A Lady's Prerogative

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A Lady's Prerogative Page 14

by Annabelle Anders


  Lady Ravensdale’s chin rose slightly before dropping in an understanding nod. She then glanced around the room as though searching for something. “And the pup? Are you to blame his appearance on poor Mrs. Tinsdale as well?”

  She would not rat Tinny out in that respect. Natalie faced her mother directly. She stood straight, tall, and proud. “Baby Bear is mine. I found him, and I am taking care of him.”

  Lady Ravensdale looked about the room again. “And where,” she asked pointedly, “is Baby Bear now?”

  Oh, botheration! Of course, her mother would pounce upon this. “Tinsdale offered to take him outside.” Recalling the woman’s profuse apologies from earlier, Natalie could not help but defend herself. “Tinsdale’s grown rather fond of Baby Bear.”

  Lady Ravensdale took a seat on a velvet-covered chair near the window. Leaning forward, she rubbed her forehead as though to dispel a megrim. “My darling, I know you are unhappy with the way this summer has materialized. I know you are frustrated at your present circumstances, but really, must you jump into the lake in the middle of my garden party?”

  More guilt! She had not meant to embarrass her mother.

  She never meant to embarrass any of her family, but that was all she seemed capable of doing for the past few months.

  “I didn’t plan on jumping in the lake, Mama.” She hoped she could coax her mother into better spirits. “Although the water did manage to rid me of those dratted ringlets Tinsdale gave me earlier.”

  Lady Ravensdale moaned. “My darling girl, if Tinsdale is not your maid, then what are we to do with her? She has given her entire life to help me raise you children. She has no family of her own and is now past her most productive years. I fear she would decline if there were no purpose in her life. What would you have me do with her?”

  “She could be your maid,” Natalie said, deadpan.

  “Oh, do be serious.”

  “I am being serious, Mother! If you do not wish to have her as your maid, why ever would I?”

  This silenced her mother. Natalie took the opportunity to further her cause. “Perhaps Father could settle a pension upon her—set her up in a charming cottage somewhere?” The words landed between she and her mother with a thump. Natalie regretted them as soon as they left her lips.

  “You know we cannot,” her mother stood, signaling an end to their conversation. “But I will discuss the situation with your father, and he might assist us in finding a better solution to her employment.”

  As annoying as her parents could be at times, she never, ever, doubted their love. “Thank you, Mama.” She rushed into her mother’s arms with the intent to reassure her. “And please, do not fret for me. Soon this summer will be over, and then we can go to London for the Little Season. We can shop and make visits and not feel as though we must wallow in the country hiding my shame.”

  Her mother put one hand on Natalie’s cheek. “I have never been ashamed of you my dear. A little embarrassed, perhaps, on a few occasions”—her smile was watery—“but never ashamed.”

  Natalie blinked away a few tears. “Thank you, Mama.” She hoped her papa felt the same.

  ****

  Calm and at peace, Natalie felt unusually graceful as she stepped into the drawing room just before dinner. It was not the dress. It was not the loose chignon Tinny had assisted her with. Nor was it the new pair of gold slippers she wore. No, something inside her had shifted. She was not even embarrassed over the incident at the garden party.

  In a distracted manner, she fidgeted with the glass of wine handed to her by one of the footmen and wondered if this was what it felt like to grow up.

  Little matters, once so important to her, suddenly seemed trivial.

  Very grown up emotions made themselves known tonight, most evoked by Lord Hawthorne.

  Natalie had seen a bleakness in his ebony eyes when he pulled her out of the water. He’d been frightened for her, as though he actually cared about her.

  Which was preposterous, considering his reputation. The man had admitted to consorting with experienced widows, dancers, and opera singers. Natalie was an inexperienced debutante. The extent of her sensual experience could not even fill a thimble, for heaven’s sake.

  But she could not dismiss what she’d seen in his eyes. Was it merely the effect one felt in the aftermath of a harrowing situation? Would he have viewed Miss Penelope Crone or Miss Abigail Wright with the same gentle sensitivity? The thought alone made something dark and cold curl within her chest.

  Ha! Caring indeed! It seemed to her that she might be the one with the unfortunate affliction.

