“You do know that I love you?”
“It would be nice to hear you say it,” she answered shyly.
“I love you, Miss Lynette Richmond.” James had clasped her hands in his and was looking intently into her face. “And it is you I love, Lynette, and not just your beauty. Is there any hope that you might come to love me?”
“No hope, I am afraid, James.”
The look in his eyes was so awful that Lynette immediately regretted her teasing.
“No hope, James,” she continued quickly, “because I already love you.”
James forgot all propriety in his relief and crushed her against him, raining kisses on her face and neck that made them both forget the rain itself, which was beginning to come down harder and faster.
It was only when James felt her gown beginning to get wet that he pulled back. “We’ll have to return to the carriage, I’m afraid,” he said, pulling off his coat and placing it over her shoulders.
“One more kiss,” whispered Lynette, who was too hungry for his mouth on hers to let him go so soon. And so James bent down once again and was surprised to feel her lips opening over his, inviting him to make the kiss deeper.
“I think it is good that it is raining,” said James when he finally pulled away.
Lynette blushed, and they turned back down the path, this time with James’s arm over her shoulders and her arm around his waist. Before they reached the carriage, however, Lynette stopped and looked up at him. “James. Didn’t you forget something?”
James looked around. “Why, no, I don’t think there is anything we left behind.”
“Didn’t you mean to ask me to marry you, Lord Clitheroe?”
“Why, I did, didn’t I?”
“No, you didn’t, James,” Lynette replied, her eyes laughing up at him.
James started to sputter an apology.
“Yes, James, I will marry you, if you will only ask me.”
“Will you indeed, Miss Richmond?” James asked, smiling at his own confusion and her teasing.
“I will, Lord Clitheroe.”
The ride home was anticlimactic. Because of the abigail’s presence, there was no opportunity for anything more than brushing hands. When they reached the house, however, the maid slipped out quickly and Henry took a long time with the horses, which gave James a minute or two to engage his fiancée in another passionate kiss.
When he finally broke away, he asked if her father was home. “For although I already have his permission, we should tell him our news.”
“He is most likely in the library, working on his book.”
“Oh, dear,” groaned James.
“What is it, James?”
“I am feeling very foolish, but I have completely forgotten about your research.”
“Are you bothered by it, James? As a member of the eccentric Richmond family, I have been free to do what I want. Will I have to change if I become an Otley?” Lynette held her breath. She loved him, but she was not about to give up that part of her life.
“I am afraid your duties as viscountess will pull you away from your work more than you would wish. Do you think you can stand that?”
“Do you wish to live completely immersed in Society, James?” she countered.
“To tell you the truth, no. We will, of course, have to spend some time in London, but we can use my estate in Yorkshire to get away from everyone.”
“And the Otleys will not mind a bluestocking daughter-in-law?”
“The Otleys,” declared James, “will do what I tell them, as head of the family.”
Lynette giggled.
“I sound pompous, don’t I?”
“Only a little. But seriously, James, have you considered what marriage into my family means for you? The gossips will have a field day.”
“I love you, Lynette Richmond, and your family could be a team of Morris dancers, for all I care.”
“Father has danced with the men of Bainbridge, James. I am sure he would teach you,” she replied with mock seriousness.
James laughed. “Enough of your teasing, woman. Let us get inside and make our announcement.”
* * *
Chapter 39
The Richmonds’ response to the news was, of course, far different from the Otleys. Her father looked long and hard into his daughter’s eyes and then gave her a long hug, which helped him mask his emotion. He was quite satisfied with the clear-eyed happiness shining from Lynette’s face. Lady Elizabeth, once she had offered her congratulations, drew James aside and started talking to him about his plans for the Yorkshire estate.
“Be careful, James,” cautioned her husband, “or Elizabeth will have you running more sheep than you have room for.”
“I am hoping that Lynette and I can spend quite a bit of time there, so I welcome any ideas for improvement,” James replied.
Kate had a hard time controlling her emotions. The look on James and Lynette’s faces brought tears to her eyes. Her sister, whom no one had ever thought would marry, was clearly head over heels in love with Lord Clitheroe. But Lynette’s marriage, no matter how much time she spent in Yorkshire, meant that Kate would be very much alone. First Gareth gone, and now Lynette. And so I will be the unwed sister, taking care of our parents and the household, she thought. She was ashamed that the tears in her eyes were both from happiness and the thought of her own loneliness. As she watched Lynette and James, she couldn’t help wondering what it would have been like to be the one announcing a betrothal to Lord Sidmouth. Lord Sidmouth, indeed, she immediately scolded herself. The man had barely said two words to her over the last few days, much less expressed any particular interest.
The dowager marchioness was very much aware of what her younger niece must be feeling. The Season would soon come to an end, and Kate would return to Richmond House, nothing in her life changed. She was determined to speak with her niece alone and requested her company on a shopping expedition the next day. Kate was surprised, because her aunt was far more likely to be off doing her work than traipsing in and out of shops looking at silks and ribbons. But she was pleased to be asked and happy to know she would be away from what was sure to be almost constant chatter about the coming wedding. Despite Lady Elizabeth and Lynette’s usual lack of interest in the usual female pursuits, mother and daughter seemed almost immediately consumed by planning the first wedding in the family all would be present for.
