Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel

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Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel Page 22

by Samantha Grace

His mother startled. “Andrew, what has gotten into you? You are bellowing like your father.”

  “Miss Hillary—Lana—is marrying me.”

  “You?”

  “Yes, me. Mother, what have you done?” There was no official agreement between them to marry. What if Lana changed her mind? She had shown a preference for the dolt before Drew laid claim to her, and even though he was somewhat confident in her feelings for him, he didn’t need any competition for her hand.

  “Darling, how was I to know? I thought I was assisting a friend. And you have always maintained the position you would never marry.” A happy glow lit her face and she clapped her hands. “My youngest son is getting married? We’ll have the grandest wedding celebration.”

  “Mother, could we please keep everything quiet for now?”

  “I suppose we must make it through tonight’s dinner first.” She bit her lip. “I must rearrange the seating. I couldn’t possibly expect Miss Hillary to sit beside Lord Bollrud given the circumstances.”

  “Lana goes by me tonight,” he demanded, “and every dinner until the end of time.”

  His mother scoffed. “And to think you used to be my most pleasant child.”

  ***

  Lana alighted from the carriage first when they reached Talliah House and wrapped her pelisse closer to deflect the chill from the wind.

  Inside the Foxhaven town house, the butler led them to an exquisite plum drawing room draped with intricate tapestries. Lana adored the duchess’s excellent taste in furnishings. She perched on the edge of a plush chair that provided a view of the doorway. Drew treaded heavily into the room with the oddest expression. She might describe him as dour, which contradicted his nature.

  Lana stood as the duke and duchess entered.

  “Splendid of you to come, my dear friends,” Her Grace gushed. She glided to Lana’s mother, lightly pecking each cheek before moving in front of Lana and gathering her in an exuberant embrace. “Miss Hillary, what a pleasure to see you again, my dear.”

  The woman’s enthusiastic welcome made her giggle. An observer might think them the best of friends separated for years. Speaking of friends, Lana noted Phoebe’s absence.

  “Do you have word of Lady Phoebe?” she asked.

  The duchess spoke in low tones. “The baby may be on its way. Phoebe suffers pains on and off.”

  “Oh, dear. It is early still.”

  Drew’s mother patted her hand. “I believe they miscalculated. Phoebe appears to have swallowed a small pig, not that my grandchild will be anything less than perfect.”

  Lana giggled again as she sought out Drew. The Forests produced gorgeous children, and with Phoebe’s added beauty, the baby would be the most perfect in all of England.

  Her Grace squeezed Lana’s hand. “I await many more grandchildren, my dear.”

  Drew’s mother knew of their association? Lana nervously licked her lips. Was she also aware Lana could be with child?

  A prickle at the back of her neck alerted her to the presence of another person. Turning toward the doorway, she suppressed a gasp.

  “Please forgive my late arrival.” Lord Bollrud stood in the threshold, one corner of his mouth slanting upward and a gleam in his eyes.

  “Oh, dear,” she murmured.

  ***

  Drew’s hand brushed discreetly over Lana’s knee under the table. Happiness shone in the green depths of her eyes, mirroring his sentiment.

  “Miss Hillary, what entertainments would you recommend for a gent new to Town?” Bollrud asked.

  Lana tensed beneath Drew’s fingertips. “I suppose that would depend on your interests, sir.” She sampled her soup and offered nothing further.

  A flicker of irritation crossed Bollrud’s features. “And what interests you, Miss Hillary? We must share similar likes.”

  “Do you enjoy needlework, my lord?”

  The man’s mouth formed a thin line, but he persisted despite Lana’s discouragement. “What about carriage rides? I haven’t visited Hyde Park since I was a child.”

  “It’s rather cool this time of year, but a slight chill shouldn’t deter you. Solitary reflection on childhood memories can be an enlightening experience.”

  Drew hid his smile in his glass of burgundy. Bollrud was no match for his peach.

  “There’s not much activity off season,” Jake said. “I fear you arrived in London too late.”

  Drew appreciated the emphasis on the words too late. Perhaps Jake was coming to accept him after all.

