatever is wrong?”

  Levi snapped out of his reverie and leveled his brooding gaze on his sister. “You've never found my companionship desirable, Alexandra. Why act so surprised today?”

  Alexandra rolled her eyes and quickly rose to her feet, straightening her skirts as she did so. “That may be true, but at least I used to find it tolerable. I don't know what is going on, but you look as if you have suffered the longest night of your life. Your hair is unkempt, your cravat askew, and the circles under your eyes are so dark one might mistakenly believe you've been punched.”

  He'd suffered far more than one night in misery. Levi had hardly slept since the horrendous night in the Whitworth library when he'd discovered Lydia's ruin. Countless times he'd replayed the image of Lydia in Lord Whitworth's arms in his mind, hoping the repetitiveness would dull the pain, but it never did. Each time he replayed it, he felt just as sick as he had when he'd witnessed it in real life.

  “Unless your visit has a purpose, other than to annoy me, I must insist you depart. I have things to see to today,” he snapped, knowing he sounded rude but not even trying to disguise it.

  “I do have a purpose. I came to give you this invite.” Alexandra dug into her reticule and retrieved a folded piece of parchment, sealed with wax and pressed with Lord Emberson's seal. She threw it onto the desk in front of him and quipped, “Perhaps I don't want you to attend if you're going to remain in such a way, but as my only sibling, I thought you deserved an invite.”

  She paused for a moment as if waiting for him to thank her, which he didn't, before turning on her heal and letting herself out.

  Levi stared at the invitation with little curiosity or excitement. He had no desire to attend another frivolous evening of entertainment involving the ton, whether his sister threw it or not. He picked it up and stood, intending to throw it into the fire without reading it when a small stirring of emotion gave him pause. Alexandra annoyed him like only a little sister could, but he did love her and desired to participate in her life. She was the only family he had left since his parents had died.

  He slid his thumb beneath the wax seal and broke it. Hastily slipping the invitation from the envelope, he read:

  You are cordially invited to attend a dinner in honor of Miss Lydia Phelps and Lord Gilbert Whitworth to celebrate their recent engagement.

  Levi dropped the missive as if he had been burned. It was official now—Lydia was engaged, and it was all his fault—he could've stopped it. Guilt threatened to consume him, but he refused to let it. Instead, he turned to the sideboard and quickly popped the top off the crystal decanter of brandy and poured himself a generous measure, which he downed swiftly.

  He wiped his mouth on the back of his shirt sleeve before deciding he could no longer tolerate moping around his townhouse in misery. He had to find a way to get all the pent-up anger and regret out of him. There was only one way he knew how to do that, and that was by doing something physical.

  An hour later, Levi found himself entering Gentleman Jackson's boxing saloon located at number thirteen Bond Street. The smell of sweat that permeated the air as he entered exhilarated him. Soon, he'd be taking out his aggression on someone's face, drowning his sorrow in pain, instead of thinking about the vexing Miss Lydia Phelps.

  As soon as he had changed into a pair of soft, buckskin breeches, his chest left bare; he entered the main room where he was quickly paired up with Lord Jefferson, a man he knew casually from his time spent at the boxing saloon.

  With his fists in front of him, he danced back and forth, waiting for the perfect time to strike. Feeling a bit impulsive, he made to hit too soon, and Lord Jefferson’s fist caught his jaw, causing Levi's head to snap back while another fist pounded into his stomach, nearly knocking the wind out of him.

  “You're weak today,” Lord Jefferson observed as he struck again. This time Levi was fast enough and was able to dodge the hit.

  “Just getting warmed up,” he muttered as he struck, hitting Lord Jefferson squarely in the chest, not once, but twice.

  “Now that's more like it,” Lord Jefferson said with a grin, ignoring the throbbing in his chest.

  On and on they went, taking turns pounding one another in a match the was quite equally yoked. For the duration of the fight, Levi was successfully able to forget about Lydia and focus solely on his opponent until Gentleman Jackson himself came over and declared him the winner. Levi's swollen lips formed a slight grin as he reached across the space and shook Lord Jefferson's hand.

  Levi debated taking on another opponent but felt the exhaustion from a week of little sleep begin to overcome him, and decided against it. He shook the sweat from his hair and made his way to the changing room where Lord Jefferson was waiting for him.

  “You should consider participating in a paid match. There's one to be held in a fortnight, and they're still looking for participants. There's good money to be had if you win.”

  “I don't need the money,” he grumbled as he made to move past the man.

  “Neither do I, but it is an added bonus. Your skill has improved considerably this past year, Ludington. There's more to gain than blunt, you know?”

  Levi dipped a clean rag into a bowl of water and began wiping the sweat from his body. “Like what?” he asked, only half curious.

  “Like glory, honor, and prestige. Besides the fact that men like you don't need those things overmuch, there is something these boxing matches can provide for you. Personally, I mean.”

  Levi glanced over at the blonde man whose face was swollen from his punches. “What would that be?”

  “A distraction. I didn't want to bring it up, but I've heard that Miss Phelps has recently jaded you.”

  Levi's hackles went up as the hand holding the rag stilled. “Pardon?”

