Redemption of a Marquess: Rules of Refinement Book Three (The Marriage Maker 7)

by Tarah Scott

  “As a woman of sense, Miss Matheson can see that you are not a romantic,” Gordon said.

  “You say that as if being unromantic is a bad thing,” Valan maintained a contemplative voice intended to incite him.

  Gordon’s mouth thinned. “You wouldn’t understand the difference.”

  “His lordship understands the difference perfectly well,” Miss Matheson said.

  Once again, everyone looked at her.

  “Pray tell, how do you know?” Valan asked.

  She offered a smug smile. “As a woman of sense, I can see that you are intelligent enough to understand what romance is—even if you aren’t romantic.”

  Valan laughed. “Far be it from me to argue with a woman.”

  “Woman?” Gordon said. “She is barely out of the schoolroom.”

  Miss Matheson scowled. “I am nineteen, a full-grown woman. I have two younger sisters. One married at eighteen, the other at seventeen. I am an old maid.”

  “An old maid?” Valan grimaced. “If you are an old maid, then I am ancient.”

  She rolled her eyes. “Age is different for men.”

  “How very fortunate for us,” Valan said.

  “How fortunate, indeed,” Lady Chastity said in a dry tone.

  The orchestra began a waltz. Miss Matheson looked at the dancers, longing in her eyes, then shifted her gaze to Valan. “We learned the waltz at Lady Peddington’s. Will you dance with me?”

  “A lady does not ask a gentleman to dance,” he admonished. “She waits for a gentleman to ask her.”

  “But a lady might wait forever,” she said.

  He tweaked one of her curls. “You will not wait long, trust me, my dear.”

  “Be warned, Miss Matheson,” Gordon said, “a true gentleman does not touch a lady’s hair in public.” He bowed. “May I have the honor of this dance?”

  She looked to Valan and Gordon’s cheeks reddened.

  “Trust me,” Gordon persisted. “We shall dance and have refreshments, then I will see that you arrive home safely.”

  “How very entertaining,” Valan drawled. “I believe Gordon hopes to become your protector, my dear. Never fear—” Valan flashed Gordon a smile “—she has a protector.”

  Chapter Three

  Satisfaction rushed through Valan when understanding registered in Gordon’s eyes.

  Lady Chastity looked at her husband and Valan glimpsed the tiny shake of Stirling’s head an instant before Gordon addressed Valan, “You think yourself so clever.”

  “Excuse me,” Miss Matheson said, “But—”

  Gordon swung his gaze onto Sir Stirling. “She is an innocent, my lord. You cannot allow Northington to make her his mistress.”

  Valan widened his eyes. “Mistress?” he repeated in unison with Miss Matheson.

  Her eyes snapped onto him, but he kept his stare on Gordon. “You misunderstand, Gordon. She is not my mistress. She is my ward.”

  Gordon gaped. “Your ward?”

  “Forgive me.” Valan gave a tiny bow. “That is a gross misunderstanding and completely my fault. I should have clarified earlier.”

  “No misunderstanding, I wager,” Gordon muttered. “We all know your reputation as The Morning Star.”

  Valan flashed a broad smile. “The Morning Star was considered the most beautiful of all God’s creations.”

  Anger born of thirty years of envy flashed in Gordon’s eyes. “Aye, you are arrogant enough to believe that of yourself.”

  “You give me too much credit,” Valan said. “I have never held myself in such high esteem.”

  “Oh, but you do—and you do not deny the nickname.”

  “Excuse me, Lord Gordon, but this is not your business.” Miss Matheson gave a dismissive wave of her hand. “Go away.”

  Valan struggled to maintain a neutral expression.

  “You will thank me, Miss Matheson,” Gordon replied tightly, then said to Sir Stirling, “My lord, I appeal to your sense of duty. Northington cannot be allowed sway in this young woman’s life.”

  “I find this wildly amusing,” Valan interjected. “It seems Gordon would like to reinterpret the law.”

  A group of ladies passed close by. Once they left earshot, Gordon said, “I happen to know, sir, that Miss Matheson is a student of Lady Peddington’s School for Young Ladies and she is no relation to you.”

