“Where does Miss Abbey hail from?”
“Why do you wish to know?”
Devon turned his study from his cards to Alastair. “It would seem you are protective of her.”
She needs protecting from wolves like you, Alastair thought. “As you are a frequent guest at the Château Follet, you must be aware that discretion is the value most honored.”
Devon placed a bet of five guineas and said, “I am more than aware, and during my tenure at Château Follet, I have never once divulged or let slip any indiscretion.”
Alastair put in another five. Devon contemplated before doing the same.
“I think I would like the pleasure of seeing Miss Abbey again.”
“Do you?”
“Indeed, I thought I might be able to find her here in town.”
Alastair felt his body tighten. “I find your interest in her surprising, for she is hardly the most captivating maiden.”
“I am not so shallow that a pretty countenance is all that matters to me. While Miss Abbey may not be a beauty in the ordinary sense of the word, I can see she has other lovely qualities to recommend her.”
“Such as?” Alastair asked, managing not to grit his teeth.
Devon leaned in. “I suspect, as a fellow guest of Madame Follet, you understand what these qualities are.”
“I think my preferences differ from yours.”
“They cannot be too different or we would not both find ourselves at Château Follet.”
“You had the company of Miss Abbey for but a small amount of time, hardly enough to form a substantive impression of her qualities.”
“Au contraire, I am quite good at making an assessment in a short amount of time.”
Alastair would have liked nothing more than to have Devon lose a sum sizable enough to compel his departure, but he held a poor hand. “I will see your cards.”
Devon also held only a high card, but his queen of diamonds beat Alastair’s jack of spades.
“Shall we up the ante to augment the excitement?” Devon asked, handing Alastair the deck. “Say, ten guineas?”
“As you wish.”
After placing their ante, Alastair shuffled and dealt the cards.
“I wish I had had more time with Miss Abbey. I wondered how she had spent the remainder of the evening at Château Follet?”
“She arrived at Château Follet in error. I kept watch over her till I could see her safely departed in the morning.”
“Then she did not have a chance to partake of the château’s offerings.”
“As I said, she came in error,” Alastair said without looking up from his cards, a pair of threes.
Devon placed ten guineas for his bet. “She seemed quite at ease with the activities of the château—and eager to participate.”
“Nevertheless, her time with Château Follet is done.”
“You are her guardian?”
“I am not—”
“Then how can you be certain?”
Alastair put in ten guineas. “I think your efforts would be better spent attending to other ladies.”
“Miss Abbey intrigues me.”
“She would not suit your preferences.”
“You presume to know me, my lord?”
There was a slight edge in his tone, but Alastair cared little if he should offend the man.
“I have heard of your preferences from my friend, the Baron Rockwell.”
Devon frowned at this. “I mean no disregard to your friend, but Rockwell makes a great many presumptions. He is not always right.”
“Do you deny you are partial to virgins?”
Devon put in twenty guineas before responding with lifted chin, “I do not. Virgins are delightful, and I consider it an honor to introduce them to the pleasures of the flesh. When you say that Miss Abbey would not suit me, do you mean to say that she is not a virgin?”
“I mean to say that you will stay away from Miss Abbey,” Alastair glowered.
“That has the ring of a threat, my lord.”
“Then consider it a threat.” Alastair folded his cards. “Our game is at an end, sir.”
Devon smirked as he displayed his cards, surprising Alastair. He held only an eight for a high card. “It would seem I am better at brag than I thought. I suppose I ought not be underestimated.”
He collected his winnings. “I would have provided Miss Abbey an unforgettable experience at Château Follet. It is unfortunate I had not the opportunity to do so. But...perhaps another time.”
“You will deem me more presumptuous than Rockwell, but I doubt you are up to the task of satisfying Miss Abbey’s expectations.” Alastair had the satisfaction of seeing Devon’s nostrils flare. “Take care you do not overestimate your appeal.”
“Your cousin found me appealing enough. Had you not intervened, she would have—”
Alastair had risen, prompting Devon to rise to his feet as well. The two men regarded each other tensely till Kittredge appeared, holding a decanter of wine. “Your pardon. I had not intended to take long...”
“Thank you for the play,” Devon said without taking his eyes off Alastair. “And the winnings.”
With a bow, the Viscount took his leave.
“What the bloody hell happened?” Kittredge asked Alastair when Devon had left. “You look ready to pummel the man.”
Alastair sat back down. “You took a damned long time looking for Thistlewood.”
“Found him in the cellar. He wanted my opinion on some Madeira. What the devil happened between you and this Viscount? Did he cheat at cards?”
“No, though I would not put it past him to do so,” Alastair answered as he watched Devon across the room.
Kittredge sat down and filled two glasses with wine. “Hm. Then I can’t imagine what he could have done to earn your ire. Did he criticize your family? No, that would not trouble you. Is he your competition for the Lady Sophia?”
Alastair turned to his friend.
“He is a handsome fellow, to be sure,” Kittredge continued, “but you outrank him, and that is no small matter for the daughter of a duke. The betting book at Brooks’s has you in the lead for the fair damsel’s hand, though there are just as many bets that you will not marry for at least another five years.”
