A Match for Mother

by Mona Gedney, Kathryn Kirkwood, Regina Scott

  Glancing in her daughter’s direction once again, Claire gave a sigh of pure exasperation. Lord Dankworth had just taken leave of Willow and he was making his way toward her chair. Claire was not aware that she had sighed so audibly until Lady Jenkins, who was seated in the next chair, responded.

  “Is something wrong, my dear?” Lady Jenkins raised her brows inquiringly.

  “No, indeed.” Claire quickly assumed a pleasant expression. “For one brief moment, I thought that I had misplaced my reticule, but it is here beneath my chair, exactly where I placed it.”

  Lady Jenkins laughed, her sharp eyes returning to survey the dance floor once again. “Just wait until you reach my age, Lady Radcliffe, and you will consider yourself fortunate if the only item you misplace is your reticule. Now do put on your best smile, dear, for I believe Lord Dankworth is headed in our direction. Could it be that he is coming to claim you for this dance?”

  “I do hope that he is not.” Claire rose from her chair with one quick motion. “I have just remembered a matter of some importance that I must discuss with Lady Bollinger. Perhaps you will be so kind as to accommodate him, Lady Jenkins?”

  Lady Jenkins nodded quickly, all smiles. “Of course, my dear. Such a handsome gentleman, and so well situated. I shall be delighted, to be sure.”

  Claire’s eyes scanned the ballroom anxiously and she noted that Lord Dankworth’s forward progress had been halted by an acquaintance. She quickly headed off in the opposite direction, breathing a sigh of immense relief as the distance between them widened.

  Escape foremost in her mind, Claire spotted their hostess taking her leave from a group at the far end of the ballroom. Her position could not have suited Claire’s purpose better, for once she had reached Lady Bollinger’s side, she should be separated from Lord Dankworth by the entire length of the dance floor.

  Claire quickly traversed the distance and had just requested a word with their hostess, when there was a stir at the doorway to the ballroom. Though the orchestra was still playing and the dance floor was crowded with couples, all conversation ceased as the assemblage caught sight of the handsome gentleman who stood there surveying the crowd.

  Despite her best efforts not to stare, Claire’s eyes were drawn to the stranger, who was dressed quite properly in formal attire. He appeared to be approximately her age and he carried himself with an air of authority. His hair was dark, a midnight black, and it was worn a bit longer than was fashionable. His skin was tanned darkly by what Claire surmised was a tropical sun, and his eyes gleamed like sapphires as they roamed over the crowd. His expression was aloof, almost arrogant, Claire thought, his pose studiously casual.

  Conversation began to flow once again, but Claire noticed that more than a few couples had left off dancing and taken up positions that afforded them a better view of the doorway. Though she knew full well that it was impolite of her to stare, Claire found that she could not tear her gaze from the handsome stranger who appeared to be regarding them all with a critical gaze.

  His chin was firm, his nose was perfectly shaped, and his dark brows swept upward at the outer corners, giving him a sardonic look. His broad shoulders and slim waist were encased in a coat that fit him to perfection; he appeared both capable and powerful. A thin white scar, extending from the upper edge of his left brow to a point midway down his cheek, gave him a roguish appearance. Visions of pirates and an adventuresome life on the high seas flashed through Claire’s mind. This handsome newcomer was either the quintessential hero or the fundamental scoundrel. Claire could not decide which category suited him better. It did not matter, for he intrigued her completely and she found herself clutching her hands tightly together as he strode into the room and made his way round the crowded dance floor.

  “Oh, dear!” Lady Bollinger, the daughter of a duke on her father’s side and an undisputed leader of the ton, began to ply her fan most anxiously. “I assure you, Lady Radcliffe, that I did not invite him. I did not even know that he had returned to our shores.”

  “Him? Who?” Claire was aware that her grammar was imperfect, but this was no time to quibble about semantics.

  “The new Earl of Sommerset. He is my late husband’s nephew. Perhaps you have heard him referred to as El Diablo?”

  Claire shook her head, but her eyes widened, recognizing the Spanish word for devil. “He is a Spaniard, Lady Bollinger?”

