She grinned up at him. “For the moment, you scamp. Be gone with you. You and your business.”
Chapter 5
Laurel hummed under her breath and would have burst into song if Ingrid’s younger children along with Jamie hadn’t been down for a nap. She delighted in teaching along with encouraging each child, especially since Adron was away and couldn’t plague her. His presence drove her daft, always watching, judging, ever hoping for a mistake. Now joy bubbled inside her as she worked in the nursery, teaching the older daughter, Laine to help with the lightest of chores.
Laurel instructed while Laine sat on the floor sorting and straightening books. The door swung open and Lord Gladrey entered. Laurel swallowed a sigh. His abrupt arrival had erased her sense of accomplishment.
“What is the meaning of this display?” he demanded, astonishment marring his features.
“And a very good afternoon to you, Milord,” Laurel murmured with an edge to her voice.
He returned her greeting with a nod of acknowledgement and a sharp look. “Milady.”
Laine jumped to her feet and hurried over. “Uncle Adron, I’m so happy you’re back.” His niece caught his hand. “Nanny is teaching me how to manage a household. She says a lady must know everything that’s required before she can instruct the servants.” Laine grinned up at him. “She’s so clever.”
He gazed at Laurel again and with a grim smile, he agreed. “Very clever indeed.”
Heat rose in Laurel’s cheeks and her fingers trembled as she leaned against the cabinet with one arm. Naturally, she would appear at her worst with her hair under a dust cap and enveloped in a huge soiled apron. If she had any sense she wouldn’t care about her appearance or what he thought of her. She did care and she caught her bottom lip between her teeth.
“You mustn’t do her chores for her you know,” he instructed.
“Nanny won’t allow me to do a single thing,” Laine pouted. “She says a lady must know what to do, not do everything. She is a lady so why does she do everything?”
“True,” he agreed. “But she is also a mother. More is required from a mother.”
“My mum doesn’t do anything ‘cept kiss us,” Laine reasoned. “Our nanny always did everything for us at home too.”
He smiled down at her. “Exactly! Laurel is acting as nanny for the time being.”
“Oh. Is acting different from being real?”
“Somewhat,” he admitted seemingly at a loss to further explain his objections to his niece. He patted her hand and turned to Laurel. “Actually, I’ve come to remind you that you’re required to attend the ball tonight. Don’t be late.”
“Certainly.” Inwardly she flinched. Laurel expected him to arrive in time for his grandmother’s ball, but time had slipped away from her. She’d hoped upon his return, she’d be able to look at him with indifference but that wasn’t the case. Every nerve in her body seemed to tingle with awareness.
“I’ll allow you to complete your work then.” Without a backward glance, he strolled out the door.
Heaving a sigh, she scooped up a dust cloth and allowed memories of their last encounter to whirl in her head. He’d held her almost nude form in his arms and even now her body tingled with remembered awareness. She swallowed hard. Simply because he’d issued another invitation to share his bed was no reason to think more than a quick tumble had been offered. Such fantasies could bring her to ruin and place Jamie at risk. Pushing aside such foolish imaginings, she sorted through another stack of books with renewed vigor.
A short while later, the upstairs maid poked her head around the door. “Her ladyship wants you in the parlor. I’m to mind the children for a few minutes.”
Exasperated and a little apprehensive, Laurel stripped off her apron, tidied her hair and headed down the stairs. “Now what?”
“Well come in, gel,” Heloise invited. “I have something to show you.”
Laurel advanced and peered at the wooden box in Heloise’s lap. With tears in her eyes, Heloise lifted the lid to display a beautiful necklace and earring set of sapphires linked with diamonds. The stones glittered against a velvet lining. She stroked the necklace before taking the jewelry from the box and gazed at Laurel.
“These belonged to my sister, Robert’s grandmother. Before Robert died, he wrote and asked me to give them to you. But with one thing and another, I forgot. Forgive me.” She placed the items back into the velvet nest and handed the case to Laurel.
Fascinated, Laurel examined the jewelry. “How lovely. Thank you.”
Not expecting a personal gift from her husband, her eyes stung. In his wounded state, Robert had turned to his sister instead of her and she acknowledged his callous treatment had hurt her deeply. In some small measure Robert’s last gift to her softened her resentment toward him.
“I would truly love to see my sister’s necklace grace so charming a neck. Tonight will be the perfect opportunity.”
“You think I should wear the jewelry to the ball?”
“Naturally.”
Rhonda gasped and rushed into the room. “What are you about, Aunt Heloise?”
Heloise sighed. “Only doing what I should have done long ago. Correcting an unintentional slight and handing over Leona’s sapphires.”
“That set belonged to my grandmother,” Rhonda screeched. Heloise frowned at Rhonda and her voice took on an ominous ring. “The bulk of your grandmother’s estate went to you. Don’t begrudge Robert this small token of her affection.”
Rhonda’s voice sharpened and jealousy flared in her eyes. “Robert isn’t the benefactor—she is.”
“I’m certain Robert never intended to upset you with his decision to give me the sapphires. If I gave you the set, I’d feel as if I’d betrayed him.”