  “Indeed?” said Valan. “I am all agog. How is it you find yourself in possession of this knowledge and what has it to do with anything?”

  “That is none of your concern. All that matters is that your so-called guardianship is a ruse to take advantage of her.”

  “You are very rude,” said Miss Matheson with heat. “His lordship has been a perfect gentleman. Why, when he found me in the garden, he was very adamant that I return to the ballroom before my reputation was ruined.”

  “Found you in the gardens?” A glint appeared in Gordon’s eyes and his gaze shifted to Valan. “I will not allow you to take advantage of another unsuspecting woman.”

  “One might wonder, my dear Gordon, how you propose to stop me were that my plan.” Valan lifted a brow. “With a pistol, perhaps?”

  “That method worked in the past.”

  “The inexperience of youth, do you not agree?” Valan laughed. “In truth, you saved me much grief by intervening that night.”

  Gordon blinked. “I beg your pardon?”

  “Victoria and I didn’t suit at all. Marriage would have been disastrous.” Valan flashed a grin. “The passion of youth.” Gordon’s eyes sparked. Valan gave him no chance to reply, but turned to Lady Chastity. “Might I impose upon you, my lady, to take Miss Matheson home with you tonight—with your husband’s permission, of course? Tomorrow, my ward will have a female companion at Finley Hall.”

  “I would be pleased to have Miss Matheson stay with us,” she replied.

  Valan addressed Miss Matheson. “Would you prefer to stay with Lady Chastity rather than return to Lady Peddington’s school?”

  She beamed. “Oh, indeed, I would, sir.”

  He smiled. “Good, then go with her, as I ask.”

  She pinned him with a shrewd look. “Promise that tomorrow you will find a companion for me and I shall come live with you?”

  “You must save your penchant for negotiation for business,” he said.

  “That is not an answer,” she said.

  He sighed. “I promise, my child.”

  She wrinkled her nose. “And you will stop calling me ‘child.’”

  He angled his head with cultured grace. “As you command.”

  She gave a succinct nod. “Then I shall do as you ask.” She looked at Lady Chastity. “I will leave when you are ready.”

  Lady Chastity exchanged a look with her husband, then said, “We can leave now.”

  “My lord,” Gordon said to Sir Stirling, “surely you see how dangerous this situation is for Miss Matheson?”

  Sir Stirling’s expression chilled. “In fact, there is nowhere safer for her than in the company of my wife.”

  Gordon paled. “Of course. That is not what I meant. I only meant that Northington’s plans for her are less than honorable.”

  Miss Matheson snorted. “I am done with this one. We may go.”

  Valan regarded her severely. “I beg of you, Miss Matheson, do not snort like a common tavern wench.”

  She hung her head. “I am sorry, sir.”

  “You are forgiven. Now, go with Lady Chastity and, I beg you, behave—at least until I next see you.”

  “I promise.” She gave him a full smile before he said to Sir Stirling, “Good evening, Sir Stirling.” He faced Lady Chastity. “My lady, thank you for your kindness.”

  Without so much as a glance at Gordon, he strode away.

  * * *

  Finding a governess on short notice wasn’t terribly hard. Finding one who would not crumble under Miss Matheson’s determined nature, proved more difficult. Valan settled for a woman of twenty-eight years, who was ta
ller than his new ward by at least five inches. One would think her height would give her an advantage, but her light brown hair fastened in a severe chignon, combined with her quiet manner, reminded him of a sparrow.

  She sat across from him in the carriage, her hands folded demurely in her lap, as

  befitted a paid companion. For today, she would satisfy propriety. He would hire someone more suitable post haste.

  They reached Stirling’s home exactly at four p.m., as Valan had promised in his note sent earlier that day. He alighted from the coach, then turned and assisted Miss Stone to the ground. They proceeded up the walkway and up the three steps to the door.

  He knocked. A moment later, the door opened, and an austere butler led them down a short hallway and into a parlor, tastefully decorated in pale gold and blues.

  “I shall tell his lordship you are here.” He bowed and left.

  Thankfully, Miss Stone remained quiet while they waited.

  Minutes later, Sir Stirling and Lady Chastity entered with Miss Matheson between them. Miss Matheson flew across the room and threw herself into Valan’s arms.

