Beastly Lords Collection

by Baily, Sydney Jane

  “You really don’t mind that a woman just turned her head away from us with her nose so far in the air I thought she might tumble backward off her horse’s rear end?”

  Ada chuckled. “I am secure in my reputation,” she assured him.

  “Besides, what could I do to make amends in the eyes of London’s stylish and snooty? I can’t undrink the many drinks I had in the gin palaces, any more than I can un-bed any of the…?” he broke off and coughed, looking discomfited.

  She assumed he was going to say whores, or maybe a more polite term. However, that wasn’t the worst of it. Ada recalled what Lady Pepperton had said. Did he really not know why he was considered so vile by civilized society?

  “Nor can you restore to any innocent ladies their virtue.”

  She was surprised she’d been able to say those words without an angry tone. However, she realized the truth was the truth, and it was pointless to spend her life thinking reparation could be made where, plainly, it could not.

  Abruptly, Michael leaned over to grab her horse’s bridal, while at the same time, pulling back on his own reins so they stopped together in the middle of the path.

  “What are you doing?” Ada exclaimed.

  Looking at his face, she snapped her mouth closed, having never seen him with such an expression before—outraged and defensive.

  “I don’t wish to argue with you, but the ton has given me a name which can be taken in many ways. While I will freely admit to enjoying more than my share of gin and, if you’ll excuse my saying so, women as well. If they think me vile for my behavior, so be it. However, my reputation for preying on innocents was unfounded entirely. I have never robbed a lady of her virtue, nor taken anything from anyone that was not freely given.”

  Ada felt a familiar trembling start. The disagreeable sensation had happened directly after their tryst in the gazebo, persisting that entire terrible night while she sat in the carriage with the stickiness drying between her legs, waiting for her mother. The trembling had returned every sleepless night for months while she lay in her bed, berating herself for her stupidity.

  How many times had she recalled how she’d allowed him to maneuver her into the compromising position? She’d been entirely passive as he’d enjoyed himself.

  Why? Because she’d been obsessed with him, admired him, practically worshipped him. And because she’d been too naive about what would happen when she acquiesced.

  After Harry was born, with her son to think about, as well as building a fortune, and then planning the move back to London, Ada hadn’t felt the quivering helplessness in a long time. She didn’t like it one bit!

  In a swift move, she unhooked her left leg from the stirrup, lifted her right leg up and over the high pommel of her sidesaddle and dismounted, leaving him with two horses and riders passing him on both sides.

  “Ada,” he called after her as she took a few unsteady steps away, nearly getting run over by other riders until she began to pay attention to where she was going. When she was off the path and next to a tall silver maple, she stopped, gasping for breath.

  In a few minutes, he was beside her, leading both horses. Dropping their reins, he grabbed her hands.

  “Are you all right? You’re shaking. I snapped at you, and I apologize. I didn’t mean to upset you. I don’t give a damn what anyone else thinks, or even what they call me, but I don’t like knowing you think badly of me. Especially when it is for something I didn’t do.”

  Staring down at their entwined hands, she nodded, unable to look at him. She feared if she stared into his luminous amber eyes, he would see the truth—that she had been one of those innocents.

  It was true he hadn’t attacked her or stolen her virtue, and maybe he hadn’t forced himself on any of the young ladies whose furious parents had made mention of Lord Vile in the papers. It didn’t excuse him, though. For he had a way about him, almost a hypnotic power when he started kissing. At least, she felt that way about him.

  How could he not know how mesmerizing he was when he was dealing with a virginal miss? What defense did an innocent have against his skillful lovemaking?

  “I swear to you, Ada, I’ve never coerced an unwilling female, and certainly not an innocent. I had no need, there were plenty of young ladies willing to—”

  “Stop,” she said loudly, wrenching her hands from his, then childishly putting her palms over her ears. “I don’t wish to hear anymore.”

  He fell silent, looking utterly miserable.

  “I’ve made a mess of things.” Stepping back, he yanked his flask out of his pocket, thumbed it open, and took a long drink.

