“You’re welcome, Bennett.” The mirth in the duchess’s voice was unmistakable, but she flawlessly kept a straight face. “Perhaps that will curtail the duke’s habit of escorting you to the kitchen in the middle of the night. It disrupts the entire household.”
“No.” The duke’s growl softened into a rough purr. “Just you, my little spoilsport.” His eyes twinkled as he gazed at the duchess. “In our defense, Ginny, the boy and I have a sweet tooth.”
After the laughter died down, Emma surveyed the table. “Will London be ready for the Lawson family when you take the town by storm?”
Julia gently laid her spoon aside and beamed. “Indeed, Lady Somerton. Your family has made all our dreams come true. I only hope that my sisters and I make you all proud.”
“I hope we all survive the night.” Faith played with her serviette in a poor attempt to hide her nervousness. It was no secret to anyone at the table that March’s sister was terrified at the thought of dancing. She could dance, but feared no one would ask her because of her limp.
Claire reached over and patted Faith’s hand in a show of solidarity. “Just wait, Faith. You’ll be the belle of the ball. No one will be able to resist your beauty, but more importantly, your generous spirit.” She glanced at her husband, and a slight smirk adorned her lips. “If I was allowed, I’d ensure you had a dance partner for every set.”
Her husband scooped up her hand and pressed a kiss. “Don’t push me, Claire. I acquiesced to your demand we attend for an hour. Remember what Dr. Camden said. You have to start getting more rest. Liam is up at all hours of the night.”
“I know,” Claire offered. “Still two hours wouldn’t hurt—”
“I agree with Pembrooke,” Lord Somerton announced. “We won’t stay much longer than an hour ourselves.”
Emma shot a smile at her husband.
“We’ll see how you feel tomorrow evening.” To appease you, I won’t mingle with the guests, and I’ll observe the proceedings from the mezzanine.
With startling turquoise eyes and blond hair, the earl had to be the most handsome man in London. When he favored his pregnant wife with a blinding smile, it took every female’s breath away. With a collective sigh around the table, everyone seemed to acknowledge the love between the couple. The earl and Emma’s friendship had transformed into a love story even the bard from Avon would find inspiring.
March leaned back in her chair to enjoy the moment. Memories from long ago rushed forward. Her parents had shared similar evenings like this with her and her siblings. A contentment that had escaped her for years slowly took command of her mood. She was truly happy the Langham family had welcomed hers with open arms, but tonight was a simple remembrance of all they’d lost, too—the security and love her parents would have showered on their own children.
“Lady Somerton, I too am looking forward to tomorrow night’s ball,” Bennett announced.
Emma laughed, the rich sound brightening the room. “I do hope you’ll save me the first dance, Lord Lawson.”
Somerton placed his hand possessively over his wife’s fingers. “Lawson, you’re treading on thin ice if you think I won’t fight for her.”
Bennett delivered his best roguish smile. Truthfully, it closely resembled a charming lopsided grin. “Well, Lord Somerton”—Bennett leaned back in his chair and regarded the earl—“your wife did ask me for the dance first.”
Laughter rang out throughout the room.
Somerton’s eyes crinkled in amusement. “You make an excellent point. I shall have to try harder to win my lady wife’s affections and keep young rogues like you from pushing me away.”
Faith caught March’s gaze and smiled, then dipped her head in acknowledgment. Their brother was transforming into a man before their eyes.
A flurry of activity from the attending footmen brought everyone’s attention to the entrance of the dining room. Lord William and Michael entered with a flourish. Tiny crystals of snow clung to their shoulders and caught the light of the chandelier’s candles, giving the men the appearance of magical creatures.
March’s body vibrated like a tuning fork when she caught her first glimpse of him. An image of Michael sweeping her away from the room and bestowing a kiss crowded out all thoughts and created a smoldering heat in her belly. To have a private moment with him would turn the wonderful evening into something enchanting.
