“Thank you for calling, My Lord!”
“I must be off, but I look forward to seeing you next week when you come riding.”
“Thank you, I look forward to it as well, My Lord,” Lady Paulina sounded pleasant enough, though not particularly enthusiastic.
Chapter 2
Michael waited for his carriage at the front of the house, and entered it, feeling relieved. The meeting had not been a rousing success, but nor had it been a terrible failure. Lady Paulina was beautiful and well-mannered, just as he had been told. She seemed quite nice, and they shared an interest in riding.
Still, as the carriage rolled along, and he looked out of his window, he could not help but think that life with Lady Paulina would be exceptionally dull. In truth, her maid had seemed more interesting, though he had not spoken to her directly. And I could have sworn that she was looking at me more than was strictly necessary.
In any event, he knew that he could not put off marriage much longer without causing his mother more distress. And he could not marry a lady’s maid without causing a great scandal. Besides, he had never even spoken to the lady’s maid in question. It would be foolish in the extreme to risk a scandal because of a twinkle in one maid’s eye.
When he finally arrived at home, Michael found his mother waiting for him in the entrance hall.
“Hello, Michael. Come into the drawing room, and tell me about your meeting with Lady Paulina.”
Michael followed his mother across the hall and into the drawing room, where he sat down in his favorite leather armchair.
“Well?” His mother asked, “How was it?”
“It was fine, Mother.”
“Fine?” she sounded incredulous.
“Fine,” Michael repeated himself. “Lady Paulina is very nice.”
“Well, I am glad to hear that she is very nice,” the Countess said, sounding somewhat encouraged. “What did you speak about?”
“Nothing especially fascinating.”
The Countess raised an eyebrow at her son, disapprovingly. She had often criticized him for being too cynical for his own good, and he suspected that she was about to remind him of this flaw once again.
“My apologies, Mother. I did not mean to suggest that the meeting was not a success.”
“Well, I am certainly glad to hear it. Now, tell me what you discussed with Lady Paulina.”
Michael smiled ruefully. He would not be able to put his mother off, so he might as well tell her what she wanted to know now, and prevent her asking him again and again.
“We discussed the weather, and the beauty of the grounds at Cublertone—the usual things that people discuss.”
“Is that all that you discussed?” The Countess asked, sounding hopeful.
“Well,” Michael said, hesitantly, “We also discussed riding. It seems that Lady Paulina has heard of our stables, and I invited her to come riding with me next week.”
“I see. Well, that is wonderful news. It seems that you and Lady Paulina have a shared interest, which is more than can be said for many aristocratic marriages.”
“Hmm…” Michael sighed. “Well, I suppose that is true.”
“It certainly is more than can be said for your father and I, and look how well our marriage has turned out.”
Michael merely nodded at this. He supposed his parents’ marriage had been happy enough, as aristocratic marriages went, but Michael was not eager to repeat it for himself. The best that could be said for his parents’ marriage was that they did not seem to dislike each other, and both seemed satisfied with their lives outside of their relationship to one another.
Michael hoped for more from his own future marriage. Most of his friends from school had married for political or financial convenience, but one, now the Earl of Wessex, had married for love. His bride was the daughter of a wool merchant—a wealthy man, but a common one. It had caused a bit of a stir at the gentlemen’s club, but no one could deny that Wessex was happier in his marriage than any of the rest of them.
Michael considered whether he might find the same type of happiness with Lady Paulina. He doubted that he could, but nor could he find a reason to object to the match. And, clearly, Wessex’s marriage was the exception, not the rule.
“Michael?” The Countess said, her voice raised slightly.
“Sorry?” He had been lost in his own thoughts about marriage, and had not heard anything his mother had said.
“I asked if you were planning to go hunting with your father tomorrow.”
“Oh,” Michael replied, unsure of what to say. He had little interest in hunting, and less interest in spending more time with his father than was strictly necessary.
“Your father really would like for you to come,” the Countess said. It seemed almost as though she could sense his hesitation. “Do you have other plans?”
Michael did not have any other plans, and he could think of no reasonable excuse to avoid the hunt. He knew that it would do no good to tell his mother that he had no interest in spending the day with his father.
“No, Mother,” he said, feeling resigned. “I have no other plans.”
“Then the matter is settled,” the Countess replied, in a matter-of-fact tone of voice, “Your father will be pleased to hear it.”
That same evening, Betsey helped Lady Paulina to undress and change into her night clothes. She noticed that her mistress was less talkative than usual.
“Is everything all right, My Lady?” Betsey asked, concerned.
“Yes, Betsey,” Lady Paulina said, her voice sounding sweet. “I am quite all right. It is kind of you to ask.”
The silence stretched between them, as Betsey brushed Lady Paulina’s hair. After a few moments, Lady Paulina spoke.
“My father was pleased to hear that my visit with the Viscount went well today.”
“Oh?” Betsey said, confused. The meeting with the Viscount had not gone badly, but she would not have described it as going well, if the goal was marriage.
“Perhaps I allowed him to believe that I was a bit more…enthusiastic …about the Viscount than is entirely the case.”
“I see.”
