Beauty and the Brooding Lord

by Sarah Mallory

  ‘And since most of ’em are related to my own staff, everyone at Prior’s Holt knows of your visitor by now. Not to worry. I’ll have a word, stop it spreading further if I can. Of course, it would be better coming from Lottie, as mistress of the house, but she’s still in town. I’ll write to her, tell her to do what she can to squash any rumours she hears.’

  ‘You are both very good, but I fear it may be too late for that.’

  ‘Well, there is no need to involve yourself further,’ said Tony with finality. ‘You know as well as I that once gossip starts it must run its course, and if Hambridge is wise he will remove his sister from town until this has all died down.’ He rose. ‘Now, I had best be getting on to Prior’s Holt or they will not have time to find me a decent dinner.’

  ‘If that is the case then you can come back here and take pot luck with me,’ said Quinn, accompanying him out of the house.

  Once his friend had driven away Quinn returned to his study, but the letters he had planned to deal with that morning remained unopened. Instead he sat in his chair for a full half-hour, staring into space and thinking over all Tony had told him.

  * * *

  ‘Smile, Serena. And sit up straight. Remember this is for your benefit.’

  Dorothea’s hissed whisper was cut short as she turned to greet Lady Drycroft, whose carriage had drawn up alongside their own. It was the third day running that Dorothea had taken Serena out at the fashionable hour and the May sunshine had encouraged even greater crowds than usual to throng Hyde Park. Progress around the gravelled drives was little faster than a walk.

  It was a nightmare, thought Serena. To be smiling, calmly exchanging greetings, when all she wanted was to hide from the world. It was her own fault, she had compromised herself by running off with a man and Dorothea and Henry were doing their best to mend matters. All that was expected of Serena was that she appear in public and act as if nothing had happened.

  Two weeks ago, she would not have doubted her ability to ride the storm. But she was not the same confident lady who had set out to meet Sir Timothy Forsbrook. She had lost her self-assurance and no longer felt any interest in what was happening to her. However, it was easier to try to please Dorothea than oppose her, so she smiled and replied politely to the barbed comments of the spiteful. At the same time she discounted her friends’ kind words, knowing she had brought this fate upon herself. Her face ached with smiling. All she really wanted to do was to take to her bed. To go to sleep and never wake up.

  * * *

  They returned to Bruton Street an hour later and entered the house just as Henry was crossing the hall. He waited while they discarded their bonnets and spencers, then ushered them into the drawing room.

  ‘How was your drive around the Ring today?’

  ‘Humiliating,’ replied Dorothea. ‘We received only the coolest of nods from several matrons, including Lady Mattishall. The Duchess of Bonsall cut us altogether! No one believes Serena has been ill. I have had to suffer innumerable sly remarks.’

  ‘They will come to believe it, if you persevere. They have to believe it,’ Henry added, his teeth clenched. He shrugged off his anxiety and said more cheerfully, ‘Now that Serena is out and about again this little setback will soon be forgotten.’

  ‘Little setback?’ Dorothea retorted. ‘Have you not noticed how few invitations we have received recently?’ She waved towards the mantelpiece, which was usually crowded with cards. ‘And even when I do go out, I am teased about it constantly.’

  Serena thought that if Dorothea had not been so cool to those she considered inferior, then society might have been a little more sympathetic, but she said nothing. It did not seem worth the effort.

  ‘Well, we must bear it for a few more weeks,’ Henry replied. ‘Then you can leave town for the summer. What say you to hiring a house at Worthing? You and Serena can travel ahead and I will join you as soon as Parliament rises.’

  ‘Worthing! What is the good of that, when everyone of note will be in Brighton?’

  ‘That is just the point, Dorothea,’ Henry explained patiently. ‘By the time you meet your acquaintances again, other scandals will have arisen to eclipse Serena’s disgrace. Poor Brummell, for one, the wolves are already circling his door. And who knows,’ he added hopefully, ‘you might by then have found a husband for her.’

  ‘You forget, Henry, I do not want a husband.’

  Serena’s quiet words brought a cry of exasperation from Dorothea.