She released a pent-up sigh. It was ridiculous to entertain such thoughts. She couldn’t expect more and had to prepare herself for the sight of him dancing and flirting with women who were elegant, sophisticated, and beautiful—everything she was not.
To settle her runaway thoughts, March bent her head and concentrated on the perfectly roasted fowl on her plate. Someone slipped into the seat beside her. When she turned to greet Lord William, it was Michael who bestowed a grin on her, once more transforming him into her David. Her heart beat frantically as if trying to break free.
“Good evening, March,” he whispered. Without waiting for a reply, he turned and greeted his family. “I apologize that William and I are late. Every fool in London must be out shopping at the last minute for Mother’s ball. I’ve never seen such traffic.”
The duke smiled warmly at his sons. “As long as you both are safe and sound, no one minds.”
“He’s just making excuses,” William taunted. “I’m late because he’s always late.”
“A nasty habit you need to cure yourself of,” the duke gently admonished.
“Did you have a productive day?” the duchess asked.
Michael directed his brilliant gaze at his mother. The Cavensham men’s sapphire-blue eyes were legendary throughout England. Claire and Emma had emerald-green eyes that fascinated everyone. Yet to March, Michael’s surpassed them all in their devastating beauty.
“Indeed. I worked on estate matters for McCalpin Manor all day. I’m pleased to say we accomplished quite a lot.” Michael speared a piece of fowl.
He leaned slightly toward March as he addressed his mother. The heat of his body radiated toward her, and as if drawn by the force of his presence, she drew near. Who could resist such perfection? She shook her head slightly and tried to settle once again. This was dangerous. For her own well-being, she needed to be cautious and keep a respectable distance.
William had taken the seat across the table from her. Since the rules of etiquette were relaxed when the family dined together, March addressed him. “Lord William, did you enjoy your day?”
He squirmed slightly in his chair. If she hadn’t been watching him closely, she might have missed it. Immediately, Michael stiffened beside her. Obviously, she’d struck a nerve somehow.
“Hmm, yes. I worked on estate matters also.” He devoted his attention to the piece of beef on his plate. “Delicious meal. I’m famished.”
“Where is your estate, Lord William?” Julia asked.
“I don’t have one, Miss Julia.” William turned to Pembrooke and Somerton. “What time will you arrive tomorrow? Perhaps we might have some time to chat before the guests arrive?”
“The duchess commands we arrive no later than two hours before the ball.” Pembrooke nodded at Somerton. “So, we’ll plan on it.”
Somerton addressed Daphne. “How are you managing work at the bank? I want Emma to start taking more time away.”
“Truthfully, I could use a little help.” Daphne sighed, then grinned. “This afternoon, I was bombarded by no less than ten customers and several of them had to wait. Do you know anyone who has a talent for numbers?”
Somerton’s intense gaze settled on March, and she immediately straightened in her seat as if being called to attention by the whistle of a British Navy Admiral. The earl then lavished one of his dazzling smiles. “Miss Lawson, would you have any interest in working at the bank? When Emma approached you before, you were too busy at Lawson Court. Since you’re in London, perhaps your schedule might allow you to help.”
The duchess smiled sweetly in her direction. That sign
of affection was March’s undoing. “I’d love to, my lord. Only if it’s acceptable to your wife.”
Emma scoffed. “Please, March. You know how long I’ve wanted you to work there. With your business experience, you’ll help make the bank even more successful.”
Somerton protectively placed his arm around his wife’s chair. “Then it’s settled. How about if you come to the bank the day after the ball?”
“Yes, I’d like that very much.” The inclusive Langham family once again had taken her under their wings. “Thank you.”
Emma smiled and nodded. “Excellent.”
The duke turned his attention to Pembrooke, and the two men started a conversation about the upcoming week in the House of Lords.
“March?” Michael whispered.
As if called by a sorcerer, March slid her gaze to his.
