A Lady's Prerogative

by Annabelle Anders

  The two ladies entered the door to the single room with two twin beds and turned back to Natalie. With a quick curtsey, they thanked her, and Natalie made her escape.

  She considered bringing the ladies into her confidence regarding the pup but had decided against it. She would wait before determining whether that would be wise. Not all ladies liked puppies.

  Meanwhile, she rushed back to her charge.

  When Natalie opened the door, Baby Bear looked at her with such adoration, it nearly brought tears to her eyes. She crossed the room and gathered the warm little pup into her arms and was rewarded with a pink tongue attempting to lick every inch of her face. Giggling, she cooed and fussed with the dog before wrapping him in a blanket and making her way down the back stairs. It was going to be more difficult to keep her secret during the daylight hours. Once outside, she slipped into the trees and set Baby Bear down. Grasping the leading string she’d devised from an old ribbon, she allowed the pup to sniff around until he’d decided upon the perfect spot to relieve himself. Following Marcus’ instructions, she rewarded the pup with some small pieces of bacon and a brief stroll through the trees. Hopefully, Baby Bear retained something from these efforts.

  Sighing with relief upon making an undetected return to her room, Natalie turned the knob, slipped inside, and set the puppy down.

  When she straightened, she let out a shriek.

  She was not alone.

  Tinsdale was laying out a newly laundered dress. At the smirk she wore, Natalie’s heart sank. The cat was out of the bag…well, er, the dog, that was.

  “I wondered what you were up to, my lady.” The older woman used her foot to push the improvised doggy bed toward the center of the room. Within it lay one shredded slipper and a half-empty bowl of cream. “Mongrels tend to bring with them a certain odor. Am I right in assuming your father has no knowledge of this recent acquisition?” The woman, for a mere servant, boasted an extensive vocabulary—and used it—whenever need be to chastise her young charges.

  “Oh, Tinny.” Natalie pouted, using her former nanny’s pet name. She lifted Baby Bear and carried him across the room. “Look at poor little Baby Bear. I found him all alone and starving in the trees by the house.” Natalie pushed the pup into Tinsdale’s arms, knowing of the woman’s maternal feelings—they being her one great weakness. And who but a cold-hearted soul would not feel maternal toward little Baby Bear and his sorrowful eyes?

  Tinny had no choice but to grasp the pup close to her chest. Baby Bear worked his magic by placing some perfectly timed kisses on the old matron’s chin. Not thirty seconds passed before he had Tinny cooing and kissing him right back.

  Perhaps bringing Tinny in on this wasn’t such a bad thing after all. Natalie would need another accomplice if she were to entertain guests with her mother this afternoon. Otherwise, she would have to make some sort of excuse every hour to take Baby Bear out to do his business.

  Eyeing the dress on the bed, Natalie began her campaign. Normally, she would outright refuse to wear such a garment. Pink, for heaven’s sake. “Oh, Tinny!” She held the dress in front of her. “This is simply perfect! And I love the blush bonnet! I’m so glad you thought to pull them out today.”

  Mrs. Tinsdale knew Natalie too well to be fooled. She sighed in defeat, sat the pup on the floor, and put her hands on her hips. “And how often does the pup need to be taken outside?” she asked.

  Natalie beamed at her. “Every hour. I take him to the trees just beyond the old well.” As an afterthought, she added, “And do hold tight to the ribbon, Tinny. Baby Bear has very predatory instincts when he senses a squirrel or bird within his sights.”

  Nodding absently, Tinny pulled out some pale-pink lacy gloves and indicated Natalie take a seat at the dressing table in front of the looking glass. “You owe me for this, young lady. I’m thinking ringlets are in order.”

  Natalie grimaced but submitted gracefully.

  ****

  Natalie felt all of sixteen strolling onto the front lawn with a lacy pink parasol and her blond hair caught back into a plethora of tiny ringlets. Mrs. Tinsdale had chosen her retaliation effectively. As much as Natalie tugged and pulled her fingers through the curls, they did not relent. When one curl seemed to only grow tighter, she gave up and decided to ignore them and enjoy the afternoon. With this thought in mind, she glanced around looking for a particular gentleman.

