The Enigmatic Rake. Anne O'Brien

Papa sent him there until the gossip died down, refusing to pay any further debts unless he complied and put his life in order. It was the talk of every withdrawing room in town. I think that might have been the final straw for Mama, to hear the whispering come to a halt every time she entered a room. So Mama prefers it when he makes his home in Paris. Although,’ Judith confided, finally, ‘she had not entirely given up on the thought of his remarriage to reform his wicked ways. Although who would agree to marry him, I cannot imagine. Even though he is very rich, most mamas of hopeful débutantes would not willingly look for the connection.’

      ‘I can well understand,’ Sarah agreed in lively horror and some degree of fascination.

      ‘So, you see, Sher acquired the reputation as a rake and something of a ne’er-do-well. I think perhaps he did not deserve it. He was very young.’ Judith’s pretty lips pursed as she tried for an honest judgement on her brother. ‘I am extremely fond of him. But there was also the scandal of the ladies of the chorus at Covent Garden!’

      ‘Really?’ Sarah found the recital riveting. ‘More than one? I had thought that all Faringdons had an eye to propriety.’

      ‘Not Joshua. He has an eye to every pretty member of the female sex.’ Judith sighed. ‘I shall say no more! Except to suggest that you might—indeed you might—be advised to reconsider your application for a position in his household.’

      Sarah laughed and reassured her, knowing that as housekeeper her path would rarely cross with that of her noble employer. How Lord Joshua Faringdon might choose to live his life would have nothing whatsoever to do with her and have no bearing on her own duties in his establishment. But Judith’s artless confidences left her to consider that she was not the only one to have a brother in the form of a skeleton in the family closet. She chewed her bottom lip thoughtfully. And that Faringdon skeleton was now her employer.

      Two days later Judith’s reluctant acceptance of Sarah Russell’s new status had undergone a sea change. On receipt of a letter from Paris, she was indeed prepared to say more, and did so unequivocally on running Sarah to ground in the private garden at the centre of Grosvenor Square where, despite the blustery weather, she threw a ball for John to chase and catch.

      ‘Sarah! I have just received a letter from my brother. I am entirely convinced that you should not take up the position in his house.’ The fact that the letter was remarkably frank and detailed had given her only a moment’s pause. If she had known how painstakingly Lord Joshua had constructed it, how much time he had spent in plotting the scandalous content, and how much he was prepared to gamble on his flighty sister’s inability to remain silent when in possession of a delicious piece of scandal, she would have been astounded. But she did not know any of these things and so jumped to the hoped-for conclusion. Presumably Sher did not care one jot about the comment that he was about to provoke in London. He was entirely without principle and honour, despite his birth and upbringing as a gentleman. As a Faringdon! It all went to prove that Sarah should not find herself in the role of housekeeper in the resulting den of iniquity.

      ‘Why on earth not? What can he have said?’ Sarah handed the ball to the nursemaid who accompanied her and joined Judith on one of the wrought-iron seats, which provided some limited degree of comfort and shelter from the wind. The day was too cool for them to sit long.

      Judith did not reply directly, but allowed her thoughts on her brother to develop. ‘I had thought that with age his lifestyle might be less rackety. After Marianne’s death I had thought he was a little sad. And he has a daughter to consider, of course … But it is not so. He is as irresponsible as he ever was.’ She frowned down at the closely written sheets that she still clutched in her hand as if she might detect the reason for her brother’s outrageous manner by absorption from the paper and ink.

      ‘More scandal?’ Sarah enquired.

      ‘Scandal! Sher has written to tell me the reason for his return. I am not surprised that he did not tell Mama!’

      Sarah merely tilted her head in enquiry.

      ‘It seems that he has suffered some injury. Caused by the husband of the lady whom he …’ she leaned close and whispered sotto voce ‘… the lady whom he was intent on seducing. That gentleman was unfortunate enough to discover Sher and his … his most recent flirt in a secluded anteroom at a reception at the British Embassy where they were … Well, I am sure you can imagine—but the gentleman was irate—there was some violence—and the result is a terrible scandal in Paris. As well as being physically incapacitated, Sher is not being received. So has decided to return to London until another on dit takes its place and he will be accepted again.’

      ‘He told you that?’ Sarah could not imagine a brother regaling his sister with such salacious detail. Clearly he had.

      ‘Yes. I did think … I wonder why? But perhaps he thought that news would spread and lose nothing in the telling—so he would tell me the truth first.’

      ‘I suppose.’ Sarah hid her doubts—could the gossip be worse then the truth?—but decided that perhaps the reason for the detailed letter was irrelevant.

      ‘Furthermore—’ anger now flashed in Judith’s eyes and her voice began to rise, regardless of the proximity of the nursemaid ‘—he informs me that he will be bringing with him to London none other than the Countess of Wexford. Would you believe it!’

      Sarah remained complacent enough. ‘I think I do not know the lady.’

      ‘Of course not. No one of good ton would claim to know the Countess of Wexford!’ Bristling with disgust, Judith abandoned the letter and snapped her parasol into place as a stray sunbeam slanted across the garden. ‘I expect that you will not have crossed her path. She is a lady of considerable presence and … and questionable morals. Rumour says that her origins are not what they might be. Merchant class from Dublin.’ Judith wrinkled her nose. ‘But she is quite lovely, a widow, titled and with enough wealth to take her place in polite society. She is accepted by everyone except the highest sticklers—you can meet her anywhere, but she would never achieve tickets of admission for Almack’s. It is generally accepted that she is on the hunt for a lover or a husband. I presume she is Joshua’s mistress! And, would you believe, will be living in the house with him in Hanover Square.’

      ‘Oh! She will?’ Lord Faringdon’s new housekeeper did not know what she felt about this revelation, but still decided that, in truth, it would have little bearing on her own position.

      The Countess of Painscastle thought no such thing. ‘Indeed, Sarah, it is not suitable for you to take on the running of that house. I would even go so far as to forbid it!’

      ‘Judith …’ Sarah sighed as she watched her son’s limitless energy as he dashed about the garden. ‘Your care for me overwhelms me—but I really do not see why I should not take the post. If Lord Faringdon takes the Countess of Wexford as his mistress, it will make no difference to my position in organising the smooth running of the house or in my appointment as governess to his daughter. And if your brother does not intend to remain here in London any longer than the brief life of the scandal in Paris—then I do not see the problem. Perhaps he will continue to employ me as governess when he leaves, if he approves my work. Presumably the child will then return to Richmond and I could go there with her. My reputation is in no danger, Judith. I see no problem.’

      ‘It will not be a respectable establishment, Sarah! That will be the problem! And although I hate to admit it, my brother appears to have abandoned all honour and principles expected of a gentleman. To have the Countess of Wexford living with him under the same roof. It is quite disgraceful. I am sure that you take my meaning. I hesitate to say this about my own brother, but you may not be safe in such a household.’

      Sarah did understand, all too clearly, but knew with a lowering of spirits that her friend’s concern was not necessary. In a perverse manner, she almost found herself wishing that it was, that she was sufficiently beautiful and desirable to attract the attentions of a notorious rake. There was never any hope of that—not even when she was a young girl. When she looked in her mirror, she accepted what she saw there. Her fair