  “He is English, though Spain was his mother’s country. She came here to marry my late husband’s brother and died giving birth to his heir. He called her condesa, but their titles are different from ours, you know. She was the last of her line and when she died, her family’s wealth passed to her son.”

  Claire nodded, intrigued. “Did you ever have occasion to meet her, Lady Bollinger?”

  “Only once. She possessed a dark beauty that captivated all who set eyes on her. I found her to be most charming, though her command of our language was slight. The earl assumed the part of her translator and we enjoyed a delightful afternoon in their company.”

  “The earl spoke her language?”

  “Yes, indeed.” Lady Bollinger smiled. “He was a most remarkable gentleman and I was inordinately fond of him. He traveled most extensively and possessed the ability to speak in several tongues quite fluently.”

  Claire smiled as she pictured the beautiful Spanish lady and her noble English husband. The condesa must have loved him dearly to leave her home and live with him in a land where she did not even speak the language. It was a most romantical story until one considered the poor little baby who had never even known his mother.

  “He was such a sweet little babe,” Lady Bollinger continued, as if she had read Claire’s thoughts. “I remember feeling quite sorry that he was to be raised by servants and such, as his father was so often away.”

  “The earl did not see fit to remarry to provide a mother for his son?”

  “No.” Lady Bollinger sighed. “My late husband raised the issue once, but the earl dismissed it out of hand. He became quite agitated, claiming that his son was receiving excellent care and asking us not to concern ourselves further. Naturally, we did not broach the subject again.”

  “Naturally.”

  Lady Bollinger leaned close and lowered her voice. “It was quite apparent to me that the earl was suffering from a broken heart. He had truly loved his condesa, you see, and he could not bring himself to take another wife.”

  “But what of his son? Was he not lonely?” Claire also lowered her voice.

  “I do not believe so. He had a delightful governess and the earl saw to it that the children of the estate were made welcome as his friends. When he grew older, he enjoyed a fine education and then he went on to travel with the earl. During those years, they spent almost every moment together, dividing their time between their holdings here and in Spain. It was only when the earl grew ill that he ceased his travels and repaired to his favorite English estate. He died there at Michaelmas, after a long and debilitating illness, and I assume that is why my nephew has returned.”

  Claire could not help but be curious. “The new earl was in Spain, Lady Bollinger?”

  “Yes. He sailed there shortly before the conclusion of the past Season. No doubt he has returned to collect his father’s inheritance and assume the duties of his new title.”

  “I see.” Claire nodded.

  “I must admit that I have always regarded him fondly.” Lady Bollinger gave a small smile. “He is a most charming rogue. But you must warn your sweet daughter to have a caution in his presence, for I fear he is not a gentleman.” Claire’s mouth opened and then quickly closed again. She did not quite dare to ask Lady Bollinger in precisely which way the new Earl of Sommerset was not a gentleman.

  Lady Bollinger leaned close once again. “I fear my dear nephew is not to be trusted in the company of young ladies. Indeed, a dreadful scandal hangs above his head like an evil cloud.”

  Claire glanced at the earl again. Though she knew she was indulging in absu
rdity, she half expected to see a dark haze hovering round his shoulders. “Is this scandal the reason that some call him EL Diablo?”

  “Yes.” Lady Bollinger nodded. “Now that he is earl, none will dare to call him El Diablo to his face, but I am certain he shall still be the subject of more than a few whispered on dits. A scandal of that magnitude shall not easily be forgotten.”

  Claire began to frown. “Please enlighten me, Lady Bollinger. What did the new earl do to cause such a scandal?”

  “You must be told, I suppose.” Lady Bollinger sighed deeply. “If I do not tell you, another of my guests shall be quick to do so and I would rather you learn the truth of the matter from me. I do hope that it will not cause you to change your opinion of our family.”

  “I assure you that it will not.” Claire smiled kindly at Lady Bollinger. “It should be most unusual not to have at least one bounder in a family so large as yours.”