  Her old companion, fury at Lord Vile, returned when seeing him drink from his blasted flask. At least, she’d stopped trembling, which gave her strength again. Stepping forward, she poked her finger on his chest, right below his cravat, emphasizing her next words.

  “How would you know?” Her words were like blasts from a gun.

  Closing the flagon, he looked at her in confusion. “How would I know what?”

  “How would you know if the young woman under you was a virgin or not, whether she was willing, confused, or simply scared?”

  “How would I—?” he began, but this time, she slapped her entire hand against the lapel of his coat.

  With each word, she smacked his chest with her palm. “Drinking. As. Much. As. You. Do. How. Would. You. Know?”

  He stared at her, and she stared back, until his eyes widened.

  Finally, he shook his head. “I am never so foxed I don’t know what I’m doing or with whom.”

  “Maybe,” she said, recalling that night in the Fontaine’s garden, how he’d spoken so fancifully about her as a sprite, a fairy, or even a goddess. He had certainly been tipsy. “And maybe not.”

  Turning away from him, swallowing the remains of her anger so it wouldn’t choke her, Ada snatched up the reins of her horse, put her foot to the stirrup, and awaited his assistance in helping her into the sidesaddle.

  Wordlessly, he did so, then he regained his own saddle, and they set off back the way they’d come toward Belgrave Square.

  What more was there to say? He spoke with utter conviction. However, she was proof he was wrong—she was a virgin he’d deflowered without even realizing.

  Struggling in her thoughts with how to return to the even keel they’d been on before this painful ride, how to tamp down the rage and the sadness, she didn’t notice the carriage drawn up outside her home until she was nearly upon it.

  And then, very clearly, she saw the monogram upon the vehicle’s door, JRE.

  Her parents had arrived.

  Chapter Twenty-One

  In case any of her neighbors were watching, Ada didn’t slide down the side of her horse as she had at Rotten Row in the park. Instead, in ladylike fashion but with great impatience, she waited for Michael to dismount and help her down.

  They shared a glance, and she realized she needed to smooth things over now before they greeted her parents. Or, on second thought, she could send him on his way with all due haste, which would be prudent.

  Since she had no footman, it was Michael’s man who was waiting to take charge of their horses. Appearing from the shadowy area by her steps, his footman swiftly took hold of the reins and started to walk them away and around the back, where there were small stables for the entire terrace of houses.

  “Hold,” Michael said to him. Then he looked at her. “Am I coming in? It appears you have visitors. I can leave at once.”

  She hesitated. “My parents have returned to London. I knew it was imminent.”

  At his expression, she added, “They don’t live with me. They have a townhouse on Hanover Square.”

  It was why Ada and Maggie were the oldest and dearest of friends, having grown up as neighbors. Did he recall that was where Jenny and her family had lived before her father’s death? He’d probably visited the eldest Blackwood sister there.

  He simply nodded, looking, she thought, rather lost. M
aybe he was still wondering what terrible deeds he’d done while inebriated.

  Her front door opened, but instead of Randall standing in the doorway, it was her mother.

  “Come in, come in. Hurry! I’ve been waiting to see you. How Harry has grown! I’ve missed you so much, my girl.”

  Drawn by her sweet mother’s words, Ada rushed into her embrace. They entered the foyer, arms still around each other, and she could hear her father’s booming voice laughing with Harry.

  Crossing to the parlor, she heard footsteps behind her and knew Michael had followed. In the next instant, she saw her father seated on the sofa but bending low to pet Dash while Harry ran in circles holding a new toy.

  “Papa,” she greeted. But it was her son who ran to her.

  “Look, Mama, look,” and he thrust a carved wooden horse, realistically painted, toward her.

  When she reached out to admire it, he snatched it back, cradling it to his chest.

  “My horse,” he said.

  “Did you thank Nana and Grandpapa?”

  Her father stood up by this time. “He did, Ada. He’s a good boy.”