“He would be so pleased if I should marry the Viscount, and he would never allow me to follow my heart in the matter of my marriage, so I saw no reason to disappoint him,” Lady Paulina said, sounding resigned to her fate.
“So, you will agree to marry the Viscount if he proposes?” Betsey asked, bemused.
“Well, he has not asked yet, but if he does, I don’t suppose I shall have much of a choice.”
“Do you think that your father would force you to marry the Viscount, My Lady?” Betsey was not fond of the Earl, and she knew him to be ambitious. He would encourage his daughter to make an advantageous marriage, but she found it hard to believe that even he would actually force his daughter to marry someone if she did not want to.
“Well,” Lady Paulina said. “No, I don’t suppose that he would force me into the marriage. But, I must take a husband eventually, and if I cannot marry the one I love, the Viscount will make a better husband than many other noble gentlemen.”
“What do you mean, My Lady?” Betsey knew perfectly well what her mistress meant, but she was eager to keep the conversation going. Being silent was an important skill in her position as lady’s maid, but Betsey did not enjoy it.
“Not all gentlemen are as honorable as my father,” Lady Paulina said wistfully.
Betsey pursed her lips, but said nothing to contradict this. Lady Paulina believed that her father was devoted to his late wife. Betsey had come to Cublertone Manor after the Countess had died, but she understood from the rest of the servants that the Earl had been groping the maids since long before his wife died. Still, she had no intention of tarnishing Lady Paulina’s idea of her father.
“I could end up married to someone old, or ugly, someone with bad breath, or warts.” Lady Paulina gave an exaggerated shudder at the thought. Then she began to giggle, and Betsey could not
help but join in. The thought of her young, beautiful, lively mistress married to a tired old gentleman was truly comical.
When they had both calmed down and caught their breath, Lady Paulina continued, in a more serious tone.
“Of course, even if my husband is young and handsome, he could be cruel, or stupid. He could leave me at home alone while he spends all of his time at the club, gambling.”
Betsey nodded solemnly at this. She knew that many gentlemen treated their wives in exactly this way.
“Or he could keep a mistress, or fondle the chamber maids when he thinks I am not paying attention. It happens more often than you might think, you know.”
Betsey nodded at this, but said nothing. She certainly knew that this sort of thing happened quite often, but she had no idea how Lady Paulina would know such a thing.
“The Viscount of Somerwich is young and handsome, and he seems a kind gentleman,” Lady Paulina continued. “I cannot imagine he would ever mistreat his wife, can you, Betsey?”
“No, My Lady. I suppose not.”
“And perhaps, in time, we might grow quite fond of one another. Perhaps that is better than a passionate romance.”
Betsey considered this. She had never had a passionate romance herself, but as a young girl she had imagined being swept off her feet by a handsome man. She supposed most young girls had similar fantasies, but she knew that those rarely came true.
Her own experiences with men had been limited to the Earl’s attempts to grope her, and a fumbled kiss in the pantry with a visiting valet who had refused to look at her the next day, and left without saying goodbye. Perhaps Lady Paulina is right—perhaps it is best to marry someone kind and grow fond of him over time.
Betsey thought about the relative merits of passionate love and steady fondness throughout the day. At times she agreed with her original thought, that marrying someone kind and growing fond of him over time would lead to happiness. More often, though, she was overtaken by thoughts of the Viscount.
Betsey knew that she ought to ignore these thoughts, but she found that she could not control them. When she sat by the fire, mending Lady Paulina’s shift, she imagined herself standing before the Viscount in nothing but her own shift. When she brushed Lady Paulina’s hair before bed, she imagined the Viscount running his fingers through her own hair, as he pulled her in close to kiss her.
Each time she was visited by these thoughts, Betsey felt certain that passion was more important than kindness. Her skin felt alive with electricity at the mere idea of the Viscount’s touch, and she knew that the reality would be even more exciting. She could not imagine forgoing such a feeling in favor of political or financial gain.
Chapter 3
Michael woke early the next morning, and attempted to prepare himself, mentally, for the day’s hunt. His father had invited some of his colleagues in Parliament to join them for the day. Michael had been surprised to learn that Luke Manning, the Earl of Cublertone—Lady Paulina’s father—was to be among the guests.
Upon reflection, he supposed that it made sense to invite Lord Cublertone, if they were hoping to form a political alliance via the marriage of their children. However, Michael knew that his father and Lord Cublertone had clashed in Parliament last year over something to do with the regulation of tobacco. He did not know the details, but he did know that his father had been intensely angry with Lord Cublertone.
In truth, he was not as interested in politics as his father would have liked, and Michael paid little attention when his father spoke about legislation. He understood that it was important, and that when he came into his peerage, he would need to know about these things, but for the most part he found them terribly dull. Most had no bearing on people’s real lives, in any case.
Perhaps when he joined the House of Lords he would be able to effect some real change. Until then, he preferred to hunt only when he could not avoid it, ride when the weather was fine, and study philosophy by the fire in the library when being out of doors became unpleasant.