  Spotting Miss Crone and Miss Wright sitting on the large wing chairs near the grand fireplace, Natalie approached them with a polite smile and greeting. The ladies stood anxiously, and Miss Wright reached out both of her hands to Natalie.

  “Oh, my lady, I do hope you are feeling well after your frightening experience this afternoon? And the little pup, has he recovered too?” Natalie allowed the lady to grasp both of her hands. The fact that Miss Wright included Baby Bear in her concern raised Natalie’s regard of her immediately.

  “Thank you. And yes, Baby Bear and I are both unscathed by this afternoon’s events.” In fact, this very minute Mrs. Tinsdale was likely spoiling the little imp.

  Miss Wright smiled. It brought a prettiness to her that Natalie hadn’t noticed earlier. “Baby Bear is his name? How adorable! I have always wanted a pet, but my mother is allergic and could never tolerate an animal in the house.”

  Miss Crone rolled her eyes. “Your mother”—she paused for effect—“barely tolerates other humans about—” A warning look from Miss Wright silenced her comment, so Natalie changed the subject.

  “Do, let’s sit. I do believe summer has arrived.” Natalie fluttered her ivory fan before smiling and turning her attention to Penelope. “Did my brother charm you? Please tell me he didn’t bore you with statistics and economics. He tends to get carried away conversing on agricultural outputs and trading prices.”

  Penelope answered in all seriousness. “He was quite charming, but yes, in fact, that is exactly what we discussed. Why would such a topic be considered boring?”

  Miss Wright smiled at her cousin. “I’m sure Penelope instigated the topic herself.” Ruefully, she added, “Penelope avoids anything resembling flirtation or romance when a gentleman dares attempt such with her. She is determined to remain unmarried.”

  “And what of you, Miss Wright?” Natalie ventured. “Did you find it necessary to avoid the duke’s advances?”

  With that, Miss Abigail Wright gave her a sideways accusatory stare. “You were very wicked to pair me with Monfort. A duke, no less! What was I to do when plunked down in a boat with a duke of all things, for nearly forty minutes? What does a grown woman, one who is for all intents and purposes on the shelf, speak of with a duke? Very naughty indeed, Lady Natalie,” she admonished again. But Natalie’s curiosity was aroused.

  “What does a woman who is practically on the shelf discuss with a duke for forty minutes, Miss Wright?”

  The older lady blushed but did not seem to enjoy Natalie’s teasing. Some other, unidentifiable emotion crossed the lady’s face.

  A change of subject was unnecessary, however, when a commotion at the large double doors leading into the drawing room snared their attention. Dressed in travelling clothes and covered in dust, four young men stepped inside of the drawing room. They obviously did not belong in the present surroundings. Their hair, matted from perspiration, stuck out in all directions as they removed their hats and stepped inside amongst the esteemed guests. They must know they were not welcome here.

  Natalie did not believe for one minute that her parents would have invited Mr. Damian Farley and his associates to Raven’s Park—ever. Farley swaggered in and, catching sight of Natalie and the two other women, leered in their direction. Natalie did not drop her eyes but narrowed them defiantly at the cad. He chuckled to himself and returned her look with a mocking smile. H
e had lost one of his front teeth since she last saw him. She wondered if it fell out due to decay or violence. It very easily could have been either.

  Before Natalie became betrothed, just a few weeks after her come out, Farley had attempted to trap her into marriage to himself. Joseph had been watching out for her, however, and foiled the man’s plan. It was only after this occurred that Natalie heard of his reputation.

  She knew the identity of two of his companions but did not know either of them personally. The Viscount of Trident, although quiet, was stained with a reputation similar to Farley’s, but the younger man, the Marquis of Lockley, looked too good-natured to be a threat to anyone. The fact they were in Farley’s company, however, gave her reason to distrust the whole lot of them.

  Except that Lord Danbury accompanied them. Danbury was a longtime friend of Stone’s and an even closer friend to her former betrothed. Just as that thought went through her head, Natalie watched with relief as Stone intercepted the ruffians and steered them back into the foyer.