  Giving her a brief hug, he looked her up and down. “You look well, daughter. London suits you so far.”

  She felt her cheeks grow warm, only thinking of what she’d been up to in the past weeks.

  “It does, Papa.”

  His eyes narrowed curiously as he looked past her.

  “Whom have we here?”

  “My apologies,” she muttered. “Mummy, Papa, this is Lord Alder.” Her mother wasn’t much for the gossip rags and her father never read that section of any newspaper, so she felt fairly safe in giving them his name. There would be no thunderstruck expressions or insults hurled.

  Michael stepped forward to offer a sincere bow of his head to her parents, who now stood side-by-side, clearly curious and inspecting the man with whom their daughter had been out riding.

  “A pleasure to meet you,” Michael intoned, easily slipping into his charming self. “Did you only just arrive from the country?”

  “Yes,” James Ellis answered. “We didn’t even go to our own home yet, so eager was Ada’s mother to see her.”

  Kathryn Ellis smiled. “You were just as eager, dear.”

  “Would you care for tea or coffee?” Ada asked before her parents began to argue over who was more keen to see her.

  “Oh, I did ask Lucy,” her mother said. “It should be ready shortly. I hope you don’t mind.”

  “Of course not.”

  “Your own home and so many changes,” Kathryn continued, lifting a delicate brow and glancing between Ada and Michael.

  Ada most certainly didn’t want her parents coming to the wrong conclusion, not when it was so temporary.

  Just then, Harry let out a loud shriek of pure joy simply playing on the rug with Dash and his new toy. Nanny Finn, who had been seated unobtrusively in the corner, stepped forward.

  “Shall I take the young master upstairs, madam?”

  “Yes, thank you,” Ada agreed, ruffling her son’s hair as he went past making neighing sounds.

  She rather hoped Dash would follow so she didn’t have to explain why a stranger had given her a dog, but the animal was too interested in sniffing her parents’ shoes, undoubtedly enjoying many scents they’d carried with them from Surrey.

  Silence descended, and Ada realized Michael was hovering at her elbow. What could she say without being rude?

  “Will you join us for a refreshment, or do you have to go?”

  If he heard her emphasize the last word, he didn’t let on. His face lit up, and she knew he was going to accept the invitation, when all of a sudden, her brother entered.

  “Grady!” she exclaimed. “I was wondering where you were,” she lied. With Michael meeting her parents, she’d forgotten entirely her younger brother would be there as well.

  They hugged, and she introduced him to Michael.

  “Where were you?” she asked her brother as the tea was brought in.

  “I hope you don’t mind, sis. I had to stretch my legs, and with the size of this place, I could take a walk without going outside. You’ve done really well!”

  She shrugged slightly, feeling absurdly pleased by her younger brother’s praise.

  “There’s also a lovely grassy patch in the center of the square. Perfect for Harry to play in.”

  “And for your dog,” Grady surmised, eyeing Dash curiously.

  She knew he was about to ask where the dog came from.

  “Why don’t we all sit?” she blurted, and before she knew it, her family was seated with Lord Vile, of all people, who looked as pleased as Punch, from the puppet show she’d recently seen in the park with Harry.

  At that moment, she did feel rather like Punch’s long-suffering wife, Judy.

  How was she to get out of this farce before someone said something she would need to explain?

  Almost at once, it got worse.

  “You are here too early for Parliament, Lord Ellis,” Michael pointed out. “Do you have other dealings in London, or did you come expressly to see your daughter?”

  Her father smiled, and she knew he was about to launch into his favorite topic. Sure enough, he responded, “My primary interest in London is the stock exchange. Always has been. Miss it like the devil when I’m in Surrey.”

  Ada’s teacup rattled in her hand. She couldn’t stop the course of the conversation.

  “Really? How fortuitous!” Michael exclaimed. “I have recently begun to invest, and it’s working out quite well.”

  “Fabulous,” her father said with his usual enthusiasm for the topic, giving a little clap of his hands.

