The Promise

by V J Dunraven

  “Of course.” Jeremy raised his shoulders and gestured with his hands. “What else is there? I could hardly believe that men would be charmed by the way a lady poured tea or wore a ball gown. Honestly, I prefer them in my bed—naked.”

  Richard chuckled and shook his head with an exasperated sigh. Jeremy would always be Jeremy. Nothing much ever interested him in women but for that.

  ”So—who is she, then?” Allayne cut in with earnestness. “Pray, do tell!”

  “That’s just it.” Richard drained his glass before he answered, “I don’t even know her name.”

  “Balderdash!” Jeremy exclaimed and looked at him as if he’d lost his mind. “You’ve met her—but you didn’t remember to ask who she was?”

  “Of course I did, you dolt!” Richard snapped his brows together in irritation. “What do you think I am, an idiot?”

  “Most of the time.” Jeremy grinned.

  “Wait—” Allayne raised both hands. “The sense in all this escapes me. Where exactly did you meet this chit?”

  “Well, I first saw her at Almack’s. Not only is she beautiful, but she is intelligent too. She was holding court with the most impressive group of men I have ever seen.”

  “Now that’s novel.” Allayne looked bewildered. “I didn’t think you’d be attracted to a quick-witted chit. I—well—Lady Desiree certainly didn’t come across to me as the sharpest knife in the block when we went to see her after we arrived from Europe. Pray, do excuse my bluntness.”

  “Don’t trouble yourself.” Richard lifted his shoulders. “I know what you mean. I never thought it would matter, but after spending an entire humdrum week with Desiree, I realized it did. And when I saw her—this girl—sparring with the brightest members of parliament—”

  “You found a way to introduce yourself to her.” Jeremy crossed his arms over his chest.

  “Well, yes—but she gave me the cut direct–twice, would you believe it? She was angry at me for some reason. But I couldn’t rest until I saw her again so I attended one of the most popular events of the season, the Libbey’s Masquerade, with the hope of finding her there.”

  “And did you find her?” Allayne asked.

  “Yes. I danced with her and she knew who I was. I asked for her name and if I could see her again, but then, the waltz ended.”

  “And she left you standing in the middle of the dance floor without telling you her name?” Jeremy said.

  “Yes—but not before she requested a tryst by the fountain in the gardens outside.”

  “My God!” Allayne exclaimed. “How utterly risqué and romantic!”

  “More like excessively provocative and idiotic!” Jeremy smirked while mentally cursing in all the languages he knew, as Richard protested that it was not what they thought at all. The meeting never came to fruition because he had gotten lost in the Libbey’s vast gardens and when he finally found the fountain, the lady never showed. Either that, or he had completely misunderstood her instructions.

  Jeremy need not hear any more of Richard’s account of what had happened next or who the lady in question was. He knew perfectly well what had transpired—and at the moment, he wanted to wring a certain brat’s neck. The little twit! Had she lost her senses? Luckily, he was there, waiting for her to bring the soap powder at that particular fountain, instead of Richard! She could have ruined herself in the hands of a soon-to-be married man!

  ”Richard.” Jeremy nodded in the direction of the large gathering of men not too far away from them. It seemed to him that the only solution available to resolve this problem was to give both of them a much deserved jolt in their pudding-filled heads. “Why don’t you say hello to Cassie?”

  ”Cassie?” Richard suddenly broke into a grin. “She’s here? I haven’t seen her even once since my return!”

  ”Yes,” Allayne said in a nonchalant tone, but Jeremy caught the reproachful look he darted at him. “Come, let me take you to her. She would be delighted to see you.”

  Richard followed Allayne and Jeremy, feeling the excitement of seeing Cassie again after all these years. Though he was not a letter-writing sort of fellow, she nonetheless faithfully sent him numerous correspondences while he was still in school and abroad, and they were his most favorite things to receive. Sometimes, when he felt terribly homesick, he would re-read her letters and laugh at the stories of her latest antics with Jeremy.

