The Valet Who Loved Me

by Valerie Bowman

  “Yes,” Lady Julianna replied, turning to face Marianne once again. “Speaking of Lord Bellingham, we’ve come to tell you that he has been beside himself, trying to find you, and we’d like your permission to tell him where you are.”

  Chapter Forty-One

  Beau was sitting behind the desk in his study. He’d moved the brandy decanter—mostly there for show or for the occasional guest—to the desk in front of him, along with a glass.

  He’d been staring at the liquid for the better part of an hour, but he was no closer to deciding whether to take a drink. The only thing he knew was that he’d never been more tempted to do so in his entire life.

  He’d nearly torn London apart the last two days, looking for Marianne. First, he’d gone to Clayton’s house to visit her brother. David had no longer been dressed as a solider, and he was considerably cleaner and less bruised than the last time Beau had seen him. The earl had cleaned up quite well, actually. He’d looked to be no more than Beau’s own age. Beau was nothing but pleased to see the captain looking so hearty.

  Beau was finally able to see the resemblance to Marianne as well. While the new earl had dark brown hair and no freckles to speak of, he had Marianne’s bright blue eyes and dark lashes. And the smile he’d afforded Beau when he’d walked into Clayton’s study was reminiscent of his sister’s.

  But David had been ridiculously loyal to her, refusing to tell Beau where she was, even when he explained that he was in love with her and wanted to ask her to marry him. David had promised to tell her that Beau wanted to see her, but Beau had left Clayton’s house nearly frustrated enough to punch his fist through the bloody stone wall out front.

  Next, he’d gone to see Grimaldi again. The general knew exactly where she was, Beau had no doubt. Grim, however, was even less forthcoming than David had been. At least David had appeared chagrined and apologetic when he informed Beau that he would not be able to help him. Grim seemed to enjoy his anguish.

  “If one of my very best spies cannot locate one woman in London, I’m not certain I want to know about it,” Grim had said with a wry smile.

  Beau had left the general’s office, wanting to punch his fist through the general’s face.

  Beau had gone to every pub, every club, and every meeting place he could think of in an attempt to hear gossip that might lead him to Marianne. The entire ton was ablaze with the news that the Earl of Elmwood’s heir was back and that he had a sister. The entire city seemed to be talking about Marianne, but no one seemed to know where she was. It was maddening.

  He’d even sent a letter to Lady Wilhelmina, but in addition to indicating her shock that her former lady’s maid was an earl’s sister, Wilhelmina was also at a loss as to her location.

  Finally, last night, Beau had arrived at Worth’s town house where Julianna, Frances, and Kendall were visiting. Beau had slumped into a chair in the salon where they all sat and declared defeat. “Why doesn’t anyone know where she is? How can that be?” he groaned, burying his face in his hand.

  “Someone knows,” Julianna had said. “It’s simply a matter of speaking to the right people.”

  “Well, all the people I’ve spoken to either don’t know or aren’t telling,” Beau had grumbled.

  Julianna and Frances had exchanged a glance, but Beau had barely noticed. He’d picked himself up and dragged himself back to his own town house, where he finally fell into an exhausted slumber.

  Today, he’d done nothing more than sit in his study and stare at the bloody brandy decanter.

  Slowly, he raised his hand to remove the glass stopper, when a knock at the door startled him. “My lord,” came his butler’s voice. “You have two visitors.”

  “You may open the door, Maxwell,” Beau replied, hastily pushing the decanter and the glass to the side.

  The door to the study opened and his butler stepped inside.

  “Who are the visitors?” Beau asked, clearing his throat.

  “Lady Julianna Montgomery and Miss Frances Wharton,” Maxwell replied.

  Beau frowned. “They’re alone?”

  “Their chaperones are with them, if that’s what you mean,” the butler replied.

  “Show them in,” Beau replied.

  Minutes later, Julianna and Frances appeared in the doorway sans chaperones. They’d apparently left the two older women in one of the salons at the front of the house.

  “Ah, there you are, Lord Bellingham,” Frances said.