  Drat.

  Lord Hawthorne was nowhere in sight.

  She did catch a glimpse of Misses Crone and Wright and, with a small wave, set a course to join them in the shade they’d found beneath a large oak. It grew near the pond where three small watercraft were set out in a row for the guests to use. The two ladies sat primly in the iron chairs beneath it.

  Miss Crone wore a serviceable afternoon gown made up of muted grays and lavender with little adornment. Miss Wright wore an equally serviceable dress, but with a shawl wrapped around herself—odd, since the sun shone high in the sky, and its heat could even be felt in the shade. Natalie felt like an iced wedding cake sitting next to the other two ladies. Tinny was far too fond of lacy pastels.

  “Lovely afternoon, is it not?” Natalie greeted the ladies with the usual meteorological comment. Penelope took one look at her and snorted.

  “What on earth are you doing dressed in pink, of all colors?” Penelope said. The more she grew into her spinster role, the less she bowed to the rules of polite society.

  Natalie could not take offense. Instead, she laughed at her own plight. “My maid thinks I am still six years old, Penelope,” she said, ignoring formal address. “But what of you? Couldn’t you spare even the barest nod to fashion in your own attire? You are not a matron after all, and,” she said with a hint of audacity, “my brothers are not immune to a little lace and finery.”

  Chuckling, all three ladies took a moment to peruse the faces of the guests in search of said brothers. The young Spencer men were in the process of setting up stakes for a game of horseshoes. With the top buttons of their waistcoats undone and shirt sleeves rolled to their elbows, Natalie could see how other ladies might find them attractive. They were nearly identical until a person took the time to speak with each of them. Darly was verifying the measurements between the stakes, while Stone had one hand in his pockets and looked back at Natalie with an amused smile. He had noticed her ringlets and lace as well. Peter, the spare to the spare, was tossing the horseshoes, testing their weights. He’d always been the quiet one in the family.

  And Joseph was on his wedding trip touring the Continent. Surprisingly, Natalie felt a pang at the thought that he would never dwell in their family home again. She’d not taken much time to consider his future absence, since she’d been so caught up in her own travails. Thinking about this now, she let out a sad sigh.

  This caused the two ladies to return their attention to her. Penelope did not hold back. “They do present an abundance of manhood, at that.” She said this in a deadpan voice, but humor lit her eyes.

  Miss Wright handed her fan over to Penelope. “Dear cousin,” she said, feigning concern, “fan yourself, my dear, lest you faint from palpitations.”

  Natalie could not help herself. She doubled over in laughter.

  Chapter Thirteen

  After allowing Marcus to fuss over his cravat for a full seventeen minutes, Garrett dismissed the eager valet and braced himself to make his appearance at Lady Ravensdale’s garden party. He’d eschewed both the top hat and cane Marcus tried foisting upon him. He wasn’t a doddering old man yet, for God’s sake.

  Feeling overdressed for a summer afternoon, he slipped downstairs and out to the front lawn. Most of the other guests had already arrived, but he wasn’t really interested in any of them. No, he found himself searching for one individual in particular. He leaned against the ornate wall lining the drive and perused the various clusters of ladies and gentlemen. They held dainty cakes in gloved hands and drank lemonade from sparkling crystal. Conversation rose and fell as it echoed off
the waters of the nearby lake. The moderated tones, however, were interrupted by a delightful burst of feminine giggles.

  Lady Natalie, overcome with laughter, dressed in pink and lace, was enough to dispel any reluctance he’d had in attending. Without stopping to think, he purposefully strode toward the group of ladies where they sat near the water.

  Garrett’s heart lightened as he drew closer. Her earlier despondency had fled, and a bubbling effervescence now overflowed from her. He’d not enjoyed contemplating her misery.

  Upon reaching them, he bowed. “My lady, would you be so kind as to present me to your lovely companions?”

  Miss Crone actually snorted. Garrett ignored the sarcastic gesture and instead complimented them upon their frocks. They seemed a cheerful group, less restrained and rigid than the countess’ other guests.