  Bollrud threw a disgusted look at Jake before refocusing on Lana. “I am to understand theatre productions continue. Do you enjoy the theatre, Miss Hillary?”

  “I prefer the companionship of a good book.” Her innocent smile was most convincing. “Do you enjoy reading, sir? Perhaps the circulating libraries interest you.”

  He flicked his hand. “I care nothing for books.”

  Lana shrugged one delicate shoulder. “My apologies, but not being a gentleman, I fear my recommendations fall short. Perhaps Jake would be so kind as to offer his suggestions.”

  Bollrud’s glower could fell a man.

  Mrs. Hillary cleared her throat. “Do not be discouraged, my lord. My daughter receives many invitations. Perhaps she will allow you to escort her on occasion.”

  “I would be honored.” Bollrud smirked.

  Drew’s jaw hardened. It would be a cold day in Hades before the blackguard accompanied Lana any place.

  Mr. Hillary changed the subject, albeit to one that only interested Drew’s father. “How was hunting this season?”

  For the remainder of dinner, the duke inundated them with tales of foxes and hounds. The only thing more tedious than hearing hunting stories was hunting itself. Drew suppressed a sigh when the women adjourned to the drawing room. He would much rather join the ladies than endure more of this insipid conversation.

  He removed himself to a corner and observed Bollrud. His awkward manner suggested he didn’t attend many dinner parties. When it was time to rejoin the ladies, Drew trailed at a distance, adopting Jake’s slower pace.

  “Who is that pompous prick?” Lana’s brother mumbled.

  “Philip Bollrud is Lady Dohve’s nephew.”

  “Why don’t I know him?” Jake frowned as if Drew held some responsibility for his lack of familiarity.

  “His parents moved to Bavaria when he was a child. Bollrud only returned to England recently.”

  “Why doesn’t he have an accent?”

  Drew shrugged. “He is English and born to an English mother.”

  “I like him even less than I like you.”

  “Finally, we have discovered common ground.”

  Jake frowned. “At least Lana appears happy when she’s in your presence.” His admission seemed grudgingly given. “This Bollrud gent makes her nervous. I don’t care for him at all.”

  He suspected Lana’s brother would disapprove of anyone courting her, but he agreed with Jake’s assessment of Bollrud. “Shall we put our differences aside long enough to oust the gentleman?” Drew asked.

  “I believe an alliance is prudent in this instance. Do not think, however, my opinion of you will alter.”

  “Of course not. Please, feel free to continue your blatant animosity as soon as we dispose of Bollrud.”

  Jake almost grinned. “Agreed.”

  Thirty-three

  “How kind of you to extend an invitation to us this evening, Mrs. Murphy,” Lana’s mother greeted their hostess.

  Mrs. Murphy returned her mother’s false smile. “It is always a pleasure, Mrs. Hillary. Did you bring that charming young man you spoke of earlier?”

  Lana did her best to hide her irritation as she waited on Jake’s arm.

  “She is referring to me, correct?” Jake whispered.

  Lana appreciated his attempt at levity, but humor couldn’t soothe her frayed nerves. Thanks to her mother, she would spend the evening attempting to avoid Lord Bollrud while Mama orchestrated enforced encounter
s. How she had finagled a last-minute invitation for the man stumped Lana.

  “We should be so fortunate,” her mother answered, “but Lord Bollrud will arrive with Her Grace.”

  Clearly, her mother had relied on the Duchess of Foxhaven’s popularity and influence to encourage their hostess to invite Lord Bollrud.

  Mama moved past their hostess to mingle with the other guests.

  Mrs. Murphy clasped her hands together. “Miss Hillary, I hear there are exciting things happening in your life.”

  Lana could only imagine what her mother had told her. “I’m afraid nothing out of the ordinary. Although I must say, I find charades an exciting prospect. Thank you for the kind invitation.”

  Their hostess beamed. “It is our pleasure, my dear. So nice to see you up and about, Mr. Hillary.”

  Jake exchanged pleasantries before they joined the other guests. Lana scanned the faces for Drew but didn’t see him. Fortunately, Lord Bollrud remained absent too. Was it evil to wish a mild stomach ailment might keep Bollrud away? Lana sighed. What a horrible thought. She should be ashamed of wishing an ailment upon the gentleman.