  Lady Bollinger appeared much reassured by this comment and she returned Claire’s smile gratefully. “My husband’s brother took a turn for the worse last year and he sent for his son to attend him. He urged my nephew to take part in the Season, to find a suitable young lady to marry, and to remain in England to manage his estates. But while my dear nephew was here in London, he compromised two young debutantes.”

  Claire’s eyes widened and she bit back a most inappropriate giggle. “Two? At the same time?”

  “Yes. Both were discovered in his town house, hidden in his bedchamber. And though he was not in residence at the time, both young ladies produced notes from him, inviting them there at that precise hour for an assignation.”

  Claire lifted her brows, curious as to why the new earl had gone to the trouble of arranging two assignations that he had not planned to attend. “Tell me, Lady Bollinger, was your nephew considered a desirable catch?”

  “Yes, indeed.” Lady Bollinger nodded quickly. “His inheritance from his mother was immense and it came to him when he reached his majority. As if that were not enough, he was also the sole heir to his father’s title and fortune.”

  Claire permitted a flicker of a smile to cross her face. Lady Bollinger’s answer had borne out her suspicions. “I do believe I can surmise the rest, Lady Bollinger. The mothers discovered the notes that the young ladies had left behind and rushed off to his town house to discover their daughters there?”

  “That is precisely correct! How did you know, Lady Radcliffe? Have you heard this distressing tale before?”

  “No, I have not.” Claire smiled as she shook her head. “But I should not put it past an anxious mama to use every means, fair and foul, to assist her daughter in making such a desirable match.”

  “Oh, surely not, Lady Radcliffe! Why, I am acquainted with one of the mothers and she should never stoop so low as that.”

  “Not even for the opportunity to welcome the earl’s heir into the family? A gentleman who already possessed vast holdings and who should soon be richer than Golden Ball?”

  “Lady Radcliffe!” Lady Bollinger looked askance. “I regard myself as an excellent judge of character and I am certain that this particular lady should never give way to such trickery, not even to save her husband’s estate.”

  “Such an alliance should have been welcome then?”

  “Why, yes. It should have been most welcome in this instance.” Lady Bollinger assumed a thoughtful expression. “Dear Lady Radcliffe, I dislike to view things with a suspicious eye, but now that I think on it, the parents of the other young lady were also in dire financial straits. You do not suppose that...”

  Lady Bollinger stopped speaking as her nephew approached and she quickly assumed her most welcoming smile. “How good to see you, nephew. Had I known that you had arrived in Town, I should have hastened to send you an invitation. You are always most welcome.”

  “Thank you, Aunt Marcella.” The gentleman Claire had come to regard as El Diablo bowed quite formally. Then he noticed Claire’s curious glance and he favored her with a smile. “I do not believe I have had the pleasure.”

  Lady Bollinger wore a look of some concern as she turned to Claire. “Lady Radcliffe, may I present my nephew, the Earl of Sommerset?”

  “I am delighted to meet you, Lady Radcliffe.” The earl gave her a devilish grin. “It is most kind of my aunt to introduce me to the loveliest lady at the ball. Your husband is the most fortunate of men.”

  Claire smiled back, despite herself. Though she was certain he was merely being polite, his comment was most delightful. “I am pleased to make your acquaintance, sir, and I am certain that my late husband would have been gratified to hear your compliment.”

  “Late husband?” The earl’s roguish smile was quickly replaced by a compassionate expression. “My condolences, Lady Radcliffe. No doubt it is difficult to be widowed at such a young age.”

  “It was indeed, and though it was twelve long years ago, I miss him still. I am most fortunate that he left me with the comfort of a lovely daughter. Her name is Willow and she has recently become engaged to your cousin, Philip.”

  “I had heard that Philip was engaged.” The earl’s smile reappeared and he turned to survey the ballroom. “Your daughter is the charming young miss in the golden dress who is preparing to waltz with him?”

  Claire glanced around to see Willow and Philip taking the floor and she nodded quickly. “Yes, that is Willow.”

  “Will you join me in this waltz, Lady Radcliffe?” He raised his brows inquiringly. “When it is concluded, I should be grateful if you would introduce me to your daughter. I am most eager to meet my cousin’s fiancée.”