  Miss Crone commented suspiciously. “Wherever did those blackguards come from?” She looked over at Natalie with questioning eyes. “Surely they have not been invited?” Her disapproval was obvious in her tone of voice. Miss Crone had placed her hand atop Miss Wright’s fists, which were now clenched in her lap. Miss Wright had gone pale.

  “Lord Danbury is a friend of Stone’s, but the other three would never be welcomed here. I’m certain Stone is removing them this very moment.” She reassured Miss Crone. “My family is aware of Farley and his disreputable ways.”

  “Trident has more money than sense, apparently,” Miss Crone declared, “and now it looks as though Farley’s got his hands in Lockley’s pockets as well. Lockley came of age this past season. I cannot see his father approving of such a connection for his heir.” After a thoughtful pause, she continued, “I agree with you about Danbury, though. I can’t imagine what he’s doing in Farley’s company.”

  Natalie watched Miss Wright closely. “There is nothing to worry about, Abigail. May I call you Abigail?” At Miss Wright’s barely perceptible nod, she continued, “They will not be allowed to stay. My brothers do not consort with such vermin.” Thinking that Abigail Wright must be a very sheltered woman, Natalie continued, “They’re likely sent back where they’ve come from already.”

  But her mother had allowed Garrett Castleton to come to Raven’s Park as a guest. This thought gave Natalie pause. She, in no way, connected Garrett with the likes of Farley and Trident. She considered him a rake, and yet there was something solid about him. He had almost always arrived at ton events alone. And she’d never actually witnessed him over-imbibing in the presence of ladies. Since his arrival at Raven’s Park, he’d exhibited an uncompromising determination to behave honorably toward her. And even though he looked at her with blatant sensuality, never had she felt she had anything to fear.

  He seemed to be trustworthy. No, he was trustworthy. The more she came to know of him, the more she felt this to be true. She would never again allow Mr. Farley to get her alone. No, that one would, given the slightest opportunity, take full advantage.

  Unlike Garrett Castleton. Where was that dratted man anyhow?

  ****

  Garrett left his room feeling more optimistic than he’d felt in a long time. Unfortunately, it didn’t last long. At the top of the stairs, he paused silently when he caught sight of Stone with a group of vaguely familiar men. They all looked to be travel weary.

  Stone did not appear happy as he addressed Danbury through gritted teeth. Ah yes, Garrett recognized the viscount. Garrett and Stone had known him for years.

  Not wishing to draw attention to himself, Garrett watched as Stone pulled Danbury off to the side and addressed him in a tight voice. “What in the hell do you think you’re doing bringing these bounders here? The lot of them are nothing but trouble.” Stone did not anger easily. Garrett braced himself to assist if necessary.

  But Danbury looked sheepish. “I didn’t plan to bring them here, Stone. Cortland left town, you know, and with the season at an end, I thought I’d remain in London rather than follow my mother and sister back to Land’s End.” Even Garrett knew that Danbury’s mother and sister were the worst sort of matchmakers. It was a wonder the man remained a bachelor.

  Pulling a flask from his pocket, Danbury took a long swig of God knows what before continuing. “And then McDuff, Lockley’s father, asked if I would keep an eye on him, try to keep him out of any serious trouble. I owed him a favor…I had no idea who I would be up against!” Gesturing with his flask, he glanced toward the room the others had disappeared into. And then, as though remembering something, he drew his brows together. “What’s this I hear of Hawthorne being a guest of your parents, Stone? Does your father not know of the insanity in that family? Nothing against Castleton, but not even Wellington could live down Hawthorne’s actions.” He punctuated his insults with a belch.

  Garrett chose that moment to make his presence known. “Danbury.” He sauntered down the stairs cheerfully. “Hadn’t thought I’d have the pleasure of your company again this summer.”

  “Ah, well”—Danbury didn’t miss a beat—“town becomes uncomfortable during the warmer months.”

  Garrett nodded, then folded his arms across his chest and leaned against the balustrade.

  Stone, looking grateful that Garrett wasn’t resorting to violence, turned his attention back to Danbury. The normally well-put-together gentleman had dark circles around his eyes and a sallowness to his skin. “You aren’t looking good, my friend. How can I help you?”