  Beau glanced up at Frances, remembering the morning he’d told her a story about Kendall in Clayton’s library. He liked the young woman a great deal. She was a pretty, spirited brunette, who was set on helping Kendall introduce new bills into the House of Lords for the benefit of the working classes. Beau didn’t hold her father’s sins against her at all.

  Next, his gaze swung to Lady Julianna. She was a gorgeous blond with perfect manners and a prestigious family name. She also happened to be the only other person in the world who seemed as stubborn and competitive as his friend Worth. The two made a perfect couple.

  “It’s good to see both of you,” Beau replied.

  The two ladies took seats in front of him. “I’ve never been invited into a study before,” Frances said, glancing around. “I quite like it. May I have some brandy, my lord?”

  Beau gave her an ironic stare. “For some reason, I don’t think you came here to drink brandy with me.”

  “Perhaps not,” Julianna replied with a sigh, “but I’m not opposed to it.”

  Frances laughed. “Let’s put the poor man out of his misery, Julianna.”

  Julianna sighed again. “Very well, if we must.” But the wide grin on her face belied the content of her words.

  Frances leaned forward, a sly smile on her face. “We’ve come with some news that we think you may be quite interested in hearing, Lord Bellingham.”

  Beau shrugged. “I’m not interested in much at the moment, but go ahead.”

  The two exchanged a knowing glance.

  “Well,” Beau prompted, narrowing his eyes on them. “What is it?”

  Julianna took a deep breath. “We know where Lady Marianne is staying, and we’ve received her blessing to tell you.”

  Beau shot to his feet. “You know where Marianne is?” His heart was thumping so hard it hurt.

  “Yes,” Frances said with a nod and a laugh.

  “She wants to see me?” Beau nearly shouted.

  “We never said that. But she agreed to allow us to inform you of where she is. If you want to take that news and pay her a visit, that is entirely your choice,” Frances replied with a wink.

  Beau nearly leaped across the desk. “Where is she?”

  The ladies exchanged another glance.

  “She’s staying at Lady Courtney’s house in Hanover Square.”

  “The devil she is. God, why didn’t I think of that? I’m obviously a rubbish spy.”

  “No. You’re not a rubbish spy. You’re a man in love and you’re not thinking clearly,” Julianna replied.

  “There is that, too,” Beau replied with a laugh. “But I must ask, how did you find out so quickly?”

  Julianna and Frances exchanged a third glance.

  “If you want to learn something from gossip, you don’t ask men,” Julianna replied, a sweet smile on her face.

  “Fair enough.” Beau shook his head, but he was already making his way toward the door. “You’ll excuse me if I tell you I must go now.”

  The two ladies laughed.

  “We rather expected you’d cut our visit short,” Frances replied.

  He grinned at them. “Thank you for telling me, ladies. I consider you both friends.”

  “As we do you, Lord Bellingham,” Frances said. “As we do you.”

  Not half an hour later, Beau was rapping steadily on the door to Lady Courtney’s town house. A cold November wind had whipped up, but he barely noticed the temperature.

  A confused-looking butler opened the door to see what all the commotion
was about.

  “I’m Lord Bellingham, here to visit Lady Marianne Ellsworth,” he said in a rush.

  “She’s not here, my lord,” the butler informed him.

  “The devil she’s not,” Beau began, quite ready to knock down the bloody door if he had to. “I have it on good authority that she’s staying here.”

  “No. I mean she’s not here at the moment. She and Lady Courtney went for a ride in the park.”

  “Rotten Row?” Beau asked the man.

  “Indeed,” the butler replied.

  Beau didn’t waste another moment. He swiveled on his heel, ran down the steps, jumped on his horse, and took off hell-for-leather toward Hyde Park.

  He made it to the park in minutes, and began racing up and down the crowded Rotten Row, that fashionable stretch of road where the ton’s best displayed themselves each evening.

  Blast. Blast. Blast. How would he ever find her in such a throng? Coach after coach was filled with occupants bundled up in blankets and coats. He could hardly tell who anyone was.

