How To Seduce A Sinner

by Adrienne Basso

  “Nonsense, Phillips. Bring them in here immediately,” Lady Meredith said with a smile of enthusiasm. “I vow I am as curious as Dorothea to see what’s been sent.”

  Dorothea settled herself in the chair opposite Lady Meredith’s. She accepted a cup of hot chocolate from a footman but declined anything more than toast, forgoing the array of hot items in silver chafing dishes set on the sideboard.

  As ordered, Phillips returned to the dining room with two footmen trailing on his heels, each carrying an assortment of flowers in their arms.

  “How beautiful,” Lady Meredith declared as she hastily pushed her empty plate away to make room on the table for the numerous bouquets.

  Dorothea smiled and reached first for a lovely bouquet of pink and white primroses. The stems were all cut to the same length and wound with white and pink striped satin ribbon. “Oh, smell these,” she said, holding them out toward Lady Meredith.

  “Delicious,” Lady Meredith declared. “Who are they from?”

  Anxiously, Dorothea tore open the card. “Major Roddington,” she answered with surprise. How sweet. Apparently he had enjoyed their dance together last night. “He’s asked to take me out for a drive this afternoon and hopes I will consent to enjoying a quiet picnic lunch with him in Banberry Park.”

  “A picnic. That sounds charming.” Lady Meredith reached for a nosegay of yellow peonies. “I bet I know who sent these.”

  Dorothea and Lady Meredith glanced at each other, smiled, then both pronounced at the same time, “Sir Perry!”

  “Poor man, he suffers from an extreme lack of imagination,” Lady Meredith commented. “He sends the exact same bouquet every time. Twelve yellow peonies, tied with a satin ribbon in a paler shade of yellow. Is there a poem today?”

  Dorothea met Lady Meredith’s amused gaze across the table as she unsealed the card that accompanied the flowers. She quickly scanned the contents. “Yes, unfortunately Sir Perry has seen fit to regale me with another of his original sonnets. It is written in his customary flowery, overblown style and pays homage to my—” Dorothea sputtered, blinked, then finally managed to choke out, “wrists.”

  The marquess, sitting at his usual place at the head of the table, slowly lowered the newspaper he had been reading and peered at Dorothea over the top of the page. “Your wrists? Sir Perry wrote a poem praising your wrists? Surely, I misheard.”

  Dorothea giggled and Lady Meredith joined her. “Oh, no, my lord, this epic poem is most assuredly an ode to my delicate, fragile, beauteous wrists, dainty and pretty and lovelier than fists.”

  “The man’s mad as a March hare,” Lord Dardington pronounced. “I ask you, what sane person would single out that particular part of a woman’s anatomy for praise?”

  “Not so much mad as desperate, I believe,” Dorothea said before she burst into another round of giggles. “Poor Sir Perry has written me no fewer than a dozen poems. Obviously, he is beginning to run out of body parts to extol.”

  Dorothea’s comments sent Lady Meredith into another fit of laughter. When the older woman finally regained her composure, she once again turned her attention to Dorothea’s flowers.

  “Who sent this exquisite orchid?” Lady Meredith asked.

  Dorothea thoughtfully fingered the delicate bloom before reaching for the card, but her momentary blush of anticipation soon turned to disappointment when she read the signature.

  “It’s from Lord Rosen. I remember he once told me that he cultivates them in his hothouse,” Dorothea said with a casual air she was far from feeling. Turning to one of the footmen, she added, “Please give the orchid to Cook, with my compliments. I remember that she has a fondness for them.”

  Lady Meredith’s brow lifted fractionally. Dorothea glanced away, then hastily broke off a piece of toast and began to eat. She had not told her guardians about her encounter with Lord Rosen and she had every intention of keeping them in the dark over what had occurred in the garden last night.

  The orchid was removed and the tightness in Dorothea’s chest eased. If only it were as easy to remove the memory of the time she spent in Lord Rosen’s company.