  ‘You see,’ she cried, turning to her husband. ‘You see what I have to put up with? If ever there was such an ungrateful wretch. Oh, go up to your room, girl, and change for dinner. Henry, where are you going?’

  ‘I am also going up to change, my dear,’ said her long-suffering husband. ‘I am engaged to dine at White’s tonight, so you and Serena must excuse me.’

  Serena quietly followed Henry out of the room, wishing that she, too, could escape what promised to be a depressing meal in the company of her sister-in-law.

  * * *

  ‘Well, now, Miss Serena, ’tis a beautiful morning.’

  Serena winced at Polly’s cheerful greeting. She heard the rattle of crockery and dragged herself up in bed so that her maid could place the tray across her lap.

  ‘Will you be joining my lady for breakfast today, ma’am?’

  Polly had asked the same question every morning since Serena had returned from Melham Court and Serena’s reply never varied.

  ‘Not today, Polly. A cup of tea will suffice.’

  The maid’s eyes moved to the plate of bread and butter lying on the tray, but she had given up trying to persuade her mistress to eat anything in the mornings. She left Serena to drink her tea while she bustled about the room, collecting together the clean chemise, stockings and gown that her mistress would wear that day.

  ‘Lady Hambridge is expecting visitors this morning, Miss Serena, and she has asked that you wear the powder-blue muslin.’

  ‘Visitors?’

  ‘Miss Althea—Lady Newbold, I should say, miss. She is bringing Master Arthur to visit his grandmama.’

  ‘Oh, Lord.’

  Serena closed her eyes. Althea was Henry and Dorothea’s only child. She was the same age as Serena but had already been married for two years and provided her husband with a lusty heir. Dorothea was understandably proud of her daughter’s achievements, as she constantly reminded Serena. There was no doubt that Althea would want to hear every horrid detail of this latest scrape, while Serena would be expected to play the doting aunt to little Arthur who, in her opinion, was developing into a bad-tempered child.

  She gave a little sigh. ‘Pray give my apologies and say I have the headache.’

  ‘I will, miss,’ said Polly, shaking out the blue muslin. ‘But not if you are going to mope around in your room all day. We’ll get you dressed and you can stroll in the gardens.’ The maid met Serena’s questioning eyes with a determined look in her own. ‘Are we agreed, miss?’

  * * *

  The sun shone down on Serena’s bare head and the bright day lifted her spirits sufficiently for her to think Polly had been right to press her into going out of doors. She allowed her shawl to slip off her shoulders so she could feel the sun’s comforting warmth on her skin. The black cloud that enveloped her spirits was still there, but it had thinned a little.

  The crunch of footsteps on the gravel path behind her made her turn.

  ‘Lord Quinn!’ Her pulse quickened. Embarrassment, she thought, given the circumstances of their previous meeting.

  He came towards her, his large frame blocking the sun. ‘The butler told me you were taking the air.’

  ‘And my sister?’ She looked past him, expecting to see Dorothea hurrying along behind.

  ‘Lady Hambridge has a guest, so I said not to bother her. I would find you myself.’

  Serena imag
ined the servants falling back before him, if not cowed by his sheer size, then dominated by the force of his personality.

  ‘Are you come to town to buy more artwork, my lord?’

  ‘No, I came to see how you go on.’

  He stopped, towering over her, the brim of his hat shadowing his face. He looked serious, which was an advantage, since it saved her the trouble of smiling.

  ‘As you see, sir.’

  ‘You are very pale. I had expected you to have fully recovered your looks by now.’

  ‘You say what everyone else is thinking, my lord. Which is why I am in the garden today.’

  ‘Then let us walk.’

  ‘The path is not wide enough.’

  ‘It is if you take my arm.’

  Serena hesitated, then slipped her hand on to his sleeve and they strolled on.

  ‘This is a very small garden, compared to your own grounds at Melham Court.’

  ‘It is sufficient to give you an airing,’ he replied. ‘You have been indoors too long and have lost your bloom.’ She winced and he said quickly, ‘Forgive me, I am not in the habit of making pretty speeches.’