  “Yes, rumor has it that she refused your proposal to accept Lord Whitworth's. Apparently, her love belongs to another.”

  “Lydia doesn't love Lord Whitworth,” he ground out angrily.

  Lord Jefferson raised one brow curiously. “So, it's true then?”

  “No! I never proposed to Miss Phelps.”

  Lord Jefferson ignored his heated insistence and pulled his shirt over his head. “Perhaps you wish you would have.”

  Ignoring his jibe, Levi asked, “Who is spreading such falsehood amongst the ton? Miss Phelps?”

  “I cannot say where the rumor originated, just that it's being spread. If you're not careful, Ludington, people are going to believe it's true.”

  “What do you mean, if I'm not careful?”

  “If you wish other people to dismiss the rumor, you cannot act so passionately whenever it's brought to your attention. It makes one suspect there is some truth behind the words.”

  It rankled Levi that Lord Jefferson was giving him advice on how to handle his life. “Does not every man, or woman, find untrue words spoken about themselves distasteful? It's only normal to be bothered by such lies.”

  Lord Jefferson shrugged. “'Tis only normal to refute them with such passion when there's a modicum of truth in them.”

  Feeling the need to defe
nd himself, Levi hissed, “There has never been a relationship between Miss Phelps and me, certainly not one that would lead to an engagement.”

  “'Tis a shame,” Lord Jefferson quipped, finishing his dress, “for even I find myself a bit jealous of ol' Gilbert. Miss Phelps is quite a tempting morsel.”

  His words weren't crude or out of place, but they caused a fire to well up inside of Levi. Without even thinking, he pulled Lord Jefferson up by the collar and smashed him into the wall. “Don't speak of Miss Phelps in such a way.”

  Lord Jefferson looked affronted as he pushed Levi away from him. “Calm yourself, man. You're acting irrationally.”

  He knew he was and worse, that he had been ever since the night he found Lydia in his stables wearing breeches, but he couldn't seem to control himself. He mumbled a quick apology before adding, “Perhaps I should sign up for the boxing match. It's apparent a distraction is just what I need.”

  Lord Jefferson grinned victoriously. “Yes, indeed it is. I'll send you the information of the man who is coordinating the match on the morrow. You will not regret this.”

  Levi nodded before quickly changing into clean clothing. Once out in his carriage, he had a moment to think about what had just occurred. It bothered him that the ton was spreading rumors about him, for he knew how nasty they could be. Not only did it bother him because of the cattiness of it all, but it also pricked at his pride that they were being told that Lydia rejected him, though it was true to a degree.

  There had been one time in the past several months where he had been ready to offer for her, but she had given him the indication that she would not find it favorable, so he failed to do so. That had been the night Lord Emberson had found them in the tavern, in a situation that, by all means, looked scandalous.

  As far as he was aware, only Lord Emberson and Lydia knew of the happenings of that night. He knew his brother-in-law would never spread such a rumor around, for it had the potential to affect Alexandra as well. Therefore, that left only one possibility—Lydia had to be the person behind the gossip.

  A fresh wave of anger washed over Levi along with an incessant need to speak with Lydia, to put her in her place for spreading such lies. He reached up and tapped on the roof of his carriage, causing his driver to come to a halt.

  “What is it, Your Grace?”

  “Direct the carriage towards Berkley Square. I have a sudden need to pay a call at the Phelps residence.”

  Without question, the driver did as Levi instructed, turning the carriage from its path back to Grosvenor Square in the opposite direction towards Berkley Square.

  The minute the carriage came to a halt, Levi opened the door and bounded out onto the walkway leading up to the Phelp's townhouse. The butler pulled the door open at once and greeted him. Levi presented his card and asked to speak with Miss Phelps.

  “I'm afraid Miss Phelps is getting ready to depart. You will have to call at another time, Your Grace,” the elderly man said politely.

  Feeling dejected, Levi turned to leave when he heard a feminine voice call out behind him. “Call him back, Baldemorrow. He's precisely who I wish to see at the moment.”

  Levi turned and cursed under his breath as his eyes beheld the vixen who had turned his life upside down. Dressed in a cerulean blue walking gown, Lydia looked fetching. Her face was paler than normal but that only made her vivid, sea green eyes stand out in greater contrast, drawing him in when he wished they wouldn't.

  Baldemorrow opened the door wider as Miss Phelps stalked towards Levi. “Funny thing, I was actually on my way to visit you.”

  His heart skipped a beat as he asked hopefully, “You were?”

  He knew she hadn't planned on it being a courteous visit when her eyes flashed with anger. “I should thank you for saving me the trip, though I find this rather inconvenient.”

  “How so? You wished to speak to me, therefore, I find my presence here quite convenient.”

  Lydia looked at him for a moment, and he could tell she was trying to formulate a plan. In an attempt to get him alone for a minute, she turned to Baldemorrow and said, “Go fetch Helen for me. I have no idea what is taking her so long.”

  With nothing more than a mild look of irritation, Baldemorrow went to do as she bid. Once they were alone, she turned back to Levi and hissed, “I can't believe you dare show yourself here after the hideous rumors you are spreading about me.”