  Dorothea took a fortifying sip of her now lukewarm chocolate and reached for another bouquet. Soon the remainder of the flowers and cards were sorted through. Vases were fetched and, with Dorothea’s permission, Lady Meredith instructed which bouquets were to be placed in which rooms.

  Dorothea requested that the primroses from Major Roddington be placed in her bedchamber. She saved Sir Perry’s latest poem also, intending to enclose it along with the next letter she sent her sister Emma. She suspected the younger girl would find it similarly absurd and amusing.

  “That felt a bit like Christmas morning, did it not?” Lady Meredith asked after the table had been cleared of all the foliage. “So many delightful surprises.”

  “It was fun,” Dorothea agreed, though her heart harbored a beat of disappointment. There had been nothing from Lord Atwood.

  “I received three invitations requesting my company on a carriage ride this afternoon, but I would like to go on the picnic with Major Roddington,” Dorothea said. “May I, Lord Dardington?”

  Once again, the marquess slowly lowered the newspaper he was holding. “I am not acquainted with a Major Roddington.”

  “I met him last night at the ball,” Dorothea replied hastily. “He was most charming.”

  “Humph.” The paper rattled as it was snapped back into place, once more concealing Lord Dardington’s features.

  “The weather seems ideal for an outing in the park,” Lady Meredith said. “I believe it would be a splendid day for Dorothea to have her picnic with the major.”

  Lord Dardington dropped his paper onto the table and glared at his wife. “We know nothing about him. Who is he? Who are his people? How did he even get an invitation to the ball if we are not acquainted with him?”

  Dorothea shook her head and shrugged helplessly. “Lord Atwood introduced us, therefore I assume they are friends. As for the rest, I don’t really know.”

  The marquess gestured toward both women with a wave of his hand. “Honestly! You cannot possibly expect me to give you permission to drive out with this man when you know so little about him.”

  Lady Meredith pinched the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger. “That is the point of the outing, Trevor, to give Dorothea and the major an opportunity to become better acquainted.”

  “They can do that in our drawing room,” the marquess grumbled. “Surrounded by a proper group of chaperones and other callers.”

  Lady Meredith muttered something under her breath. Dorothea’s stomach dipped with disappointment. It would have been lovely to get away from the house for part of the afternoon. Plus the outing would provide the perfect distraction from her brooding over Lord Atwood.

  “A picnic in a public park in the middle of the afternoon is a perfectly respectable outing and a very reasonable request.” Lady Meredith eyed her husband shrewdly. “And as I recall, just last night you promised me that you would strive to be fair and reasonable regarding Dorothea’s gentlemen callers.”

  A muscle clenched in Lord Dardington’s jaw. He lifted his coffee cup, took a long sip, then replaced the delicate china cup back in the saucer. Lady Meredith smiled at him serenely.

  “If she goes with him, she will need a far more substantial chaperone than her maid,” the marquess finally said.

  Dorothea’s stomach tumbled again. Oh, dear. Was the marquess going to assign himself to the task of chaperoning her? If that were the case, she might as well stay home.

  “I will gladly undertake that duty and our daughters will accompany me,” Lady Meredith answered. “You know how much they enjoy going on picnics.”

  “You and the girls?” Lord Dardington drummed his fingers on the table. “How will you all fit in his carriage?”

  Dorothea was thinking the exact same thing. Though she appreciated Lady Meredith’s efforts to assist her, this was not the result she had hop
ed to achieve. Major Roddington had struck her as an even-tempered, pleasant man, but she worried at his reaction when he discovered their picnic would now include four additional people. Three of them little girls.

  “I would never dream of being so rude as to foist myself and our daughters upon the poor man.” Lady Meredith cleared her throat. “Dorothea will ride out with the major when he comes to call. The girls and I will either follow behind them or perhaps arrive beforehand at the park at an agreed-upon location.

  “Riding in our own carriage is a necessity, since the girls will insist upon bringing along their favorite books and dolls and Cook will no doubt pack a lunch with all their favorite foods in quantities far more appropriate to feeding Wellington’s army than three youngsters.”