  “I am so pleased to see you, sir.”

  “So I gather.” He grasped her shoulders and set her at arm’s length. “Our first order of business when we arrive home will be a serious discussion on your conduct with a gentleman.” Valan turned and bowed to Lady Chastity. “My lady. You are looking particularly radiant.” She cast a curious glance at her husband. Valan turned to Sir Stirling. “Your lordship. May I introduce Miss Stone. Miss Stone, the Marquess and Marchioness of Roxburgh.”

  Miss Stone curtsied.

  He nodded toward Jeanine. “This is your charge, Miss Matheson.”

  “I am not her charge,” Miss Matheson said. “We agreed that I am not a child.”

  “I believe I agreed not to call you a child,” Valan said.

  Miss Matheson cast him a sideways glance, then said to Miss Stone, “You are very tall.”

  “That is not polite,” Valan said. “I wager Miss Peddington taught you better manners.”

  “I did not say being tall was a bad thing. So, I wasn’t being rude.”

  “Perhaps we do not understand one another,” he said. “If you want to be my ward, you will not contradict me.”

  “I—”

  “Do you wish to be my ward?” he cut in.

  She clamped her mouth shut and nodded.

  “Then we are agreed,” he said.

  She nodded again and looked at Miss Stone. “Truly, I meant no offense.”

  The young woman smiled. “It is true, I am unusually tall, but I’m certain I surprised you. His lordship is correct, however. A lady never points out another’s shortcomings, no matter how obvious they are.”

  Miss Matheson’s eyes darkened. “Being tall is not a shortcoming. Anyone who says otherwise is cruel.”

  “You are right, of course,” Miss Stone said.

  Miss Matheson’s expression cleared. “We shall get along famously.” She looked up at Valan and smiled. “You have chosen well, sir.

  He lifted a brow. “Have I, indeed?”

  “You have, and are quite pleased with yourself.”

  “A man takes pleasure where he can. Shall we go?”

  “May I have a word with you before you leave?” Stirling said.

  Valan angled his head in agreement, then said to Miss Matheson, “Will you and Miss Stone wait in the carriage, please?”

  “Come along, ladies,” Lady Chastity said. “We will make certain Miss Matheson’s boxes are collected.”

  “Boxes?” Valan repeated.

  “Chastity purchased a few essentials for Miss Matheson,” Sir Stirling said.

  “How kind of you,” Valan said.

  The ladies left, and Valan said, “Thank you for keeping her. Please forward me the bills for her things.”

  Stirling shook his head. “Chastity wanted to give her a few items. I promise you, the real expense for her wardrobe still lays with you. She’s a very vivacious young lady.”

  Valan met his gaze squarely. “I have no designs on her, if that is your concern.”

  “I’m not the least bit concerned. I thought you might like to know that Lord Gordon has petitioned Chastity’s father to intercede for the girl.”

  “Has he, now?” Valan murmured. “One wonders where Lord Gordon finds the time to crusade so determinedly. His own father’s affairs have suffered these last two years.”

  “He has designs on her, of course,” Stirling said.

  Valan stared. “I had no idea you were so forthright.”

  Sterling laughed. “I’m not always. But I feel certain you already knew Gordon wanted her.”

  “Aye,” Valan said. “I haven’t known him to do anything out of the goodness of his heart.”

  “Many would say the same of you,” Sterling said.

  “They would be right,” Valan admitted.

  “Then why do this?”

  “Whatever my reasons, I do not lie when I say the girl is in no danger from me.”

  Stirling studied him. “Those reasons are, I think, to annoy Lord Gordon.”

  “I’m not certain I believe you when you say you’re not always so forthright,” Valan said.

  Stirling smiled. “Nonetheless, it is true. Being blunt with you is necessary.”

  “I see,” Valan said in a dry voice. “Will His Grace interfere?”

  Stirling shook his head. “I doubt it. Chastity will speak with him.”

  “I’m surprised she isn’t concerned for Miss Matheson,” Valan said.

  Stirling’s grin widened. “Chastity married a man who carried her down the aisle over his shoulder then encouraged her to take her vows. She is not given to nerves, particularly around unorthodox men.”