After an hour of shopping, during which Aunt Kate purchased her niece a new reticule and bought a bit of antique lace for Lynette’s gown, the dowager complained that she was tired and hungry and suggested that they stop at Gunter’s for a cup of tea. After they were served, Kate looked over at her aunt and grinned. The dowager was licking cream from a pastry, just like a cat licking up milk.
“I do believe this whole trip was just an excuse for you to have one of these confections, Aunt Kate!”
Her aunt dabbed at her lips and smiled. “I do confess that stopping for tea has always been my favorite part of shopping. But I did have another reason.”
“Yes?”
“I wanted a chance to speak with you alone, my dear. I am wondering how you are feeling about all the excitement surrounding your sister’s betrothal.”
“I am delighted for Lynette, as you know, Aunt.”
“Of course. We all are. But in my happiness for Lynette, I haven’t forgotten you will be returning home with your parents, while Lynette will be starting her married life. Are you very disappointed you haven’t received an offer?”
Kate sighed. “Very disappointed would be too strong, Aunt Kate. But I do have some qualms about being the spinster daughter. Especially, I am ashamed to confess, since we all assumed that Lynette would be the one who remained at home and continued her work with Father. I thought I was more likely to be married.”
“Is there no one for whom you feel a preference?”
Kate hesitated before she replied. “I have had strong feelings about only one man, Aunt. But when I say st
rong feelings, I do not mean all positive,” she added, with a low, trembling laugh. “The Marquess of Sidmouth has provoked me to anger, annoyance, fear, and, I must also confess, attraction.”
“Fear?” replied her aunt with surprise.
“There was a disturbing occurrence early on in our acquaintance. I realize that it was a result of his experiences on the Peninsula, for I do not think he is a truly violent man.” Kate told her aunt the story of the picnic. “And, in addition to whatever he is carrying about with him as a result of the war, he is a terrible rake!”
“Yes, so it seems from the outside. Has he tried his charm on you?”
“No,” replied Kate. “To my great relief…and disappointment.”
They both laughed. “Ah, yes,” said the dowager, “it is one thing to disapprove of a rake. Quite another to feel slighted by him. Yet I am not sure that Lord Sidmouth is a confirmed rake.”
“He has confined himself to married ladies since we returned from Cornwall,” Kate admitted.
“He has also danced with you and Lynette, I believe?”
“Yes, but he has hardly said two words to me. In fact, I am almost ready to believe that his charm was only an illusion.”
“But do you, nevertheless, find him attractive?”
“Yes,” replied Kate slowly. “Although I am ashamed to confess it.”
“Why ashamed, my dear? He is a very attractive man. If I were younger…”
“But surely one would wish to be attracted where there is a mutual respect and interest? He is clearly not interested in me. And I am not at all sure how much I respect him. Although, I must confess, I did, from the beginning, misjudge him about Lynnie. But he disturbs me, Aunt Kate, in a way no man ever has.”
“Good,” declared the dowager.
“Good?”
“Yes, I am glad to see the very practical Miss Kate Richmond is not always practical and rational. And I think you and the marquess would be very well suited.”
“Aunt Kate!”
“Oh, I have been keeping my eye on the two of you. I think it is a good sign, in fact, that he is treating you differently from those other young ladies he was pursuing.”
“Most likely he knows it is because James was wooing Lynette. They are very good friends and obviously we will be seeing him from time to time.”
“That could be. But I noticed how he looked at you in Padstow.”
Kate blushed.
“But you are right. There is something under the surface. Not for you to be afraid of, I am sure, my dear. My intuition about people rarely fails me. The Marquess of Sidmouth is not a violent man. He has, however, some demon that has been driving him. The question is, can that demon be exorcised?”
“I think your charitable work is quite enough for you, Aunt Kate. You do not need to take on the exorcism of demons,” declared Kate, and she changed the topic of conversation to lighter matters.
* * *
Chapter 40
When Miss Richmond’s betrothal was announced, there was the usual gossip, made spicier because she was marrying into the Otley family, and everyone knew that the Otleys had chosen someone else for the viscount. James’s mother, despite her disapproval, was nothing if not loyal to her own son, and refused to be drawn into any criticism, however veiled, of her future in-laws, and managed to survive quite well a family dinner with the Richmonds.
The wedding was to take place in Yorkshire at the end of August. James naturally had asked Harry to stand up for him, so his friend was often invited to the Otleys or the Richmonds for what, he told James, were negotiations worthy of a Wellington campaign.
Lady Otley wanted her son married in a large, society wedding. Lynette wanted to be married in the Hawes parish church, with a simple wedding breakfast at Richmond House. James insisted that since it was her wedding, she could have whatever she wanted. But compromise was reached along the way. Lady Otley would have her chance to shine as a hostess by offering a pre-wedding rout at the end of the Season to which she would invite everyone who was anyone.