Taking the glass of wine from Kittredge, Alastair drank it without tasting the port. Though he had paid more attention to the woman, Lady Sophia, than was his custom, his mind dwelt at present upon Millie. If Devon knew she was his cousin, he could easily discern that Miss Abbey was none other than Miss Abbott.
“Is that not a fine port?” Kittredge asked, refilling his own glass before it was even done. “I say we drink of it as much as we can and sleep well past the noon hour before we depart for the hunting grounds of Suffolk.”
“The grounds at Edenmoor are good for hunting this time of year,” Alastair thought aloud.
“Eh?”
“My aunt’s estate.”
“Not sure your aunt would be pleased to have my company, as she thinks I encourage your vices, but do as you please, Alastair. I will go wherever a good glass of wine can be had.”
Chapter 8
NOT HAVING SEEN KATHERINE since their trip to Bath, Mildred was overjoyed to see her ladyship. Katherine took her hand in her own and pressed it warmly in reception. Mildred could hardly wait to have a moment alone with the woman.
“You are a welcome sight to these old eyes,” Katherine said, taking Mildred’s arm in hers, as she led the Abbotts into her house.
“You may describe your eyes as old, but they are sharper than mine,” Mildred replied. She never regarded her ladyship as old, despite the appearance of grey in her hair and wrinkles at the corners of her eyes and mouth. Her ladyship was still possessed of impeccable posture and a stout carriage.
“I regret that it has been so long since last we had each other’s company, but Harriett required me.”
Harriett was Lady Katherine’s daughter by her first husband.
“I pray she is in better health?” Mildred asked.
They had a moment of partial solitude, for her father, still drowsy from his nap, walked at a slow pace behind them. Her mother would have been at their side but was busy marveling at her surroundings.
“Yes, but I forbid her to make the trip to Edenmoor till the babe is older.”
“You must be overjoyed to have another grandson.”
Katherine beamed. “He is quite the rumbustious little babe, as are all the d’Aubigne men.”
Mrs. Abbott came up to them. “What a fine entry you have, Lady Katherine! What brightness fills this space! And how nicely appointed all your furnishings and decor are. So light and uplifting to the mood!”
“I must credit Richard for that. My first husband was partial to dark hues, and as all our furniture was made of mahogany then, it all felt rather somber. I pray you will make yourselves comfortable here. You are first arrived and have the run of the place.”
“And whom else shall we be delighted to expect?”
“My son, Edward, his wife and sons will arrive today. My nieces, Louisa and Caroline, will come the day before Michaelmas and stay two days.”
“What? We shall have the pleasure of their company but two days? It is quite the distance to travel for such a short duration.”
“The distance is nothing for the young,” Mildred intervened, though her mother’s lack of grace had never seemed to bother Katherine. Mildred was secretly relieved that Louisa Wilmington and Caroline Brewster would not stay for the entire sennight. She had met the women sparingly, but neither could hide their disdain that Katherine had chosen a second husband so far beneath her station.
“And when does your nephew arrive?” Mrs. Abbott asked of Katherine.
Mildred stiffened.
“I do not expect him at all,” Katherine answered.
“Indeed? He will not spend Michaelmas with his family?”
“Alastair does as Alastair pleases.”
Still unsatisfied, Mrs. Abbott inquired, “I hope he is well?”
“I have no reason to believe otherwise. He did not elaborate in his letter to me.”
Mrs. Abbott raised her brows. “Oh?”
“Come, Mother, let us see to our chambers,” Mildred said.
As they proceeded through the house, Mrs. Abbott had the grandeur of the staircase, the warm and engaging tapestries in the hall, and the very fine paintings upon the walls to distract her. After leaving Mr. and Mrs. Abbott in their chambers, Katherine showed Mildred to her own room. With a window that overlooked the gardens and pastel silk upon the walls, the room was delightful to Mildred.
“I shall have tea ready within the hour,” Katherine said, “and hope that is enough time for you to change out of your traveling clothes.”
Mildred nodded. “I cannot thank you enough for your invitation to spend Michaelmas with your family. My mother was beyond thrilled, and I think her excitement overwhelms her...”
“Do not fret of that, my dear. While I understand why Richard was hesitant to have me consort with your family, I had told him it troubled me little. I may be a d’Aubigne, but you know that I am not a conventional sort of woman.”
The women shared a smile.
“I shall be forever grateful to have had your acquaintance, my lady,” Mildred said.
“I require none of your sentimentality, my girl, but I will find a moment for the two of us. I wish to hear how you have fared all this time.”
With the appearance of the dressing maid, Lady Katherine took her leave. As Mildred divested her coat, she recalled that the Marquess was not to spend Michaelmas at Edenmoor. She could not help but be a little disappointed, as their last exchange had been unsatisfactory. But she was also relieved that he was to be absent. Though she was determined to maintain their relationship as it had been prior to Château Follet, she knew she would be deceiving herself that it could be perfectly the same.
“ARE YOU DISAPPOINTED?” Lady Katherine asked.
Her ladyship and Mildred strolled the manor after tea. Mrs. Abbott, fatigued from the traveling, had retired to her chambers to rest. Mr. Abbott read the newspaper in the sunroom.