  It was a reasonable compromise. One that Lord Dardington should not find objectionable, but Dorothea knew that he might. She held her breath tensely as she awaited his answer.

  “You may send word to Roddington that you would be delighted to accept his invitation,” Lord Dardington finally said. “Though be certain to include the new details required for you to participate in the outing. I vow, only a man with honorable intentions would agree to have Lady Meredith and my darling daughters so near.”

  Dorothea felt the smile well up from her heart. “Thank you, my lord. If you will excuse me, I shall write to him immediately.”

  “Don’t forget about the other gentlemen,” Lady Meredith chided gently.

  Other gentlemen? Dorothea stared blankly at Lady Meredith.

  “Major Roddington was not the only man who sent you flowers and invitations,” Lady Meredith added.

  Of course. Dorothea blushed. Her head was truly fuzzy this morning. A combination of a late night and…well, it didn’t bear too close thinking as to what else had her rattled.

  “You are right, Lady Meredith. This will be the perfect time to also compose notes of acknowledgment and thanks to the others who were so kind to me.”

  With a final smile, Dorothea quit the room. The remainder of the morning passed swiftly, and at the appointed hour Major Roddington promptly presented himself. He smiled with genuine warmth when she greeted him, and she noted with a sense of satisfaction how his eyes lit up with appreciation as he took in her fashionable ensemble.

  “You look lovely, Miss Ellingham.”

  “Thank you.”

  Dorothea lowered her chin and smiled, glad that she had taken the extra time to make a special effort with her appearance. The deep blue shade of her muslin gown set off the blue in her eyes, and the matching hat she wore looked best with a section of her blond curls trailing down to her shoulders.

  The major held his own against Lord Dardington as the marquess quizzed him sharply about the planned outing. After what seemed like an eternity to Dorothea, they were finally able to escape from the house. Her eyes lightened with interest when she caught sight of the handsome phaeton waiting at the curb.

  “No need to look so impressed, Miss Ellingham,” the major said with a grin. “The carriage is on loan.”

  “You must be a very good friend if you were allowed to borrow such prime equipment,” Dorothea replied, knowing such a fine rig and impressive cattle could not be rented from a stable.

  “Though I have not known him long, the Marquess of Atwood has proven to be an amiable and generous man.”

  Dorothea’s foot stumbled as she lifted it onto the carriage step and she nearly lost her balance. Had she heard correctly? Had he really said the Marquess of Atwood?

  “My, yes, Lord Atwood is generous,” she said, her face warming with embarrassment. Good heavens, who would have ever thought the marquess and the major would be such close friends. It was surprising, for they seemed very different in personality and circumstance.

  As usual, the London streets were crowded and the carriage horses, though well trained, were eager to run. It was necessary for the major to keep his concentration on the spirited horses, but Dorothea did not mind the lack of conversation. She spent the time enjoying the view and the fresh air and admiring his skill as he tightly held the reins and expertly negotiated them through the streets.

  Within the hour they safely arrived at Banberry Park, a charming enclave on the outskirts of Town. There were a small number of people strolling on the marked paths, enjoying the pleasant spring weather. Dorothea turned her head and immediately she spied a most familiar group.

  “I see Lady Meredith and her daughters have arrived,” Dorothea said, answering Lady Meredith’s wave with one of her own.

  “Shall we join them?” the major asked.

  “As long as we remain in view, we can set our picnic in a separate location,” Dorothea replied.

  The major glanced at the chaos surrounding the marchioness, with the many blankets, toys, servants, and boisterous children, and turned the carriage in the opposite direction.

  Dorothea smiled prettily at him as he assisted her down from the vehicle. They chose a shady spot beneath a majestic chestnut tree. With great aplomb, the major spread a blanket on the grass, then settled her comfortably upon it.

  He opened the straw basket and began rooting around inside. “I asked my batman to procure our lunch from the tavern down the street from my lodgings. I hope you find it to your liking, Miss Ellingham.”

  “Your batman,” Dorothea teased. “Do you not employ a proper valet?”