  Soon the duchess’s effervescent chatter carried on the air. Butterflies flittered about inside her. Drew had arrived. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse. The duchess swept into the parlor followed by Lord Bollrud, but Drew never trailed in behind his mother.

  The duchess strode to Lana and gathered her in a bone-crushing hug. For such a small woman, she had the strength of Hercules. “Miss Hillary, you look lovely, dear,” she murmured in Lana’s ear. “Drew is running behind schedule but asked me to extend his love.”

  Lana sucked in a full breath to inflate her lungs when the duchess released her. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

  A small frown formed on her face. “We will need to address this ‘Your Grace’ nonsense at another time.”

  Lord Bollrud stepped forward to capture Lana’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Miss Hillary, what a pleasure.”

  She tugged her hand from his grip. “Thank you, Lord Bollrud.”

  Jake loomed beside her, and a spark of satisfaction warmed her belly when Bollrud backed away. Her brother could be intimidating, even with a bum leg.

  “Bollrud.” Jake’s rumbling voice was laced with unmistakable warning. She adored her brother at this moment.

  Mrs. Murphy floated around the room arranging dining partners for the promenade. Lana breathed a grateful sigh when their hostess paired her with Jake. Unfortunately, Lord Bollrud would take position on her right. As Lord Bollrud hadn’t offered for her, she didn’t feel comfortable broaching the topic with him. She would like to avoid wounding his pride, so she must be studious in her attempts to discourage his courtship.

  Drew sauntered into the parlor and approached their hostess with a charming smile and an apology for being late. Lana’s thoughts of Bollrud evaporated.

  Her gaze often strayed to Drew during the dinner. He seemed mesmerized by whatever Lady Chickering told him. In fact, she wondered if the countess had hypnotized him with the way his eyes had acquired a glassed-over look.

  “This soup is superb,” Lord Bollrud announced beside her.

  She did her best to ignore his deplorable manners, but his slurping drew more than a few horrified glances.

  “What is this delicious concoction?” he asked.

  Lana’s stomach turned as broth dribbled down his chin. “Mulligatawny. It is an East Indian recipe.” She set down her spoon, her appetite lost.

  Her mother stared in dismay. Laughter bubbled inside of Lana, but she pushed it down. It would serve her mother right if Lana pretended interest in the boorish man.

  The gentleman insisted on conversing with a full mouth of food throughout the meal. She provided head nods and verbal acknowledgements when he spoke but couldn’t stomach looking at him. In fact, she tried blocking the entire experience.

  “Splendid. I shall call tomorrow.”

  Lana snapped from her daze. “Tomorrow?”

  “Yes, for our stroll through the park.”

  Blast! Had she given her consent without realizing? “Oh, tomorrow…” She pretended to contemplate her schedule. “I am afraid tomorrow is no good.”

  “Very well. The day after then.”

  “Hmm…” She could feign illness the day after, although conjuring thoughts of his eating habits might bring on an actual stomach ailment. Lana released a resigned sigh. “Very well, sir. Come by the day after tomorrow.”

  Better to be direct with Lord Bollrud and encourage him to seek out another. Perhaps she could suggest a nice young lady and assist with his efforts.

  The guests moved to an adjoining room after dinner. A moment later, a footman approached Drew’s mother, passing her a folded piece of foolscap. She perused the note then waved for Drew. A wide grin indicated she had received good tidings. Drew’s dimpled smile followed his reading of the note. His head snapped up to search out Lana.

  “Pheebs has given birth,” he said in a low voice as he reached the spot where she and Jake stood.

  Lana issued a tiny squeal. “How wonderful. The baby is all right? How is Phoebe?”

  “Both are well. Mother and I must excuse ourselves from charades, I’m afraid.” Drew hesitated a moment. “Would you like to accompany us?”

  “Oh, do you feel that would be proper? I’m not family.”

  Jake nudged her. “You should go, Lana.”

  “But what about you? I dragged you here when you hate charades. I cannot abandon you.”

  “I’ll manage,” he said. “Go before Mother harangues you into spending more time with that dullard Bollrud.”