  Finally, he stopped in the middle of the roadway. “Lady Marianne!” he called in the loudest voice he could muster. “Lady Marianne Ellsworth!”

  The occupants of the nearby coaches began leaning out to stare at him.

  “Has Bellingham lost his mind?” he heard one coach-dweller say.

  “Who is Marianne Ellsworth?” he heard another ask.

  He galloped farther down the road. “Lady Marianne! Lady Marianne Ellsworth!”

  “For heaven’s sake,” he heard a lady’s voice say. “Stop that caterwauling. She and Lady Courtney are in the coach with four grays, a few back.”

  Heart in his throat, Beau spurred his mount forward until he found the coach in question. “Lady Marianne?” he called, hoping against hope the woman hadn’t been mistaken.

  Bright blue eyes blinked at him from the window of the coach, and a relief unlike any he’d felt before flooded through him. He’d found her. After all these weeks, he’d finally found her.

  Lady Courtney’s coach pulled out of the procession and came to a stop a few yards ahead. He jumped from his horse and tied the animal to a nearby post before running across the roadway, dodging carriages and mounts.

  The door to Lady Courtney’s carriage opened just as he approached.

  “Was that you shouting, Bellingham?” Lady Courtney asked. “We were trying to have a civilized ride in the park. Lady Marianne here doesn’t need any scandal attached to her name. Now look what you’ve done.”

  Beau glanced back momentarily to see that the entire early evening’s procession along Rotten Row had stopped, and the coaches’ occupants were staring at them as if they were acting out a play. He was indeed causing a scene, but at the moment he didn’t give a damn.

  “My apologies, Lady Courtney,” Beau said, his gaze meeting Marianne’s startled one. “But I couldn’t wait another moment to say what I have to say to Lady Marianne.”

  Lady Courtney hid her smile. “Very well, lad. Go ahead and say it.”

  “Will you come out and meet me?” Beau asked Marianne, his heart in his throat. “Please.”

  Marianne nodded and he helped her to alight.

  The moment she’d stepped onto the ground, Beau dropped to one knee. “I know you’re the sister of an earl—I couldn’t care any less. I love you, Marianne. I should have asked you to marry me the night you left me in France, but I was a bloody fool. Please, say you’ll be my wife.”

  “Excellent decision,” Lady Courtney snorted from inside the coach.

  Marianne’s face filled with worry. “You’re truly not just asking me because of the change in my status?”

  “I promise you, darling. I’d ask you if you were a washer woman in the street. I don’t care about the scandal.” He glanced back at the line of stopped carriages. “Does it look like I care about scandal?”

  Marianne had to laugh at that. “David told me you came looking for me. And so did Julianna and Frances.”

  “Yes, and if you ask Kendall and Worth, they’ll tell you I said I wanted to marry you even before Kendall informed me that your brother was an earl.”

  “I believe him, Marianne,” Lady Courtney announced from inside the coach.

  “Please, Marianne,” he whispered, squeezing her hands. “Say you’ll marry me. I’ve loved you since the moment you found me peering about Lord Copperpot’s bedchamber and told me to stop.”

  “What about your position with the Home Office? Will you give that up?” Marianne had lowered her voice to a whisper.

  “We can spy together if you like,” he offered, equally quiet, before raising his voice again to say, “Or, I’ll settle down and we’ll have half a score of children.”

  “That sounds like an awful lot of children, Marianne,” came Lady Courtney’s muffled interjection.

  Marianne laughed. “I quite agree, Lady Courtney,” she replied, raising her voice.

  “Fine then. Half a score. Two. Three. However many you want. I’ll give you the world, Marianne, just say you’ll marry me,” Beau pleaded, still on his knee.

  “I don’t know how to be a proper marchioness, Beau. What if I embarrass you and your family?”

  “We’ll teach you. We’ll all teach you, and you can be any type of marchioness you like. Nothing you do would ever embarrass me. Don’t you see, Marianne? I adore you.”

  “This is quite new to me, Lady Courtney,” Marianne called. “Is there anything else I should ask for before I agree?”