“Are you happy?” he asked. With a stretch of his long legs brushing against her, he relaxed beside her.
The simple question along with his touch made her feel almost silly with giddiness. With an overwhelming lightness she hadn’t felt in years, not since her parents had died, she managed a slight nod.
“I’m delighted.” His whisper reminded her of a caress, the kind where a gentle finger ran across the skin of her face.
The tenderness in his gaze startled her. She’d imagined he touched her, hadn’t she? Her gaze swept across the table. Hopefully, no one noticed the effect he had on her. Unfortunately, William stared at her as if she were some unique creature from the ocean bottom.
When Michael turned his attention to his mother, William leaned across the table. “What have you done with my brother, Miss Lawson?” he whispered. “Cast a magical spell on him?” Totally at ease, he slowly reclined and regarded her with a wary smile.
She took a sip of wine. Something was going on between the two brothers, and she had no idea what it was. They spent an inordinate amount of time together. When Julia had asked William about his estate work, he’d been quick to change the subject.
She had to acknowledge the truth. If she had the opportunity like him to spend her days in Michael’s company, the sheep at Lawson Court might have to fend for themselves.
Chapter Ten
The family dinner ended, and everyone rose from the table. With tomorrow a busy day, no one lingered over tea or port. McCalpin exchanged good-byes with the family members who were leaving for their own homes. A sudden wave of discontent bit with enough force that he stopped before taking his own leave. The cause couldn’t be that he tired of his lonely existence. He’d never experienced such an emotion in his life. Yet, seeing Claire and Emma leave with their husbands left him on edge for some reason.
He dismissed the irritation. It was little more than a reminder he needed to discuss what happened at the modiste’s shop with March and explain she had no cause to worry over money anymore.
He briefly wished William a good night, then turned to March. “Would you have a few moments this evening? I’d like to show you something.”
“Of course.” She dipped her head, and a slight pink tinted her cheeks.
Every time he drew near, she seemed to blush. Really, it was completely charming. Without a word, he leisurely led her through a stroll of the various halls of the massive home until they reached the family’s portrait gallery, a lovely room that showcased the many generations of the Dukes of Langham and their families from the first duke, William, who had served King William and Queen Mary to the current duke, McCalpin’s father. Floor-to-ceiling windows surrounded one wall and gave a spectacular view of the increasing snowfall.
Standing elegantly tall, she surveyed the scene outside before turning to him. Her face had softened, making her even more beautiful.
“It’s so peaceful with the snow.” She turned her attention back to the view of Langham Park. Her straight profile was like a lightning rod that forced a jolt of desire to charge through his body. He took a deep breath. He wanted to ease her concerns about money, not seduce her. However, it was becoming bloody near impossible to ignore her and the effect she had on him.
“It’s a magnificent sight,” he agreed, not tearing his gaze from her person. He cleared his throat and took a step forward. “March, let’s sit.”
He waited for her to take the settee that faced the window before he joined her. His leg pressed against hers, and he frowned. He hadn’t done that deliberately, but he relished the heat of their contact.
She frowned in return. “Have I done something to displease you?”
“No, just lost in my thoughts.” He smiled, hoping she’d relax.
She adjusted her bottom until they touched from hip to knee. She seemed completely unaware of his discomfort as she studied the softly falling snow.
“My mother shared what happened at the dress shop yesterday.” He studied her profile. When she swallowed gently, the movement emphasized the elegance of her long neck. God, he was tempted to place his lips there to see if she tasted as sweet as she appeared. A wild need to feel the throbbing of her pulse against his mouth coursed through him.
She turned, and a gentle smile favored her lips. “I’m afraid I made a fool of myself at Her Grace’s favorite shop—”
He touched her lips with his forefinger to halt her words. “No. I apologize. I should have had this conversation with you earlier. I just assumed you were aware I’d take care of the expenses for all the preparations for the Season. Mother, of course, wanted to pay for your new wardrobes.”