  No further prompting was required.

  In the landau, the duchess prattled about the baby. “I cannot believe Richard sent no word when Phoebe began labor.”

  As soon as they rolled to a stop in front of the Forests’ town house, Her Grace darted through the carriage door.

  Drew offered a lopsided grin and closed the door against the cooler evening air. “I promise to follow Rich’s example and keep Mother far away during the birthing of our babe.”

  Lana’s heart overflowed. Good heavens. How she longed to bear Drew’s children. Struggling to push aside her earlier misgivings, she exhaled. “I’m ready, Drew.”

  He started. “Of course, shall we go inside? Phoebe will be pleased you came.”

  “You misunderstand me. Do you—” She took a deep breath. “Would you still like to wed me?”

  Drew jerked the curtains closed, blocking out the night, and moved to sit beside her. The dim glow of the carriage lights created a cozy sanctuary.

  “Are you accepting my proposal a second time?”

  She licked her lips then nodded.

  “And you will not change your mind in the morning?” His teasing tone relieved her anxiety.

  “That depends on how well you convince me I have made the correct decision.”

  “I see.” Cradling her face, he met her lips. His heated fingers warmed the sensitive skin of her jaw line as his smooth lips pecked at hers. Lana dissolved against him, never wanting the kiss to end and whimpering when he stopped it.

  He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed, a hint of mint jelly on his breath. “I wish I could make love to you. But I suppose we best go inside before someone searches for us.”

  She groaned. “When did you become so proper?”

  “Since I promised your father I would be a proper husband.” Drew gathered her against him. The contoured muscles of his chest twitched against her palm, heating her blood.

  “A proper husband knows when to bed his wife.”

  Drew’s heart beat heavily under her hand. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it, peach?”

  Lana didn’t trust herself to speak. Eleven days, twelve hours, forty-two minutes, and thirty seconds.

  With her sight adjusted to the dim light, she caught the naughty sparkle in his eyes before he hauled her on his lap.

  “Drew.” S
he giggled as he showered her neck and shoulders with playful kisses.

  “Yes, my sweet?”

  “What are you doing?”

  Cupping her breast, he gently rolled her nipple between his fingers and nuzzled her neck. “Practicing being a proper husband.”

  “What if… we…?” She lost the thought on a sigh. Goodness, Drew knew how to rattle her mind.

  “What if we are found?” he completed her thought.

  “Indeed.” Lana closed her eyes and leaned her head back, breathing in deeply as he nibbled her earlobe and slid his fingers into her hair.

  “Do you think we should stop?”

  “Probably,” she murmured. “But don’t you dare.”

  Chuckling, he tugged the bodice of her gown low and captured her nipple with his lips, wetting her chemise. The unique sensation thrilled her. Drew was unpredictable and exciting. “Lift up, peach.”

  Lana stood, slightly bent over to keep from hitting her head on the rooftop of the carriage, eager to engage in whatever improper behavior he had in mind. Gathering her skirts around her waist, Drew untied her drawers and smoothed his hands over her bottom as her undergarment slithered to the floor. He freed himself before seating her on his lap again, this time facing away.

  “Wh-what are you doing?”

  “So very inquisitive tonight, my dear.” Her skirts slowly slid up her thighs as Drew bunched her silk gown in his fists. “Allow me to satisfy your curiosity.”

  Pushing with his knees, he spread her legs, delving his fingers into her curls. His free hand found her breast while his fingers stole inside her before swiping across that special spot that gave her pleasure.

  Lana gave a throaty moan and soon rocked her hips to match his tempo, losing herself in the ecstasy of his touch. His hardened length pressed against her bottom, sending her heart into an erratic rhythm.

  Drew’s lips brushed the rim of her ear. “Take me inside of you, Lana.”

  Her eyes popped open. “How?”

  Grasping her waist, he urged her to rise before pulling her down. A shuddering sigh shook her as Drew entered her. She had no idea they could make love in such a way.

  He didn’t move immediately, taking a moment to nuzzle her neck, creating delicious shivers along her skin. “I’ve missed you, Lana.”

 

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