“No one’s asking you to,” Rhonda denied. Her lips twisted in a sneer. “Besides, the sapphires are mere trumpery compare to her emeralds and she left those to me along with the rest of her jewelry.”
Heloise held up a hand, her spine stiff in distaste. “Not another word on the subject. I forbid it.”
Rhonda bit her lip, sparking daggers of hatred at Laurel. Laurel shivered beneath her sister-in-law’s deadly glare.
Adron paced the length of the rug in front of his desk, hands clasped behind his back. Laurel—that damn woman! She drove him insane with her delicate beauty and her stubborn will. Each time he touched her, her involuntary response, quick and discernible, spoke volumes of her passionate nature, but he saw no sign of her capitulation.
At this point, he hoped she would be relegated to the background where he could saunter past her and not be subjected to this raging lust. He acknowledged he was knee deep in lust—only lust he assured himself. All the same, he must conquer his ever-growing desire. He rubbed his hands over his hair, cupping the back of his neck with his fingers.
Somehow he must bring this situation to a satisfactory conclusion before his baser instincts betrayed him. He slammed one fist against his palm. No doubt his ability to reason had disappeared into his pants. Once he managed to shake loose from his inconvenient desire for Laurel, he could call his soul his own again.
He cursed and glared at Winwright, his butler when he poked his head in the door. “Milord, you have a caller. Sir George Dunaway.”
Great. George was the last person he expected to receive today although he shouldn’t be too surprised. Paige had regaled him with tales of George’s visits to the nursery, his strolls with the children and in general his willingness to be the most obliging fellow to Laurel for the entire two weeks of his own absence. Adron couldn’t prevent his brows from wrinkling into a scowl.
George entered the room with a guilty grin. “I’m sorry I kept you waiting. I thought to say hello to the children first.”
The children—that’s rich. Adron pasted a we
lcoming smile on his lips and gestured toward an armchair beside the fireplace. He settled into the adjacent chair. “You’re a little early for the ball.”
Laughter smoldered in George’s eyes and his lips twitched. “I take it you don’t remember. We had an appointment.” Perturbed, Adron reached for a box on the table beside him and extracted a cigar. It was impossible to admit to his friend that his every waking thought was of Laurel. He longed to taste her passion, to have her complete surrender and much more, but he couldn’t admit that either. Adron shied away from the thought of exactly what that might mean. “Laurel, that damned woman has me so rattled I’m like to forget my own name.”
George grinned. “Handed you a leveler has she?”
“A curst folly bringing her into my household in the first place. She should have accepted the fact of my guardianship of her son with grace and gone about her business.”
George lifted his brows. “Just like that? Abandon her child? You are insane.”
“She drove my cousin to his death. Abandoning her son is not such a far stretch from that.”
George scowled and fisted his hands. “How can you utter such rot? It puts me out of all charity with you when you talk such fustian.”
“It’s fact not fustian.”
George lifted his brows. “Stubborn to a fault. You refuse to be pried from the past, clinging to memories of by gone hurts as if you were a child with a favorite toy. Move on old chap.”
“I don’t deny I cling to the past but I’m forced to be cautious for Jamie’s sake.” Adron raked his fingers through his hair.
“Laurel is a marvelous mother. The children love her and all of the servants extol her virtues,” George said with exasperated force.
Reluctant to admit she wasn’t the wicked person she’d been painted, Adron conceded he was stubborn. Surely he wasn’t so unfairly wrong-headed? “If she is so wonderful, offer for her. You’re a fine, up-standing fellow.” Adron gestured with his hand. “She’ll find no fault with you or your pocket book.”
“Blimey, what a capital idea.” George’s voice rang with sarcasm. “I was afraid to put my proposal to the touch but if I have your blessing, nothing shall stand in my way.” His voice took on a different tone. “She and her son will make a delicious addition to my household.”
Adron nailed George with a penetrating stare. No way in Hell would he stand by while George married Laurel. Even to himself Adron couldn’t determine exactly why the thought bothered him so much. “I wasn’t serious. But you marry her as soon as you please,” he snapped and added a leveler of his own. “The child stays here.”
“You don’t mean that,” George erupted in anger, his eyes fairly blazing.
“Every word.”
George vaulted to his feet. “I ought to call you out for that piece of nonsense. Laurel will stay and raise her child no matter how unfair you become.”
Adron slowly gained his feet as well. “I don’t believe for a moment that she’ll stay.”
George frowned and his voice sharpened. “You want her to fail, to be proved right about your daft theory but you’ll regret it. Melissa will notice by and by if she hasn’t already. No doubt she’ll give you the hell you so richly deserve.”
Adron winced. “Melissa has no rights where I’m concerned. She has received no offer.”
“Hit a soft spot with that, did I?”
“You’ve lost your mind. And you’re wrong about everything.”
“If you say so.” George’s tone dropped and an earnest appeal rang in his voice. “But what of your grandmother’s wishes?”
“She doesn’t run my life.”
“You could have fooled me,” George scoffed. “Poor Melissa’s hopes dashed.”