  He had looked forward to coming back three and a half years ago, but then his father had announced his agreement with his friend, the Duke of Glenford, for him to marry Glenford’s daughter. Ah, he may have been infatuated with Desiree when he met her, but his father’s heavy-handedness in controlling his future had angered him and he had wanted to rebel against the old man. So, he fled to Europe on a whim—as a means of escape. Cassie’s letters and Allayne, had thankfully accompanied him during those long years of exile, when all he did was pursue his painting and drown himself in vice when the longing for home was beyond what he could bear.

  Richard nodded at a few acquaintances as they squeezed through the crowd, which included the Earl of Bristol and the Duke of Kingston who were standing with the other men. He was more than elated—he fairly thrummed with the anticipation of seeing his childhood friend.

  Cassie meant home to him. The embodiment of everything important that he had been forced to leave. She was the sunrise, the sea, the heavens above, and the fresh, salty breeze. She was laughter and innocence, and all things true, where troubles were far away and joy was all there was to share.

  Yes—to him, Cassie was the heart of home. The place he had always wanted to be; the kind of life he had always wanted to live.

  “Ah, here we are.” Allayne leaned forward and placed his hands on the shoulders of a lady with her back to him, slowly turning her around with a kiss on the cheek.

  Richard waited patiently behind Allayne as they exchanged greetings, anticipating the surprise on Cassie’s face when she saw him.

  Finally, Allayne turned aside and urged Richard closer. “Cassie, you do remember Richard, don’t you?”

  Richard stepped forward with a big grin on his lips, then froze, as the stunning lady with hair the color of rose gold slowly turned her gaze and laid large, curly-lashed emerald green eyes on him. The pudgy cheeks, freckles and plumpness he remembered, were all gone. The woman who stood in front of him was slender with full breasts, deliciously rounded hips, a narrow waist that he could span with both hands, and a face that could have belonged to an angel. She was the same woman he had cornered in the alcove at Almacks’, and waltzed with at the masquerade.

  ”Piglet?” he blurted without thinking, belatedly regretting the volume with which he had uttered the word, which had consequently garnered the other men’s attention.

  Her smile vanished and her cheeks went red, as the conversation around them halted and everyone settled into an awkward silence. Her humiliation seemed to shine like a beacon from every part of her body for a moment. Then, a wicked gleam flashed in her narrowed eyes and she gave him a sly smile, replying at a decibel that carried her voice clearly across the room, “Well, hello again, tiny Dick!”

  Chapter 13

  The Templeton Soiree (Part 2)

  One Minute Later

  Jeremy could not quite fathom what to make of the entire blasted scenario. He had meant for this reunion to unravel the dilemma of the two nitwits involved, but instead, both had managed to muddle what he had planned.

  Richard had just tactlessly called Cassie a baby piggy and Cassie retaliated by announcing his cock was stumpy. Then, Allayne had choked on the champagne he had been drinking, and spewed it, of all people—at the immaculate Duke of Kingston’s brocade waistcoat in gold and burgundy.

  And as if that weren’t enough, hard-of-hearing Lord Bhramby elbowed to the front and demanded to know if Cassie had said, tiny
tick or tiny prick—or was it tickly prick?

  Devil be dammed! Jeremy rubbed his chin as he assessed how he could salvage the rapidly deteriorating situation. What was a rakehell to do?

  At present, Richard and Cassie were glaring at each other fiercely, neither willing to back down, while Allayne was on his knees before the duke, frantically wiping his waistcoat—which appeared somewhat perverted and abominably lewd.

  It did not help either that Richard had chosen that exact moment to stir the already overflowing pot and rise to Cassie’s god-awful taunt.

  “Believe me, my lady—but there’s nothing tiny about me,” he stated boldly, straightening his spine to his full height, as if demonstrating to the public how long, tall and well-built he was, so that one might suppose that his cock was constructed likewise.

  Cassie colored to a deeper scarlet, but not to be outdone, blurted, “Well my lord, if you insist, then—we’ll just have to see.” she dropped her eyes to his groin and lifted a daring eyebrow.

  Silence settled once again into the crowd.