Harry enjoyed watching James come into his own. No, the Bishop would not marry them, for the family had a warm relationship with the vicar at Hawes. But he would be most welcome, James added, to baptize their first child. Harry nearly laughed aloud at the expression on Lady Otley’s face at that one.
As he watched James and Lynette together, he wondered that he had ever wanted those kisses on the balcony. She was one of the most beautiful women he had ever met, but he no longer desired her beauty. Again and again he felt pulled to Kate Richmond’s side, only to find himself acting like a raw, inexperienced youth, unable to think of any but the most obvious comments on the wedding or the weather.
As he felt himself drawn closer into the Richmond family circle, he found himself most comfortable with the dowager marchioness. She shared his amusement at the Otley-Richmond maneuvers. He was able to talk naturally to her and enjoyed her witty observations on society in general and the Otleys in particular.
One evening, at the interval of a musical evening which they both attended, he wandered over to where she was standing alone.
“You have been deserted, Lady Tremayne?”
“Not at all. My nephew and his wife are around somewhere, getting me some refreshment.”
“May I keep you company until they return? Such a handsome woman should not be standing alone.”
“You are a very charming man, Lord Sidmouth. You remind me of your father.”
“Ah, yes, I had forgotten you knew him.”
“Indeed, had your mother not arrived upon the scene, I would have been quite tempted to pursue him. Not, of course, that he would have responded to pursuit. I suspect you are very like him in that respect.”
Sidmouth lifted his eyebrows. “I confess to a desire to run in the other direction if a pushing mama with her daughter in tow comes my way.”
“And a tendency to pursue those young ladies whose mamas wish to keep you away?”
Harry gave a mock flinch. “A direct hit, Lady Tremayne.”
“Although I have noticed that your behavior has changed over the past weeks.”
“Indeed?”
“Oh, do not take that haughty tone with me, young man. Old women like me have plenty of time to observe. And I have been worried about you.”
“About me?” Harry hid his immediate reaction, but was touched to think that the dowager actually cared about him. “There is nothing for you to worry about.”
“I have a soft spot in my heart for the son of old friends. And so I worry, my lord. But I can see that I have put your back up, and as I have a favor to ask you, I will pursue it no further.”
“I am yours to command, my lady,” replied Harry with a deep bow and a flourish of his hand, wanting to return the conversation to a more superficial level.
“I need an escort tomorrow.”
“To the opera? Is the family not going? I would be happy to take you.”
“No, I need someone tomorrow afternoon. My usual bodyguard has the toothache, and cannot accompany me. But perhaps you would prefer not to? I could ask Gareth if you have other plans.”
“I said I was yours to command, Lady Tremayne. What time do you need me?”
“Two o’clock?”
“I will see you then.”
* * * *
When Harry awoke the next morning and remembered what he had committed himself to, he groaned. The last place in the world he wished to go was St. Giles. Yet he could hardly let the dowager go alone. He liked her very much, admired her, and was also amused by her eccentricity.
After a light nuncheon, he changed his clothes, having decided that buckskins and a Belcher handkerchief were less likely to draw attention than a Weston coat and trone d’amour. When he arrived at the Richmonds, Lady Tremayne was waiting and nodded her approval.
“Very wise, Lord Sidmouth. They will know you are a gentleman, of course, but at least your clothes don’t flaunt it.”
Lord Sidm
outh’s coachman dropped them off in St. Giles and promised to return in a few hours. As they walked down the street, a few street peddlers nodded to them and the dowager, smiled back, greeting them by name.
“However did you get started doing this?” asked Harry.
“One evening after the theater, my husband and I were accosted by a young prostitute carrying a baby. It was obvious that both mother and child had been infected by the pox. It shocked and appalled and shamed me, that I should be so happy and well off and that a woman not much younger than I was slowly rotting away. I had heard Wesley preach when I was young and had been much affected. It seemed that there was a chance to put some of my so-called Christian beliefs into practice.”
“I imagine some people would think that handing out the information you do is hardly Christian.”
“Then they have not read their testaments. Christ had great sympathy for whores. Look at Mary Magdalene.”
“But he did say ‘Go and sin no more.’ “
“But then I am not Christ, Lord Sidmouth. Who am I to say that to anyone when I am well-clothed and well-fed. I would rather tell the so-called gentlemen who frequent these streets to go and sin no more!”
“I hadn’t thought of it from that perspective,” Harry admitted.
They had come to a dark, dank tenement that listed on its foundation. Three dirty children were playing outside, and Sidmouth was sure he saw a rat scurrying inside to escape the stalking of an emaciated cat, which one of the children sought to pick up. The cat slunk off before Harry could step in and protect the child from the animal most likely infected with God-knew-what diseases.
“I am going to visit someone in this building. You may wait outside, if you wish.”
“Of course not,” said Harry stoutly, although the last thing he wanted to do was to enter the building. He followed the dowager upstairs. The house was airless and the stench abominable. In a small room on the third floor they found a young girl of about fourteen lying on a dirty pallet. Her face was discolored with old bruises and her arm strapped to her side, but her eyes lit up when she saw Lady Tremayne.
Heartless Lord Harry Page 17