  A wry smile flickered within her. ‘I am becoming accustomed to it, my lord. It does not offend me.’

  ‘It doesn’t?’ He stopped and looked down at her. ‘My friends tell me I can be brutal.’

  There was a shadow of concern in his hazel eyes. It disconcerted her and she looked away.

  ‘You tell the truth. I appreciate that.’

  They had completed a full circuit of the walled garden before Lord Quinn spoke again.

  ‘I believe there has been some talk.’

  ‘Yes. I was recognised, at the inn. My brother has denied it, of course, but to little effect.’

  ‘And your keeping to the house has not helped.’

  ‘No.’ She touched her cheek. ‘But it was agreed I should not be seen abroad until the bruises had died down.’

  ‘Were they very painful?’

  ‘No more than I deserve.’

  The words were a whisper, but he heard them.

  ‘Forsbrook is the villain here, Serena, not you.’ He drew a breath, as if reining in his anger, and laid his free hand over her fingers, where they rested on his arm. ‘You will come about, my dear.’

  The change in tone brought a sudden constriction to her throat. She fought it down and with it the desire to tell him that she did not want to come about.

  She said, ‘My brother and his wife are doing their best to make sure of it. I have started going out in the carriage. They think it is very necessary that I am seen.’ She bit her lip. ‘You may not know, Sir Timothy set it about that the plan to elope was mine.’

  ‘Yes, I had heard,’ he growled. ‘Hambridge has denied it, of course.’

  ‘Yes, and I hear that Sir Timothy has left town now.’

  ‘I know.’ She looked up quickly and he added, ‘I, er, persuaded him.’

  Serena caught the dangerous note in his voice and decided it would not be wise to ask the means of his persuasion.

  ‘That was kind of you, but the damage is done, I fear.’ Serena thought of Dorothea, sitting with her daughter in the drawing room. She said lightly, ‘My reputation is ruined. My sister-in-law says no one will marry me now.’

  ‘I will, Serena. I will marry you.’

  Chapter Five

  There, he had said it. Quinn felt the little hand on his sleeve tremble.

  ‘It...it is not your place to offer for me,’ she said, her voice constricted. ‘None of this is your fault. You should not be punished for another’s wickedness.’

  ‘You have a very low opinion of yourself, my dear, if you think it would be a punishment to marry you.’

  ‘Pray do not joke with me, my lord.’

  ‘I do not. I say nothing but the truth.’

  She shook her head. ‘I thank you for your kind offer, Lord Quinn, but I cannot accept.’

  ‘Why not?’

  ‘Because you have no reason to marry me.’

  A hiss of exasperation escaped him. ‘Serena, you spent the night in my house.’

  ‘It was an act of kindness. You rescued me.’

  ‘That is beside the point. I took you to Melham Court. Mrs Talbot prepared a bed for you, but my entire household is aware you were in my room until dawn. My neighbour was in town and heard the gossip about what occurred at Hitchin and he is already drawing his own conclusions. It is only a matter of time before it becomes public knowledge.’

  She waved distractedly. ‘But you do not want to marry me!’

  He caught her hands and turned her to face him. ‘I am one-and-thirty and I must marry one day. It may as well be you as anyone.’

  A laugh escaped her. ‘When you put it so prettily, my lord, how can I refuse?’

  ‘Precisely.’ He smiled. ‘I think we shall deal very well together, Serena. You are not unintelligent, you will not expect us to live in each other’s pockets and there is plenty to keep you occupied. I have several properties, some are let, but there is more than one that requires a mistress. Of course, if you would rather not trouble yourself with such things there are housekeepers—’

  ‘No, no, my lord, I like to be busy and would happily run your houses. That is, if I should accept your offer.’

  ‘Then what say you, Serena—will you be my wife?’ He saw the troubled look in her eyes and turned away, fixing his attention on a bee hovering around a nearby rose bush. He cleared his throat. ‘If you are worried about the...er...other duties of a wife, I give you my word I will not force myself upon you. We will have separate bedchambers, and I shall respect your wishes on that aspect of our marriage. I shall not touch you without your consent. Until you ask it of me.’