“Why would you do that?” she asked with incredulity. Her brow creased as she contemplated him as if he were a puzzle. “That’s not proper.”
“It’s what a guardian does.” He took a deep breath and continued. “My uncle was a close friend to your father’s. My family is extremely loyal to friends, and I wouldn’t have it any other way. By giving assistance, I know that the effort would please my namesake if he were here today.”
She clasped her hands together and stared at them. “Thank you. That’s very kind. Please don’t worry about me. I’ll take care of my own needs. My sisters”—she cleared throat—“and I appreciate all you and your family have done for us. For the first time in years, my family is safe and genuinely happy.”
Much like he’d touch a skittish filly, he gently tilted her chin with one hand and forced her to look at him. “I want to afford you the same courtesy. I understand you only ordered two dresses. You’ll need additional gowns with the busy social schedule Mother has planned. You’re not still intent on altering your grandmother’s gowns, are you?”
She shrugged her shoulders. “There’s no need to worry. Faith and Julia offered to help me. They won’t allow me to dress in anything that would be embarrassing to you or your family, I promise.”
“You’d never embarrass me.” Her stubbornness bordered on foolishness. Her dress, an elegant ivory satin trimmed with crimson ribbon, proved his point. He considered whether this was a silly game, but dismissed it. March was always straightforward even when he confronted her about embezzling the trust money. “Still, I insist you let me help. I want this to be special for you, too.”
Her face was as still as the newly fallen snow. Finally, she smiled, and the cold drafts that swirled around them seemed to calm. “I appreciate the sentiment. But I need to save money—”
“March.” He released a frustrated sigh. The blasted woman insisted on this nonsensical idea of finances. He had the money to help her and her family. He and William had gone through a generous budget that would have little impact on his investments or finances. They’d even sought their mother’s council on it, and she’d been stunned at his generosity. “Why are you so adamant about this?”
She seemed somewhat sheepish. “I worry about the future for Bennett and me. I need to be certain that there will be enough so his estate doesn’t suffer. You’ve never had to experience the distress of looking at accounts and bills and wondering—”
“It’s not your worry anymore.” If anything was more certain than
the sun rising, it was his complete wonderment at how to make sense of bills and accounts.
She smiled as if to appease him. “Thank you, Michael.”
The sound of his name from her lips made his stomach twist into endless somersaults. Surprisingly, the effect was quite pleasant. Still, he wasn’t convinced she really believed him or even trusted him.
“You’re welcome. May I escort you to the family quarters? I need to go home before Donar decides he’s had enough of the snow for the evening.”
As they walked, he slowed his pace to have as much time in her company as possible without being too obvious. At the bottom of the steps to the family quarter, she studied his face with the most delightful smile. “Isn’t Donar the name of the Norse god of storms?”
McCalpin leaned close enough that he caught her sweet lilac fragrance. His senses went on alert as every particle of his being became aware of her as a woman—one his body wanted.
“He doesn’t like to get wet,” he offered with a lift of one eyebrow.
She laughed, and the rich throaty sound was something he could easily grow accustomed to—every night.
“Good night, Michael.” She turned and headed up the stairs.
“Good night, March,” he whispered. God only knew how he would survive this guardianship.
And her.
* * *
March entered her bedchamber where a warm fire blazed in the fireplace. She marveled at the extravagances bestowed upon her and her family. The amount of wood in the fireplace would have kept Lawson Court’s kitchen warm for three days.
She kicked off her slippers and looked with longing toward the bed. All hints of sleepiness disappeared when she saw four large boxes tied together with an exquisite black satin ribbon.
She approached the bed gingerly, then chided herself. A ribbon with an attached card from Mademoiselle Mignon’s shop hung from the top box. A footman had obviously made a delivery mistake. The packages must belong to one of her sisters. She reached to remove the boxes from her bed when the card stole her breath.
The Luck of the Bride--The Cavensham Heiresses Page 12