  Danbury shifted his eyes toward where his companions had gone. “Could you give us a few nights in your bachelors’ quarters? I need time alone with Lockley to convince him to forsake Farley’s company. If I can get him back to his father, I’ll consider my debt to the duke paid in full.”

  Stone shook his head, reluctance on his face. “Very well. Take the lot of them down there, and do not, I repeat, do not allow them to come anywhere near the house.” At Danbury’s apparent relief, he added, “I’ll send a footman down with provisions, sandwiches, and spirits. But promise me you’ll keep them holed up. God knows what kind of trouble those two will make, given a chance.”

  Danbury grasped Stone’s hand. “I’m in your debt for this, my friend.” Then, with a sly wink, he added, “Say hullo to your beautiful sister for me, will you? If I didn’t have to deal with these idiots, I’d be happy to soothe her wounded heart.”

  “Don’t start, Danbury. I could change my mind yet.” Stone did not look amused.

  Garrett was not amused either. In fact, he had the sudden urge to drive his fist through Danbury’s face.

  Which made it all the worse that Farley, Trident, and Lockley chose that moment to return.

  They did not, of course, allow Garrett’s presence to go unnoticed.

  Farley had the audacity to comment first. “What kind of stench is this, Spencer? It seems your servants have forgotten to remove yesterday’s rubbish!”

  Lockley and Trident guffawed at the statement. Danbury winced at his cohorts’ words. He, at least, knew better.

  Garrett, no longer feeling amiable, brushed at some invisible lint on his sleeve before looking up again. Although his glare bore into Farley, Garrett’s words addressed Stone. He refused to be baited. “I will not abuse your mother’s hospitality, Stone, by responding to your guest’s words tonight.” He swept his gaze from Farley and Danbury over to Lockley and Trident before settling it back upon Stone. “But if they do not step aside so I might pass, I’m more than willing to meet them in the park at dawn.”

  Danbury pivoted and pounded his head into the wall three times. Farley, more bluster than courage, stepped back, and his sidekicks followed suit. Garrett nodded in Stone’s direction and then brushed past them.

  Entering the drawing room, he took a moment to bring his anger under control. The buffoons he’d met in the foyer were of no consequence, and yet he was furious. He
was furious with Stone for inviting him here. He was furious with Danbury for his comment about Lady Natalie. But most of all he was furious with himself.

  He was furious with himself for caring. When in London, earlier this summer, he’d erected a wall of sorts. Over the past few days, however, it had crumbled.

  Without thinking, he ran a hand through his hair and then grimaced as it came away with the pomade Marcus had applied earlier. God dammit! He searched through his pockets, located a handkerchief, and then wiped away the annoying oil. He’d been enraged by Danbury’s words implying that Lady Natalie would be receptive to his advances. He clenched his hands to stop them from shaking.

  And then a dainty, white-gloved hand settled atop his fists.

  He didn’t need to look up to see whose it was. He knew her by her scent, by the sounds of her breath, the way her presence changed the air around him.

  “They are of no account, whatsoever.” She sounded annoyed. “They have not been invited, and I’m sure my brother is this very moment seeing them back to their mounts. He would not abide their presence here this evening.” She went from annoyed to outright angry. It was as though she wanted to protect him, Garrett Castleton! This thought alone lightened his mood. Earnest blue eyes held concern as she peered up at him.

  “You look beautiful tonight.” He didn’t know where the words came from. They escaped of their own accord. But he could not help himself. She wore her hair in a loose chignon, wavy tendrils caressing her nape. And her dress, rather than compete for attention, enhanced her beauty. Although the bodice was modestly cut, the embroidered design accentuated the delightful curves hidden beneath.

  She blushed at his compliment. “My thanks to you. You are looking fine this evening as well, my lord.”

  He liked it when she “my lorded” him. Not because it reminded him of the title he held, but because she said it when she felt flustered.

  Tilting her head, she reached up a hand to his hair. “Except you’ve mussed your hair here.” She removed her glove and plucked and smoothed his hair for just a few seconds. The motion drew them closer together. He wanted to lean down and place his lips on the spot where her neck curved into her shoulder but of course could not. He leaned into her, however, and inhaled her scent.

 

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