Perhaps he had been reading too much Plato, and that was why he hesitated at the thought of marrying Lady Paulina. To be sure, she was beautiful, but she did not inspire him to contemplate the spiritual world, as Plato suggested pure love should. Of course, Plato did not require a political advantage in a wife—perhaps Platonic ideals are too much for an aristocrat to aspire to.
Michael decided that when he next visited the library, he would review what Aristotle had to say on the subject of marriage. As he recalled, this was a much more practical view than Plato’s, but he could not remember the exact position just now. For the time being, he rolled over in his bed and attempted to go back to sleep. He would need his rest if he was going to spend the day with his father and Lord Cublertone.
Several hours later, the hunting party set out into the grounds of Hillfield Estate. Michael and his father were joined by the Earl of Cublertone, as well as William Everly, the Marquess of Portam, and Edward Hastings, the Duke of Litchfield.
Michael soon deduced that Lord Portam and Lord Cublertone were friends, and presumably political allies. He knew that the Duke of Litchfield was his father’s close friend and always sided with him in Parliament. The group consisted of two political factions, with Michael between them.
He could see now that he was meant to create a bridge between them, but he felt more like a toy soldier pulled in different directions by fighting children. Michael resolved to speak little, and focus only on the hunt as the day went on. His father would be frustrated, but not as angry as he would be if Michael said something to derail his plans.
Still, he must at least greet his father’s guests, and he could hardly ignore the fact that he had spent yesterday with Lord Cublertone’s daughter.
“Welcome, Your Grace, My Lords,” Michael’s father said. “Thank you for joining us on the hunt today!”
This was met with a chorus of, “My pleasure!” and “Thank you!” and “Looking forward to it!”
“Lord Cublertone,” Michael said. “Thank you again for your hospitality yesterday.”
“You are quite welcome,” the Earl replied. “I trust that you enjoyed your visit with my Paulina?”
“Yes, My Lord.”
His father cleared his throat loudly at this, and announced, “My son is not the most expressive of gentlemen. He found Lady Paulina to be very charming, and very beautiful, I am sure. In fact, he has invited her to come here and join him for a ride next week, as she expressed some interest in our stables. Isn’t that right, my boy?”
“Yes, Father,” Michael said, taking a deep breath to steady his nerves. “I look forward to her visit. With your permission, of course, My Lord.”
“Of course, of course!” Lord Cublertone replied, looking very pleased with the idea.
“Excellent,” Michael’s father said, all of his former anger at Cublertone seemingly forgotten. “And perhaps we shall see more of Lady Paulina after that. Of course, you are always welcome here at Hillfield as well, Cublertone.”
“Thank you, Hillfield, that is most kind of you,” the Earl of Cublertone said, rather formally. A look passed between Lord Cublertone and the Marquess of Portam, which Michael could not quite interpret.
The hunt was a success, with each member of the party bringing down several grouse. The Marquess of Portam seemed particularly keen to outshoot the rest of the party. He and Michael jockeyed for first position throughout the day, and Lord Portam joked good-naturedly every time he took the lead.
Michael was pleased to find that the outing was pleasant, as well as successful. His father was on his best behavior in front of his guests, and hardly criticized his son at all. In fact, he made only one comment about Michael’s lack of interest in politics. When the rest of the party laughed at this, the Earl joined them, pretending it had been a joke rather than a real criticism.
That evening at dinner, Michael’s father and the Earl of Cublertone spoke to each other politely, though rather formally. Michael’s
mother acted as a perfect hostess, keeping the conversation flowing, and steering it away from anything controversial. The Duchess of Litchfield had also joined them for dinner, and assisted her hostess in this goal.
“I understand that your daughter is an accomplished rider, My Lord,” she said over dessert.
“Yes, Madam, she is a kind and gentle young lady. The horses respond well to her when they are too spooked to be ridden by anyone else.”
“When I was sixteen, my father and I visited Cublertone,” the Marquess of Portam said. “Lady Paulina was just a small child, perhaps eight years old?”
“I believe she was nine at the time,” Lord Cublertone corrected the Marquess.
“Nine. Yes, of course. In any event, she saw me going out to ride one morning, and escaped from her governess to join me.”
Michael looked at the Marquess eagerly. He was interested to hear more of this story—perhaps Lady Paulina was more intriguing than he had first imagined.
“She challenged me to a race through the grounds, and accused me of cowardice when I initially declined. After a few minutes, I knew that arguing with her further would be a fool’s errand, so I agreed to the race, thinking that I would need to slow my pace in order to avoid embarrassing her.”
“That was kind of you, My Lord,” Michael replied. “Please, tell us, did you let her win the race?”
The Marquess chuckled at this. “Well, as I said, I did not wish to embarrass her. Her father was our gracious host, and a good friend to my family. I had been warned by my own father that it would not do to upset the young Lady of the house. But in truth, I need not have worried.”
“And why is that?” Michael asked, more and more intrigued as the story continued.
“She beat me in the race, easily, and without any help from me! I would say that I was embarrassed to be beaten by a nine-year-old Lady, but in truth, she rode so well that I could only be pleased to have kept up with her for a few moments.”
Addicted to a Rascal Duke: A Steamy Historical Regency Romance Novel Page 29