Anger pushed Adron. George had no right to lecture him about Laurel or Melissa and trying to sway him with guilt simply raised his ire. He had his fair share of guilt over Robert’s death and would accept no more. With that in mind, he formed a sharp answer he didn’t actually intend to carry through, simply to rile George. “That aside, by the time I’m finished with Laurel, she’ll be longing to escape my rule and to marry a nice, easy-going chap such as yourself.”
“Short of killing you there is little I can do to stop you is there?”
Surprised and a little alarmed at his friend, Adron admitted perhaps he’d allowed his temper to overcome his judgment. He should never have flung that nonsense at George. Now he needed a face saving tactic. “No, but in fairness to your noble intentions, I propose a test for her.”
“What sort of test?”
“A test of her overwhelming love for her son.” Adron hated the understanding in his friend’s eyes and warm color crept along his cheekbones.
“You’ve tested her unmercifully now.”
Adron cocked his head to the side. “You understand I failed Robert once but where his child is concerned, I won’t fail again.”
“You make that an excuse. I thought I knew you but you’ve allowed your sense of fair play to become twisted.” George raised his chin. “You’ve let your rigid view of women in general blind you.” A look of great sadness crossed his face. “She’ll give up her very life for her son. I hope you’ll come to your senses before you require that of her,” he finished and strode out the door.
Adron stood staring at the space George had vacated. What kind of monster did George think he was? Adron didn’t intend to physically harm Laurel. That piece of self-delusion brought a half smile to his lips. He admitted at times he’d fought the longing to throttle her, but he would never actually do such a thing. The thought of her in harm’s way brought a queasy sensation to his stomach.
He poured a shot of whiskey and drank it down before hurling the snifter into the fireplace. The shattered chards of glass crashed to the bottom of the empty grate and the sound intensified the pain forming in his head. “Well hell!”
Chapter 6
Later, after the children had been fed, bathed and tucked into bed, Laurel rushed to prepare her toilette before the ball. She slipped into her chamber, surprised by bright moonlight streaming through the narrow window. The hangings had been shoved to one side and Rhonda stood with her hands on the top of the chest of drawers. She spun around to face Laurel.
“Rhonda,” Laurel snapped. “What are you doing here?”
“What did you do with my jewels?” Rhonda hissed and moved closer. She sidled across the chamber with her hips swaying and a mocking smile on her lips.
The key hanging from a chain around Laurel’s neck seemed to burn against her flesh and her heart leapt into her throat before reason returned. Rhonda couldn’t be talking about the casket of jewelry Robert had entrusted to her the night he died. Her sister-in-law must mean the sapphires. Laurel’s resolve stiffened. She didn’t want this fight, but she wouldn’t give in to Rhonda’s demands either. She cleared her throat. “I’ve done nothing with your jewelry.”
“Such a sweet, deceiving little—baggage. No one would believe me when I tried to tell the authorities about you. You killed my brother as surely as if you delivered the deadly dose with your own hand.”
Laurel drew back. “You’re deranged. Please leave my room.”
Mocking laughter spilled from Rhonda’s lips and spears of hatred sparked from her eyes. “If you imagine you will end up with anything, you’re the one who’s daft.”
Laurel stepped to the door and held it open. “As you say. Now please have the goodness to leave.”
Rhonda flung her head back, picked up her skirts and departed without another word. Laurel wished she could be shed of Rhonda’s lingering perfume as easily.
Laurel sank onto the bed, her composure shattered. For her, the confrontation with Rhonda dredged up old memories of Robert best left buried. She could almost smell the whiskey on his breath even now. He’d given
her the jewels, gently kissed her and limped away. Tears gathered in her eyes, but she quickly brushed the moisture away. She had no time to brood over the matter now. Bolting from the bed, she struck a flint to light her lamp.
Tonight would be her first opportunity to lay aside her widow’s weeds and don an exquisite ball gown. Abandoning her mourning apparel didn’t mean she no longer cared about Robert’s demise, she assured herself. She grieved for her son’s loss because he would never know his father, but for her part, resentment toward Robert’s total disregard for her as his wife still rankled. Gritting her teeth, she relegated the past where it belonged—behind her.
Laurel stripped to her chemise before having a quick wash. With reverent fingers, she smoothed her gown of blue spider gauze laced with silver ribbons. The underskirt of white satin was lovely and would allow only the toes of her white slippers to peek beneath the hem. This gown deserved to be displayed to advantage, but she would be unable to lace herself into a corset. A tap sounded at her door. “Enter.”
A beaming servant, young, freckled with red hair stepped inside. “Lady Gladrey sent me to help with your toilette.” She held up a fire-heated curling iron. “Your hair is beautiful but I brung this. Attending a ball you need to be extra special.”
“But,” Laurel murmured then snapped her mouth shut. She’d longed for just such a happening and now her wishes had been fulfilled. “The corset first then.”
The maid tightened the laces, pushing Laurel’s breast up satisfactorily and cinched the corset still further around her small waist. She couldn’t breathe as well, but she felt whole again, proper and lady like. The gown showed her figure to perfection almost guaranteed to set Adron back on his heels.
Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman Page 6