  Lady Bollinger, who had been scanning the room most anxiously, turned back to address them. “I fear Lady Radcliffe is not free, nephew, as I see Lord Dankworth approaching. Did you not promise him this waltz, Lady Radcliffe?”

  Claire glanced up and saw that Lord Dankworth was striding purposefully in her direction, a most determined expression on his face. Claire had no doubt that Lady Bollinger had gestured for him to rescue her from the clutches of El Diablo, but Claire was not certain that she wished to be saved. Her dear husband had uttered an old maxim in similar situations: From the frying pan into the fire.

  “Lady Radcliffe?”

  The earl smiled as he extended his arm. He was waiting for her answer and Claire came to a hasty decision. If Lord Dankworth was the frying pan, she should much prefer the fire. With great dispatch, she placed her gloved hand on his arm and smiled up at him sweetly. “By all means, sir. I am not yet engaged for this waltz and I should be most delighted to dance it with you.”

  TWO

  Claire gave a small chuckle of amusement as the Earl of Sommerset escorted her to the dance floor. Lord Dankworth had appeared quite dismayed to see her on the earl’s arm and though Claire did not like to be uncharitable, she could not help but rejoice that she had escaped the dour widower’s attentions.

  “You obviously find my company a source of amusement, Lady Radcliffe.” The earl began to grin. “How refreshing that is! Most ladies of your caliber should be mortified to be seen with me.”

  “I am not like most ladies.” Claire smiled as they assumed the correct pose and the earl swept her across the floor. He was a skilled partner and she soon found that she was enjoying their dance most thoroughly.

  “Perhaps you are more charitable than most, but I should not like to take unfair advantage of your good nature.” The earl’s eyes darkened perceptibly. “I know that you are a relative newcomer to the London scene. Is it possible that no one has seen fit to warn you about me?”

  “I have been warned, sir, and I have dismissed it out of hand. I shall dance with whomever I please.”

  “You have courage!” The earl’s smile returned. “Still, you should give a care for your reputation, Lady Radcliffe. If I were a true gentleman and if I were not enjoying our waltz so completely, I should promptly escort you to your daughter in an attempt to still the tongues that are certain to wag when you are observed in my com
pany.”

  Claire giggled. “I fear it’s far too late for that, sir, as the tongues are already wagging. If you doubt my word, you have merely to observe your cousin’s mother, Lady Northrup.”

  “Amelia Northrup has always been a peahen.” The earl laughed. “My father was used to say that she had bewitched poor, stammering Gerald with her charms and revealed herself to be a vain and silly chit only after they had spoken their vows. Still, it is the best he could have done, I imagine, as poor Gerald is missing a few cards in his deck. It never ceases to amaze me that Philip has turned out as well as he has.”

  Claire stared at Lord Sommerset in shock and then she gave a delighted laugh. He had put into voice her own thoughts when she had first met the Marquis and Marchioness of Northrup. Searching for some polite comment to make, Claire settled on the earl’s last statement. At least he appeared to approve of Willow’s fiancé. “You are acquainted with Lord Ralston then?”

  “I am. His land adjoins one of my country estates and he has had the good manners to greet me pleasantly when our paths have crossed. Perhaps he is one of the few who do not believe that I have disgraced myself beyond redemption.”

  Claire nodded. “You refer to the two young ladies who were discovered in your town house last Season?”

  “You know then?” The earl’s eyes widened as she nodded. “And still you agreed to partner me? You are indeed an amazing woman, Lady Radcliffe!”

  “Not so amazing as all that. Any fool could surmise that those silly young misses and their grasping mamas were attempting to manipulate you into an alliance.”

  “You are not only beautiful, you also have good sense.” The earl threw back his head and laughed. “Are you endeavoring to save my reputation, Lady Radcliffe?”

  “Of course not. I have no standing with the ton and such an effort on my part would yield little or no result.”

  “Then why did you agree to join me in this waltz?” Claire hesitated to tell him, but she knew she must be truthful. “I must admit that I am using you, Lord Sommerset.”