  Her mother sighed, and her brother, whose interest lay in becoming a barrister, leaned back against the sofa cushions, firmly settling in for the long discourse. Even Dash lay across Ada’s slippers as if knowing it were time to nap.

  “What markets have you got into so far?” the baron asked.

  Michael listed off three or four, all with her father nodding his approval.

  “With your interest in stocks, you are keeping the right company, then,” her father said, with a knowing tilt of his head.

  Michael fell silent, his expression blank.

  “I’m sorry, sir? I don’t understand.”

  “Not to imply you are keeping company,” Baron Ellis added as his wife poked him in the ribs with her elbow. “I merely thought…” He nodded toward Ada, who sat in an otherwise comfortable wing chair, but feeling as if she were resting on hatpins.

  How she wished she could somehow transport herself across town or perhaps to the bottom of the Thames.

  Michael looked at her inquiringly. She shrugged and offered the vacant stare of a female who didn’t know a stock from a stork.

  “Has anyone tried Mary’s raspberry jam biscuits? They are quite delicious,” she asked.

  Grady leaned forward and snatched one up, taking a bite.

  “They are!” he exclaimed.

  Michael still stared at her. If recalling what his father said when she’d met him, he might suddenly wonder what she did, indeed, know about investing.

  Time for an entirely new topic.

  “Have you found a place for Grady to apprentice, or is he going to study common law at a university?”

  Her mother narrowed her eyes, obviously reading her daughter like a penny paper, recognizing her diversionary tactics, but her father merely shrugged.

  “We will spend some time making the rounds,” he promised, winking at Grady. “We’ll find him a place.”

  “Solicitor or barrister?” Michael asked her brother, who responded as to the latter for he quite liked the idea of arguing before a judge.

  Crisis averted, Ada thought.

  “My brother is frightfully good at arguing,” she said with a gentle smile, for she loved Grady though they had fought a lot during childhood. “And I’m positive the wig and gown will suit him.”

  Grady made a face, and ever
yone laughed.

  “If only both of my children could do what they were born to do,” James Ellis lamented, and Ada froze. Crisis returned! “As much as Grady will make a fine barrister, Ada should be allowed to—”

  “No,” she yelped, interrupting her father.

  In the shocked silence that followed, she felt her heart beating nearly out of her chest. She was certain he would have revealed her fervent wish to go on the floor of the exchange and be a broker.

  “Dash,” she said weakly, pointing at the dog, who’d jumped up at her tone. “I’m afraid one of his toenails went through my slipper.”

  Reaching down, she patted his silky head. “Not your fault, pup,” she murmured.

  It’s my fault. This letting-things-happen attitude, laissez-faire as the French economists termed it, was what got her into trouble in the first place in that cursed gazebo. This was her home, and it was up to her to take control.

  Abruptly standing, Ada sent her parents a warm smile. “You must wish to settle in at home. I shall come visit and bring Harry in the morning.”

  Grady jumped up, obviously relieved.

  “Wonderful. Let’s go,” he said to their parents. “I’ve some chums I wish to visit tonight.”

  “Tonight?” Kathryn repeated, sounding scandalized.

  “Mother, I’m eighteen.” Grady kissed Ada’s cheek and left the room.

  “He’ll be halfway to Hanover Square before he realizes you’re not in the carriage,” Ada said, trying to hurry her parents along.

  In a flurry of kisses and hugs, Baron and Baroness Ellis were in the foyer.

  However, at the door, they hesitated, her father looking pointedly at Michael. In all good conscience, her parents couldn’t leave their daughter alone with a strange man.

  Luckily, even the jaded Lord Vile understood.

  “I, too, must take my leave,” he said, and she breathed a sigh of relief.

  After a bow to each of her parents, Michael turned to her.

  Was he going to take her hand and kiss it? Clenching her hands at her sides, she nodded awkwardly at him.

  “I’ll walk you all out,” she offered, stepping in front of him, feeling eyes upon her as she linked arms with her mother.