  “Hmm,” came Lady Courtney’s reply. “Ask for an extended honeymoon and invite your friends.”

  “Not a problem whatsoever,” Beau replied without skipping a beat. “With the money I won from a certain bet a while back, I’m prepared to take the whole lot of us on the best honeymoon money can buy.”

  “It sounds promising, Lady Courtney,” Marianne replied, smiling at Beau with tears in her eyes.

  “I agree, dear,” Lady Courtney replied. “I quite agree. He may be a madman, but he’s an eligible madman.”

  “Ask for some jewels!” another lady shouted from a nearby coach.

  “I can’t help that I’m a marquess,” Beau continued, smothering his laugh about the random lady’s comment, “and I cannot blame you for not relishing the role of a marchioness, but I love you madly. Please, please say yes. I’ll do everything in my power to make you happy. I’ll even pretend I’m a valet if it will help.”

  “That seems unnecessary.” Lady Courtney added.

  “Yes, Beau,” Marianne replied. “A thousand times, yes. I’ll marry you.”

  “Tell him you love him, girl,” Lady Courtney advised.

  “Oh, and yes, of course, I love you, too,” Marianne added with a laugh.

  Beau leaped to his feet, picked her up, and spun her in a circle as the entire line of carriages gave them a deafening round of applause.

  “I love you, Marianne,” he whispered as he set her back down and gave her a robust kiss that earned a huzzah from the crowd.

  “I love you, Beau. I’ll always have a special place in my heart for the valet who loved me.”

  Thank you for reading The Valet Who Loved Me. Would you like to receive a free copy of the special Footmen’s Club epilogue? All you have to do is sign-up for my newsletter at https://BookHip.com/PAWKVS.

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  Please page forward to see related books, my biography, and how to contact me!

  Valerie

  Also by Valerie Bowman

  The Footmen’s Club

  The Footman and I (Book 1)

  Duke Looks Like a Groomsman (Book 2)

  The Valet Who Loved Me (Book 3)

  * * *

  Playful Brides

  The Unexpected Duchess (Book 1)

  The Accidental Countess (Book 2)

  The Unlikely Lady (Book 3)

  The Irresistible Rogue (Book 4)

  The Unforgettable Hero (Book 4.5)

  Th
e Untamed Earl (Book 5)

  The Legendary Lord (Book 6)

  Never Trust a Pirate (Book 7)

  The Right Kind of Rogue (Book 8)

  A Duke Like No Other (Book 9)

  Kiss Me At Christmas (Book 10)

  Mr. Hunt, I Presume (Book 10.5)

  No Other Duke But You (Book 11)

  * * *

  Secret Brides

  Secrets of a Wedding Night (Book 1)

  A Secret Proposal (Book 1.5)

  Secrets of a Runaway Bride (Book 2)

  A Secret Affair (Book 2.5)

  Secrets of a Scandalous Marriage (Book 3)

  It Happened Under the Mistletoe (Book 3.5)

  Thank you for reading The Valet Who Loved Me. I so hope you enjoyed Beau and Marianne’s story as much as I enjoyed writing it.

  * * *

  I’d love to keep in touch.

  Visit my website for information about upcoming books, excerpts, and to sign up for my email newsletter: www.ValerieBowmanBooks.com or at www.ValerieBowmanBooks.com/subscribe.

  Join me on Facebook: http://Facebook.com/ValerieBowmanAuthor.

  Reviews help other readers find books. I appreciate all reviews whether positive or negative. Thank you so much for considering it!

  * * *

  Want to read the other Footmen’s Club books?

  The Footman and I

  Duke Looks Like a Groomsman

  About the Author

  Valerie Bowman grew up in Illinois with six sisters (she’s number seven) and a huge supply of historical romance novels.

  After a cold and snowy stint earning a degree in English with a minor in history at Smith College, she moved to Florida the first chance she got.

  Valerie now lives in Jacksonville with her family including her two rascally dogs. When she’s not writing, she keeps busy reading, traveling, or vacillating between watching crazy reality TV and PBS.