  Lady Natalie’s eyes gleamed. “Won’t you sit with us, my lord?” She indicated a vacant chair across from her. Before any further conversation, however, Lord Ravensdale ambled toward them with the Duke of Monfort following at a more leisurely pace.

  Gesturing toward the empty rowboats, the earl turned in the direction of his sons and with no thought to propriety, shouted, “Come over here, Darlington. We have three ladies in need of coxswains and just two bachelors to comply.” Returning his attention to the ladies, he laughed at his own cleverness. “I’m sure you gels might have waited all day for these gallants to put away their games and take you out for a paddle, eh? Gentlemen sometimes need prodding, heh, heh.”

  Natalie tilted her head back, closed her eyes, and likely was wondering that her father was such a favorite of the ton. Garrett supposed it had something to do with the man being an earl—a very wealthy one at that.

  Showing no tact whatsoever, the earl persisted. “Natalie, I’m sure Monfort here has a knack with the oars. Hawthorne, you take out dear Miss Wright, and Darlington can row Miss Crone. What a nice picture you all will make, eh?”

  Looking resigned, Natalie rose and the duke bowed low before her. “My lady, it would be an honor to take you for a turn on the lake, if you wish it.”

  She curtsied and smiled politely—too politely. “It would be my pleasure, Your Grace.” Garrett turned to Miss Wright and offered his arm, and just arriving to join them, Lord Darlington did the same with Miss Crone. The resigned little group obediently stepped out onto the dock and began arranging themselves onto the various boats.

  Monfort claimed a boat first and steadied it for Lady Natalie. Ignoring the duke’s outstretched hand, Natalie gasped in dismay. “Oh, I have forgotten my parasol! Miss Wright, you must go with the duke, and I shall follow with Lord Hawthorne.” Natalie pulled the lady forward and thrust her toward the duke’s craft.

  If not for the quick reactions of the duke, Miss Abigail Wright might very well have fallen into the lake.

  Garrett chuckled as Natalie dashed back onto shore, presumably to fetch the very essential parasol. Heaven forbid her honeyed English complexion be exposed to the intermittent afternoon sunlight. As the duke pushed off with Miss Wright, Garrett watched Natalie slow to a promenade, open the lacy umbrella, and twirl it flirtatiously on her shoulder. A secret smile danced upon her lips as she glanced at him from beneath her lashes.

  In no hurry himself, Garrett took a seat in the third rowboat, reclined on the bench, and enjoyed her performance. He admitted to himself, unashamedly, that he was not displeased with this turn of events.

  When she arrived on the jetty once again, he couldn’t help but return her impish grin.

  “Well, my lady, that was effective. I am most impressed.”

  Natalie turned her head and followed the progress of the other two boats as they drifted atop the calm lake waters. “I think the duke might very well enjoy a few moments in the company of Miss Wright. If anybody can find a crack in his demeanor, I think it could be her. She has a marvelous sense of humor!” Her smile took a wicked turn as she then looked down at Garrett. “Do you know how to row us around this lake, or are we to remain tied to the jetty all afternoon?”

  Again, Garrett was sitting in this lady’s presence! Immediately, he corrected his manners by standing and taking hold of the nearest pillar for balance. With a courtly gesture, he beckoned her to join him on board. “I am at your service, my lady.” He reached out his gloved hand and took hold of her fingers. Although she, too, wore gloves, he could feel the delicate bones in her hands as she leaned into his assistance. He did not release her until she sat safe and secure on the boat.

  “Do you have any particular destination in mind?” he asked as he untied the lines.

  Natalie lounged back on her elbows and pulled one glove off. Dipping lazy fingers in the water, she let her head fall back sleepily, the parasol forgotten on the seat beside her. “We could go around the island,” she suggested.

  Garrett removed his own gloves and slipped off his jacket while allowing the boat to drift aimlessly for the moment. He rolled his sleeves up before taking the oars and performing smooth slow strokes, drawing them away from the shoreline.

  All the while, he considered the options before him.

  If ever a gentleman was presented with an opportunity to court a lady, this was it.

  Did he wish to court her?

  As she leaned her head back, she must have dislodged one of the pins holding her mass of ringlets in place. Several spiraling locks came free and cascaded down to settle on her shoulders and around her décolletage. Instead of reaching for the pin to try to rearrange her coiffure, she shook her head slightly, causing even more strands to come loose.