  Jeremy rolled his eyes heavenward to ask for guidance from above. He wasn’t a religious person and he was quite sure God held him responsible for all the sins that blackened his soul. But if the Almighty could just set aside their grudge for a while and help him fix this fiasco for once, there could not be a better time for Divine intervention than right now. Jeremy awaited in bated breath for the Lord’s prophesy to materialize.

  And it came—in the form of a blonde, blue-eyed goddess which was not exactly what he had in mind, but would certainly do for the moment.

  “Darling, I’ve been looking all over for you,” she said in a melodic, cock-titillating voice. “What are you doing here?”

  When Richard did not give her an immediate reply, hard-of-hearing Lord Bhramby volunteered to enlighten the beautiful, but self-important lady by holding a quizzing glass against an eye and lowering it to examine Richard’s crotch. “Miss Carlyle was just saying that Lord Radcliffe couldn’t pee. How queer, don’t you think, my dear?”

  A barrage of muffled laughter emanated from the avidly attentive, eavesdropping crowd.

  Lady Desiree lifted a haughty, well-groomed flaxen brow and darted her eyes between Richard and Cassie, before regarding the latter from head to toe with obvious disdain. “You must be Richard’s childhood friend. Miss Cassie, is it? Goodness!” her hand lifted and alighted on her abundantly endowed bosom. “How suitably amusing—you even possess a child-like name!” She tilted her head in sardonic laughter.

  Jeremy saw Cassie’s eyes narrow and wished he had been more specific with his request for help from the Lord God Almighty. Next time—and he hoped there won’t be another one, he would mention that he’d rather have the devil come to his aid than have a beauty with a maggot-infested brain.

  “Am I correct in assuming you’re Lady Desiree?” Cassie replied without blinking.

  “Precisely.” The flaxen brow rose condescendingly once again. “One hardly forgets a memorable name like mine.”

  “I most certainly agree,” Cassie nodded with a suspiciously artificial grin. “As a matter of fact, I have a goat named Desiree.”

  “Bhaaaaa!” Jeremy heard Allayne cachinnate from somewhere behind him.

  Another round of choked guffaws and snorting effused from their enthralled audience.

  The practiced smile congealed on Lady Desiree’s lips and a look of outrage replaced her well-rehearsed aristocratic façade.

  “Cassandra, is everything all right my dear?” Lady Carlyle emerged from the throng with her husband in tow.

  Jeremy pinched the bridge of his nose and shook his head. Of all the temporal order of things in the world, why must Lady Carlyle be punctual at his particular point in time?

  ”Everything is perfectly fine, Mama. I was just giving Lady Desiree a most stimulating account about my goat. You know—the golden-furred one that constantly craved attention from the billy goats in the pasture and had a penchant to have her—uhm—her—”

  “Arse,” Jeremy supplied instinctively and wondered what in Hades was wrong with him for condoning Cassie with this odious display in public.

  “That’s precisely the word,” Cassie continued as if they were having a conversation about the weather over a cup of tea. “She did have a peculiar fixation on getting her—ahem—arse licked by the billy goats. You do remember that one, right, Papa?”

  “Whatever you say, pumpkin,” her papa declared proudly.

  “George Carlyle!” her mama’s eyes practically popped out of their sockets.

  “Bhaaaaa!” Someone from the crowd who resembled their host, the Earl of Templeton, bleated loudly.

  The long-suffering, tautly repressed spectators eagerly joined the Earl with relief and launched into a noisy bleating herd of cattle.

  “My lady, if you would forgive my daughter’s indelicacy,” Lady Carlyle sputtered amidst the commotion.

  “Indelicacy?” Lady Desiree’s mouth tightened into a thin line. “Your daughter, madam, has insulted me beyond measure! Clearly, you have not brought her up to snuff with what is expected of a young lady! But I bear no regret, for now, the crème of the ton had seen her most insolent behavior. I daresay that no sane gentleman would be temerarious enough to pay court to her!”

  “Pray do hold your tongue, Desiree!” Richard bit out with a warning glare at his betrothed.

  Hell, Jeremy exhaled in disgust as he watched Cassie’s expression change, her hand forming into a fist on her side. He had better get his posterior over there before she planted a colossal shiner on the dimwitted chit’s eye.