  “Me? What about the ridiculous rumors you have spread yourself? Telling the world that I proposed to you and that you turned me down so I will appear the fool.”

  Lydia inhaled sharply. “I've said no such thing. Why have you gone around telling people that I make men fall in love with me simply to teach them a lesson?”

  “I hate to disappoint you, my dear, but I don't speak of you to anyone. I hardly even think about you,” he lied.

  He turned his head away from hers but could still feel her piercing gaze upon him. “I'm quite the opposite. I find I can't stop thinking about you.” His head snapped back to hers, and he searched her eyes with a measure of hope. She continued, dashing what little hope he possessed, “I can't stop thinking about how much I hate you, Levi Worthington, about how much you have ruined my life. I vow I will find a way to make you pay if it's the last thing I do.”

  Lydia reached up and gripped the door as if she were about to shut it in his face. Levi grabbed her wrist and held it firmly in his grasp, despite her protests. “I'm already paying for my association with you, Miss Phelps.”

  “Why do you hate me so?” she hissed, causing him to laugh mirthlessly.

  “I could ask you the same thing, but I fear your butler and maid will return any minute and interrupt us.”

  “Not if we make it quick. I will go first. There are several reasons I hate you, Levi, but I can sum it up by telling you that you've broken my heart beyond repair.”

  “I wasn't aware you had one.”

  He wanted to kick himself for his snide remark when her face fell, and her eyes turned sad. She tried once more to pull her hand free from his grip and this time he let her. She rubbed her wrist with her other hand, and he wondered if he had hurt her.

  “That's the crux of the problem, Your Grace,” she said softly, barely above a whisper, “You've strung me along this entire time, branding me with your kisses, all the while assuming I have no heart. Well, let me inform you that I do. However, you've taught me I cannot rely on a man to protect it, I must do so myself. So leave, Levi, go find some other woman to ruin and let me forget about you completely.”

  Her words stung and he felt the need to apologize, to explain his actions to her, but she wasted no time slamming the door in his face, taking the opportunity away from him.

  “Oh what a coil you're in, Lydia.”

  It must have been the twelfth time her best friend, Alexandra, had voiced the sentiment that night and it was grating on Lydia's nerves.

  “Stop saying I'm in a coil,” she snapped irritably. “A coil is something one can get themselves out of. I'm afraid there's no way to undo this mess I find myself in.”

  She was referring to her engagement to Lord Whitworth. Tonight, Alexandra was throwing her a celebratory dinner in honor of the despised engagement. Feeling ungrateful, Lydia added, “I don't know why you've insisted we celebrate this event. I feel like it would be more appropriate for me to go into mourning.”

  They were currently conversing in Alexandra's private sitting room, away from Lydia's parents and Alexandra's husband. Alexandra went and sat on the settee next to Lydia and explained slowly, “Yes, you've made that more than clear. However, unless you want the rest of the ton to suspect the reason for your engagement is because you were ruined, we need to go forward acting as if you have reason to celebrate.”

  “I don't give a fig what the ton thinks,” she spat, knowing they already assumed the worst of her anyway.

  “Perhaps that's true, but your parents do. If nothing else, Lydia, go through the motions for them. Besides, do I ne
ed to remind you that you were the one who brought this on yourself?” Alexandra asked, her face looking less than amused. “I warned you that your plan was foolish. By the way, who was the man you were trying to teach a lesson to that fateful night?”

  Lydia stiffened. Then, to avoid looking into Alexandra's eyes, stood up and went to the full-length mirror in the corner of the room and began inspecting her appearance. She was wearing a gown of puce silk, trimmed with delicate ivory lace. Her wavy hair had been painfully curled and artfully arranged atop her head with a thin piece of ivory ribbon woven throughout. She presented a good appearance, despite feeling so horrendous inside.

  “Do you simply wish to ignore me?” Alexandra called out across the room.

  “Does it matter who he was now?” she called back.

  “Maybe not in the big picture of things, but as your best friend, I must admit I'm curious.”

  “You wouldn't believe me if I told you.”

  “Try me.”

  Lydia twisted her hands together, debating whether she should finally be honest with Alexandra. Knowing nothing would ever come of it now, she decided to tell her. “I was trying to prove a point to Levi.”

  Alexandra choked. “Pardon? Did I hear you right? It was my brother you were trying to make jealous?”

  “I wasn't trying to make him jealous, simply teach him a lesson.”

  Alexandra's exotic brown eyes widened curiously. “And what sort of lesson was that? I'm quite certain he already knew you were a fool.”

  Lydia slumped into a chair opposite Alexandra and frowned. “I should never have told you. I knew you wouldn't understand.”

  “I may not understand, but I want to. Please explain yourself better so I can,” Alexandra urged, trying to be more sympathetic.

  “I've wanted to get back at Levi ever since that night he caught us dressed as boys. He propositioned me that night, after you galloped off. He swore he wouldn't tell my father what I had done if I gave him a kiss instead.”

  Alexandra snorted. “Tell me you didn't kiss him.”