“Disappointed?” Mildred echoed.
“That he will not be here.”
“How could I be when I have your company?” Mildred cried.
Katherine smiled. “Nonetheless, you would rather he were joining us.”
Mildred shook her head. “For what purpose would I desire to see him? He refused my request to return my dowry to its initial amount, and it is too late now for him to change his mind.”
“There need not be a purpose. If you take pleasure in seeing him, that stands irrespective of anything else.”
Mildred studied her ladyship, wondering if the woman had attempted, as she had with the Château Follet, to put the two of them in each other’s way once more? But there could be no reason for a second meeting. Mildred would be forever grateful to Lady Katherine for her introduction to Château Follet, and grateful that she had set it up so that Alastair could be the one to fulfill her desired night of debauchery. Her ladyship knew that if she had revealed her plans to Mildred, Mildred would have balked at the notion of submitting herself to the Marquess.
“My vexation with him has not vanished,” Mildred said. “I have been besieged by all manner of unwanted suitors, and my present misery is all due to Alastair.”
“Is there none among them that you would consider for a husband?”
Mildred shuddered, but then she considered Mr. Winston. She wondered what sort of husband he might make.
“Ah, there is one,” her ladyship discerned. “Who is he?”
“His name is George Winston.”
“That name is vaguely familiar, but I do not think I have the pleasure of knowing this man.”
“I mention him only because he is more tolerable than the others. His manners are pleasing, and he is both intelligent and articulate.”
“That sounds quite promising. Do your parents approve of him?”
“He has a gentleman’s income, undoubtedly, but my mother believes there are better prospects to be had. But I am inspired by you, my lady, to place more weight upon the character of a spouse than his riches.”
“I did come under much criticism when I married Richard, but then, I had done my duty in my first marriage, and as my children were settled in their marriages, I had more freedom to follow my heart.”
Mildred looked out the window. How her life would differ if she had a similar liberty.
“I had thought I would sooner be a spinster than wed a man I did not love or desire,” she remarked. “But it is my duty, and I should be considered most ungrateful if I did not choose to marry. Many young women have not the privileges I now have.”
“Then be ungrateful. I should hate to see your spirit crushed by the weight of an unhappy marriage.”
“There is not a man who could accommodate me, and the fault is entirely my own. I fear I am too fastidious...and too wicked.”
“Do not give up hope, my dear. Come, let me show you something.”
Lady Katherine led her to the end of the corridor, produced a key, and unlocked a set of double doors. They entered a room of darkness, but her ladyship found the curtains covering the room’s lone window and drew them aside.
Mildred’s breath stalled as she gazed about the room, decorated with all manner of titillating art from marble nudes to paintings of men and women in congress. At the far end of the chamber, a sumptuous bed draped in brocatelle and clothed in silk beckoned. Mildred walked past a Grecian vase with man holding his impossibly large phallus. Beside it were various pottery with depictions of different positions of coitus. On the walls were replicas of Thomas Rowlandson. The women in his artwork often had their skirts throw up above their waists and their breasts bared.
“You have your own Château Follet,” Mildred noted with awe and even envy.
“Richard quite liked how Marguerite styled her ch�
�teau, but traveling to Château Follet is difficult in winter, and we often had not the patience to make the journey. We did our best to replicate Follet”
Mildred looked about the room once more. She would consider herself truly blessed if she should find a man as Lady Katherine had.
“The room gets dusty from want of use,” her ladyship said, “but I clean it from time to time, as the servants do not enter. I will not let it fall into disrepair, as it holds too many memories for me.”
“You have many fine rooms, my lady,” Mildred remarked, “but this one is my favorite.”
Chapter 9
“AND HOW LONG DO YOU intend we stay at Edenmoor?” Kittredge asked as he and Alastair rode on horseback toward Katherine’s estate.
“Not more than two days and a night, I think,” replied Alastair, who preferred riding over the bumping and jarring of a carriage. The confinement did not suit his temperament, and the autumn air pacified the agitation that had come upon him ever since his encounter with Devon.
“What? All this way for but two days?”
Alastair thought of his sisters and shuddered inside. Katherine’s son would be there as well with his family. He did not mind Edward as much but still he had no desire to make conversation with him or his wife, Anne. Their young sons, aged six to twelve, could be quarrelsome with each other and far too boisterous for his taste. He did not think his cousin Harriett and her family would be present, and Mr. and Mrs. Abbott were too intimidated by him to require much of his attention. Nonetheless, he wondered that he could tolerate even two days in such company.
“Is the hunting that superb?” Kittredge inquired.
“It is more than adequate.”
“Then say again why we are headed there?”
“I did not say before, but you may content yourself that my aunt keeps a decent cellar.”
“Will your niece, Emily, be there? She had her come out last year, did she not? She is quite the tempting armful.”
Alastair returned a stern gaze.
“Worry not,” Kittredge laughed. “I have no designs upon your family. I prefer you as friend and not kin. Good God, I should hate to have you for a brother-in-law. Will your uncle be there?”
Tempting A Marquess for Christmas: A Steamy Regency Romance Book 5 Page 5