  He placed a hand on her arm just in time, as she lifted it to do exactly what he had thought she would do. After a discreet shake of his head and a quelling look directed at his little brat, he turned his attention to the belligerent fair maiden.

  “Lady Desiree,” he drawled in his deep bedroom voice, bestowing her with a heart-stopping, pantalette-dropping smile. “I don’t believe we’ve been formally introduced. Jeremiah Devlin Huntington, Marquess of Waterford.” his dark eyes not leaving hers, he brought her gloved hand to his lips and instead of kissing it, he bit her knuckle lightly and winked.

  Lady Desiree blushed into a healthy shade of rose and fluttered her lashes at him, seeming to forget her outburst just a few moments ago.

  Jeremy proceeded to regard her with a syrupy, steamy, heavy-lidded gaze, ignoring Richard who seemed more fascinated with Cassie than his betrothed. Ah, he could not blame the poor old chap for letting his cock lead him by the nose. Lady Desiree certainly more than made up for the lack of a functioning brain with her ample breasts and delectable derriere that he’d happily lick if he were a billy goat.

  As the goddess before him showed signs of pleasure under his blatantly salacious scrutiny, Jeremy decided it was time for him to deliver the ax. “Forgive me, my lady, but I could not help overhear your tirade against Miss Carlyle.” he glanced at Cassie who was scowling at Richard. “I beg to disagree with your forthright judgment of her character. In fact, all these perfectly sane gentlemen here are besotted with her charms and are paying her the most ardent suit.”

  Lady Desiree tossed her head with an arch of an imperious eyebrow and laughed, commanding the attention of their audience once again. “How honorable of you to come to Miss Carlyle’s defense, Lord Waterford. But do any of these gentlemen truly have the gall to offer for her hand?”

  A brief silence ensued. The wench was right. After Cassie’s colorful reference to Richard’s allegedly Lilliputian genitalia, she had inadvertently provoked the ton and damaged her sterling reputation.

  Jeremy pondered for a moment. This situation seriously demanded his clever ingenuity to reach a satisfactory resolution. Would the scheme he’d been toying around in his head succeed in redeeming his little brat’s honor?


  A slow, self-satisfied, crooked smile formed on his lips. “My dear Lady Desiree, you’ve put me in an awkward predicament. But I confess—I am delighted, so I might as well take the opportunity.” he wrapped an arm around Cassie’s waist, pulling her to his side and successfully prying her attention from Richard.

  She turned to him with a questioning gaze.

  He looked into her eyes and took a deep breath. “Ladies and Gentlemen,” he began, his eyes never leaving hers, “let it be known that I have asked for Miss Carlyle’s hand in marriage and she has accepted.” He swiftly cupped her face in his hands and kissed her on the mouth in front of everyone, before she got the chance to realize what he’d done and dismember him on the spot.

  Shocked murmurs filled the ballroom. From the corner of his eye, he caught Richard’s stunned expression, Allayne’s open-mouthed stare and Lady Carlyle drop into a cross-eyed swoon, conveniently—as always, into her husband’s arms.

  Good God, what a pickle! he thought, as he gently pulled away and smiled into his newly betrothed’s mortified face.

  Chapter 14

  The Newly Betrothed

  Waterford House

  Mayfair, London

  If Jeremy Huntington believed his scheme at the Templeton Soiree was the handiwork of a genius, well, he had most definitely changed his high opinion of himself a mere ten minutes later.

  A dangerous and murderous Allayne had dragged him with the entire family to his carriage, hissing something about an urgent private meeting through clenched teeth. Once inside, Allayne ordered the coachman to take them to nearby Waterford House, after which everyone hollered their respective opinions about this unexpected situation at the same time, save for Cassie who had looked out the window and ignored the pandemonium with a resigned sigh.

  Then, as soon as they entered the Waterford House library, Allayne picked him up by the collar and well-nigh guillotined him with an asphyxiating twist on the knot of his cravat before demanding an explanation, while Lady Carlyle had gone into hysterics in the middle of the room. Her husband, on the other hand—thank God for his cheerful demeanor—settled onto a fat chair to enjoy his stock of excellent port, perfectly content to watch the drama unfold.