  Catching him watching her, Natalie grimaced. “My maid got carried away,” she said dryly.

  Sweet Lord in heaven, this gorgeous girl was completely unaware of the seductive effect she had on him. Could she be that naïve? Even decked out in such a profusion of pink lace and chiffon, she ignited a sensual longing within him. Perhaps courting her was not such a very bad idea, all things considered.

  “I find your ensemble delightful.” He complimented her as a gentleman would but did nothing to disguise a more carnal appreciation from entering his eyes. He then enjoyed her blush.

  Exhibiting an unnatural wave of shyness, she pulled herself to sit up straight on the wooden bench and looked down at her lap. “Thank you.” The words came out softly. She fidgeted with some of the ridiculous lace on her skirt. “You are looking fine as well.” An impish smile formed on her mouth. “You are still allowing Marcus to valet for you?” Her eyes danced with mischief.

  Garrett nodded. “I am, and I thank you for recommending him.” Realizing the small boat approached a branch protruding from the water, he took a moment to right his direction. “Why don’t you acquire a new lady’s maid?” he asked, remembering she’d referred to the servant as being responsible for all the pink and lace.

  Lady Natalie touched her hair self-consciously and sighed. “My lady’s maid is both my former nanny and at times governess. She’s left behind neither role.” She reached into the water, pulled out a floating twig and used it to draw swirls in the water. “I love Tinny—Mrs. Tinsdale—it’s just I would like to find a maid who has been exposed to some fashion, a woman of my own choosing. Perhaps closer to myself in age. I feel as though it is a constant battle between us as to how I ought to present myself.” She gestured downward. “Tinny won the battle today.”

  Garrett stopped rowing and regarded her solemnly. “Why don’t you tell your mother this?”

  Natalie let out a short laugh. “You and I have discussed the differences in our families before. One of the—challenges of being cared for is, these people have the ability to weigh one down with their love. The love of one’s family can, at times, be a considerable burden.” She smiled ruefully. “Tinny loves me.”

  “You do not wish to hurt her feelings,” Garrett surmised.

  “Precisely.”

  They glided along the lake in silence. Garrett continued contemplating his options. The sun was high and warm. He was glad he’d
removed his jacket.

  “If you were to marry”—he spoke casually—“you could experience a measure of independence.”

  “Not all would agree with that opinion,” she countered. “In truth, a lady cannot know what her circumstances will be until it is too late to undo them.” She was quite serious-minded about this. “I would hope my brothers would terminate such an unfortunate alliance if it were to occur, but the law is on the side of the man. A woman becomes the property of her husband. That’s why I cannot understand my father’s eagerness to marry me off.”

  Her father confused Garrett, as well. One day he seemed to be offering his daughter to Garrett, and the next he was pushing the girl into the Duke of Monfort’s damned arms. Perhaps the earl wished to keep all his…her options open.

  “Your father cares for you. Perhaps that is why he imposes his will so strongly upon your marital prospects.”

  Again, a long sigh. She did a great deal of that as of late. “I know. But…”

  Understanding dawned. “You want a love match.”

  This revelation gave him pause. Perhaps he ought to rethink his own designs upon her. He could never give her what she wanted. He found her desirable. He found her conversation pleasant, even entertaining, but he’d lived something of a debauched life until recently. He was not certain he was even capable of romantic love—if it in fact existed.

  “You also want passion,” he added, perhaps to strengthen his own cause. His eyes dropped to her lips. His provocative words changed the tenor of their conversation. Both were very aware of the kisses they had already shared. The passion he’d brought to a halt.

  Her chin tipped up. She held his eyes boldly. “I do,” she affirmed. “Are the two mutually exclusive, or are they one and the same?” Oh, Lord, this girl had a lot to learn.

  “Yes,” Garrett responded, “and no, not at all, in my experience anyway.”

  “Trade me places. I wish to row.” She could be a demanding little wench.

  “Please,” he corrected her with a stern look. He raised one eyebrow and added, “Please, my lord, would you do me the favor of trading seats so I may row?”