  The image flashed into his mind of Serena rising from the bath, her hair curling wildly from the steam and the water running from her naked body. Could he do this? Could he share a house with this woman and not take her to his bed? Easily, he told himself. This was a marriage of expedience, to save his reputation as much as Serena’s. The affections of neither party were engaged.

  So why did he feel such disappointment at her next words?

  ‘I am very grateful of the honour you do me, Lord Quinn, but I cannot accept your offer.’ She withdrew her hands from his clasp. ‘It is not right that you should suffer for the rest of your life on account of my folly.’

  ‘Suffer? Madam, I do not consider marriage to you a cause of misery. I should count myself honoured to have secured your hand.’ She looked up, her dark, liquid eyes shadowed with doubt. He said, ‘I am not the marrying kind, Serena, but I am a target for the tricks and stratagems of every matchmaking mother in town. I have even been pursued into Hertfordshire, upon occasion. I soon learned that being civil has little effect on determined parents or their daughters.’

  ‘So you became the rudest man in town,’ she murmured, a faint smile replacing the frown in her eyes.

  ‘Oh, I was already that,’ he told her. ‘I do not suffer fools gladly and my manner of plain speaking is not to everyone’s taste, but many females are willing to overlook that, to secure a rich husband. There is a novel out at present which is very popular—you may have read it. It begins by asserting that every single man of large fortune must be in want of a wife.’

  ‘Yes, I know it. But it is love that triumphs in the end. You may yet fall in love, my lord.’

  ‘No, I assure you that will not happen.’ Quinn paused. ‘I was engaged, once, but the lady died.’

  ‘I am very sorry.’

  He waved a hand, as if to deflect her sympathy. ‘It was a long time ago. The past is gone. We cannot change it.’

  ‘No, but it can haunt us.’ She twisted her hands together. ‘Perhaps you remember my mother...no?’ She gave a little smile. ‘Then it is only right you know, so you
may reconsider offering for me. She caused quite a scandal some dozen years ago when she ran off and married a rich Italian. My father had not been dead many months.’ She gave a little shrug. ‘I barely remember her. The thing is...’ She paused again. ‘I have been told that I am very like her, in looks. And now that I have created a scandal, they will say I am like her in other ways, too.’

  ‘I do not believe that.’

  She flushed. ‘No, I do not think it is true.’

  ‘Then let us waste no more time on it.’ He waved an impatient hand. ‘Consider this, instead. In marrying me you would gain the protection of my name.’

  ‘And you would have protection from unscrupulous husband-hunters.’

  ‘Exactly, madam. So, Serena, what is your answer?’

  Quinn thought he should leave, give her time to consider the matter. He was about to suggest as much when a maid came hurrying towards them.

  ‘Miss Russington, the mistress has asked that you come to the drawing room. Immediately.’

  Serena looked at Polly, who shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  ‘I beg your pardon, ma’am.’ She cast a nervous look towards Lord Quinn. ‘I told her ladyship that you was in the gardens and she said I was to fetch you at once, no excuses.’ Polly dragged in a deep breath, as if steeling herself to continue. ‘She said, ma’am, that if you’re well enough to walk in the gardens then you’re well enough to join her and Lady Newbold, and to look after Master Arthur.’

  ‘And who the devil might these people be?’ demanded Lord Quinn.

  Serena explained. ‘Lady Newbold is my niece, Lady Hambridge’s daughter. Arthur is her son, a grossly indulged infant who cries all the time. Possibly because he is overfed,’ she added thoughtfully. ‘Dorothea will want me to amuse him so she and Althea can talk uninterrupted.’

  ‘Very much like a spinster aunt with nothing better to do,’ Quinn muttered.

  He had voiced her own thoughts and Serena could not quite stifle a sigh.

  ‘Perhaps you should let me accompany you,’ he suggested. ‘We could inform Lady Hambridge and her daughter that the situation has changed.’ He was regarding her steadily. ‘Well, madam, what do you say. Will you accept my hand in marriage?’