  “You are a fortunate man.”

  “I am. If ye need further help, don’t hesitate to ask,” Stirling said.

  Valan thanked him, took his leave, and found his ward and her chaperone waiting in the carriage, boxes piled high on top of the vehicle.

  Miss Matheson squealed with delight as he stepped into the carriage and pulled the door shut. Valan sat on the seat opposite them. “Miss Matheson, I ask that you conduct yourself as purports a lady. You will notice that Miss Stone remained calm as I entered the carriage. Please follow her example.”

  “You cannot expect all ladies to react in exactly the same fashion, sir.”

  Valan rapped on the roof of the carriage, which soon jolted into motion. “In public, and in matters of propriety, I can, indeed, expect you to adhere to similar manners.”

  She tilted her head. “But in private, I may behave naturally?”

  “You may speak plainly with me, Miss Matheson.”

  She made a face.

  He sighed. “What is it now?”

  “If we are to speak plainly when alone, then you must call me Jennie.”

  “I will not,” he said. “Jeanine, will do.”

  “My mother and sisters call me Jennie,” she said.

  “That is their prerogative,” he said. “In public, or when we have guests, I will call you Miss Matheson. When we are at home or alone, I will call you Jeanine.”

  She clapped her hands. “And I shall call you Valan.”

  He shook his head. “In public, you will address me as ‘my lord’ or ‘Lord Northington,’ or even ‘sir.’ In private, you will address me as ‘sir’ or ‘my lord.’”

  She wrinkled her nose. “It does not seem fair that you can call me by my Christian name, but I must always call you ‘my lord’ or ‘sir.’”

  “Anyone who told you life is fair, my dear, was lying.”

  Chapter Four

  They arrived home to find tea waiting for them in the parlor.

  Jeanine and Miss Matheson settled on the settee and Valan took the chair to their left. Miss Stone poured and handed out the cups.

  “What does a ward do?” Jeanine asked.

  Valan paused as he lifted the teacup to his lips. “I am
not quite sure.”

  “She will continue her education as a lady,” Miss Stone said. “Sewing, pianoforte, party planning, perhaps a little Latin and French. Parlez-vous françaiss, mademoiselle?” she said in flawless French.

  “Miss Stone, you surprise me,” Valan said.

  “Tu parles français comme un parisien,” Jeanine said.

  “Miss Matheson,” Valan said in delight. “You, too, speak French like a Parisian. Where did you learn?”

  “From Lady Peddington, of course.”

  “Surely, you spoke the language before you attended her school,” he said.

  Jeanine beamed and shook her head. “Nae. She said I was a natural. I don’t speak fluently, but I would love to visit Paris and practice.”

  “Well, the way you and Miss Stone speak French, it would be a crime not to go.” He looked at Miss Stone. “Is a trip to France permissible for a ward?”

  “Very much so, sir.”

  “Then it’s settled.”

  Baldwin entered, carrying a single envelope on a silver tray. “Forgive the interruption, my lord.” He stopped in front of Valan. “This just arrived for you from Lady Douglas. Her man awaits a reply.”

  Valan set down his teacup, took the envelope and pulled the notecard from within:

  An invitation from Lady Douglas for an intimate luncheon on the morrow. He looked at Baldwin. “Please have the man waiting, inform Lady Douglas that Miss Matheson and Miss Stone will be happy to attend the party.”

  “As you wish, sir.” Baldwin bowed and left.

  “A party?” Miss Matheson said.

  Valan handed her the invitation.

  She scanned the note, then looked up. “How did Lady Douglas learn so soon that I am to be your ward?”

  “You are not ‘to be’ my ward,” Valan corrected. “You are my ward. As for how she knew so quickly…” He thought of Lord Gordon. “Society always finds a way to spread the latest news.”

  “I am not particularly interested in a luncheon,” Jeanine said.

  “Miss Douglas has been kind enough to extend the invitation at this late date. You will attend.”

  “You do not mean to attend?” she demanded.

  He hadn’t planned to attend, then imagined her strolling in the garden and being accosted by a wolf who didn’t know she was the Marquess of Northington’s ward. “Of course, I will accompany you.”