  The major’s brows knit together. “You’re right, since I am no longer in the military, I should now call him my valet. Though honestly, he is more a jack-of-all-trades and in truth a loyal friend. Parker served with me in the Peninsula and later fought by my side at Waterloo. ’Tis difficult to relegate a man to an inferior position after he has saved your life.”

  “Were you in the army a long time?”

  “Since I was fifteen. I joined as a regular foot soldier. It took many years and a minor bequest from a distant relation before I was able to purchase my commission.”

  “Ah, so there was no rich father to smooth the way?” she asked with a grin.

  He looked momentarily startled, then suddenly grew very still. “No father at all, actually. At least not one who would claim me.”

  “Oh.” Dorothea had no idea what to say. She had never before met anyone who was so open and honest about such a sordid, personal fact.

  “I’ve shocked you,” he said gravely. “Forgive me.”

  Lowering his gaze, the major turned from her and hastily began to unpack the contents of the picnic basket. He placed a wedge of cheese, a crust of bread, and several red, ripe strawberries on a plate, then held it out to her.

  “’Tis I who should apologize,” Dorothea said quietly, ashamed it had taken her so long to respond. The poor man. She had not meant to add to his discomfort by remaining silent for so long. She had simply not known what to say. Dorothea took the plate he offered and tried to smile.

  He shrugged his shoulders, as though it did not matter, but Dorothea was not fooled. His base birth had obviously had a profound impact on his life, as one would expect.

  “Many individuals crumble under adversity,” she continued in a soft voice. “Yet you have obviously thrived. I find that most commendable.”

  The major gazed off in the distance. “You are a very kind woman, Miss Ellingham, but there is no need to pretend. I know my limitations are not merely due to the circumstances of my birth. I am not elegant or polished like these other fine London gentlemen. I’m a soldier, far better suited to lead a cavalry charge against the French than conversing in polite company.”

  “For a man who claims to have no social graces, you are doing a superb job of charming me, sir.” He turned to face her and Dorothea’s gaze locked with his. “And I freely confess to being a woman who prefers a natural, not a practiced, charm.”

  His rough laugh was deep and filled with humor. “Your efforts to appease me are appreciated, yet I refuse to hide from the truth.”

  “That you are charming? I agree it is foolish to try and hide that fac
t.”

  “You are running circles around me, Miss Ellingham,” he replied with an easy grin.

  “I believe you can hold your own very well, sir.” She took a bite of a strawberry, licking away a drop of the sweet juice from her lips. “Very well, indeed.”

  The major leaned forward, his eyes warm with amusement. It was far too soon to even think about kissing him, yet she found herself wondering what it would be like. Pleasant, she was fairly certain, and perhaps something more?

  A loud shout of laughter followed by a chorus of girlish giggles abruptly shattered the mood. Remembering they were out in a very public place, Dorothea shifted her position. Demurely, she set her back against the sturdy trunk of the tree, tucking the skirt of her blue muslin gown around her legs and ankles. The major stretched out on his side, his head propped on one elbow.

  “It’s shocking to find such peace and tranquility so close to the center of London,” he said.

  “You were not raised here?”

  “No. I grew up in the north of England, near Wales.”

  “Alone? With only your mother?” She lowered her chin as a hot blush rose to her cheeks. Curse her wicked, curious tongue. “I’m so sorry. I do not mean to pry.”

  “It’s all right, Miss Ellingham. Truly.” He fiddled with the stem of a small wildflower growing near the trunk of the tree. “I never knew my father. My mother was governess to a wealthy, titled family. She fell in love with a neighboring nobleman. When she found herself carrying his child, he refused her any aid. Having no other choice, she returned home, where some of her relations still lived.”

  “They took her into their home?” Dorothea asked, relieved to hear this poor woman had not been totally abandoned.

  “In a manner of speaking. They gave her, and later me, a place to sleep, food to eat. Her family always thought her a disgrace and treated her accordingly. They tried to convince her to give me away, but she refused. Not surprisingly, they ignored me. But at least they were not so heartless as to throw us out on the street.”