‘I found the room...overwarm.’
‘By contrast, it’s rather chilly out here. And you without a wrap! Allow me to offer you...comfort.’
He stepped towards her. She sidestepped away. ‘I’m doing quite well on my own. I just needed a little air. I’ll return to ballroom presently. Please, go back in. I wouldn’t want to keep you.’
‘I might want to keep you,’ he murmured, leaning closer. ‘You’re a pretty little thing, which is a bonus beyond the tidy sum you’ll bring. You might as well take me, you know. You’re not going to get a better offer. Certainly not from someone with a father as discriminating as Dellamont’s.’ He chuckled. ‘Abandoning your partner and flouncing off the floor in the middle of a dance? After that charming little scene, even those in dire need of your blunt will think twice about pursuing you.’
So he’d been watching after all. As if the prospect of being abandoned by the other fortune hunters would make her look more favourably on this one! ‘Kind of you to warn me, but unnecessary. And I must ask you to leave me in peace.’
‘And if I don’t want to?’ he asked, stepping close enough to crowd her against the balustrade as he took her hand.
‘It would create an even more shocking scene if I were to start screaming,’ she retorted, trying to tug her arm free.
Hoddleston laughed. ‘Scream if you like. I doubt anyone will hear you. Even if they should, by then, the damage will be done. Because I am going to kiss you.’
Panic beginning to well up, Marcella was calculating whether she should try gouging his leg with her sharp heel or kneeing him in his nether parts when a voice at her ear made her jump.
‘I believe the lady asked you to leave, Hoddleston.’
Dellamont’s voice. She was so relieved, for the moment, she forgave him for hurting and disappointing her.
‘Lady?’ Hoddleston echoed. ‘I see no ladies here. Just a jumped-up cit’s granddaughter who doesn’t know her place. An opinion you demonstrated you share when you dragged her off the dance floor. Why don’t you just take your leave, then—and leave her handsome dowry to me.’
Marcella gasped as Dellamont whipped out a hand to seize Hoddleston’s lapel and jerk him backwards, away from her. ‘Although I don’t see any other gentlemen present here, save myself, I’d advise you to take your leave before I’m forced to resort to the crude sort of persuasion your behaviour merits. I know you’d be distressed to have that nose bleed all over your oh-so-pristine cravat.’
For a moment, the two men stared at each other, Hoddleston’s face uncertain, as if calculating whether or not the Viscount would make good on his threat, Dellamont’s stony with resolve.
The Baron must have believed him, for he took another step backwards. ‘You threaten fisticuffs on the terrace outside a ball and still call yourself a gentleman? How...ill bred of you. I wouldn’t stoop to that—not for the likes of her. But though your elevated sense of honour might prompt you to intervene now, I’m confident of reaching my goal. The high and mighty future Earl of Comeryn has no intention of aligning himself with a female like this one. In the end, I doubt any other men of breeding will either. I need merely bide my time.’
Glancing over at Marcella, he said, ‘Because, in the end, you will have me.’ Turning from her to the Viscount, with a look full of loathing, he growled, ‘I won’t forget this, Dellamont.’
‘I assure you, neither will I. Are you in need of further encouragement to depart?’
‘I believe I am sufficiently encouraged—about everything.’ Making Marcella an elaborate bow, he said, ‘Goodbye—for the moment, Miss Cranmore.’
Refusing to answer him, she turned her face away, listening for the sound of his footsteps fading.
She looked back up to see Dellamont watching Hoddleston, his alert vigilance not relaxing until the Baron disappeared back into ballroom. Then he turned to her.
‘Are you all right, Miss Cranmore? He didn’t harm you?’
She shook her head, shaken and close to tears again now that the unpleasant interlude was over. ‘He threatened me with his attentions. Insulted me. Though in that regard, hardly more than most of the guests tonight.’
Since he’d been kind enough to get rid of Hoddleston, she didn’t add Like you did, too.
To her surprise, he said it instead. ‘As I did? Please, let me apologise. I had no right to be indignant with you for doing what every female must do—marry, and marry as well as she can. As you said in Bristol, a woman has little alternative. You’d already told me your mother had been pressing you to make a good match. It was just...’
‘I’d assured you I didn’t want to marry into the aristocracy, and yet there I was? The Factory Heiress!’ She spat out the term bitterly.
‘I can hardly complain. I assured you I’d never marry for money either, yet here I am.’
‘Did your family coerce you as well?’
Dellamont sighed. ‘My father. Having heard about the arrival of a fabulously wealthy heiress and with the estate in need of cash, the Earl decided it was my duty to win and marry her. I have cash in hand if the estate needs it, but far be it for a d’Aubignon to accept money made in trade!’
‘Although it is perfectly acceptable to marry it?’
‘It makes no sense, I agree. The thing is, the Earl never allows my mother to spend the Season in London, and she does so love it. He would only allow her to stay if I agreed to go about in society, supposedly to court the Factory Heiress. Of course, I had no intention of actually doing that, but hoped agreeing would buy my mother some time to enjoy the city before Comeryn figured it out, delivered me a lecture, and dragged Mother back to Montwell Glen. I had no idea the “Factory Heiress” would be you.’
‘When we met in Bristol, I had no idea it was going to be me, either,’ she said wryly. ‘I didn’t discover until I returned to London that Sir Thomas, my mother’s father, had made me his heir. Or that he’d accepted the baronetcy solely to help make my mother’s fantasy of having me marry into the aristocracy come true. Grandda told me then that he’d arranged—manoeuvred is more accurate—to have a well-born lady introduce me. I hated the idea, but both Mama and Grandda begged me to go along. When even my father added his urging to theirs...
‘Like you with your mother, I just couldn’t refuse. But Father did agree that if I found the experience truly awful, he’d intervene to get me out of it. I’m going to try to make it for a month, but on nights like tonight—’ she shuddered as she recalled the repellent confidence of Hoddleston, the cold contemptuous gazes of the people in the ballroom ‘—I’m not sure I can stand a whole month! I can’t wait to get back to that engineering office!’
Dellamont laughed. ‘I promised Mother I’d stick it out as long as I could, too. Or until my father realised he’d been hoodwinked and that I’d had no intention from the first of courting anyone. He lectures me frequently, but I suspect the rant I’ll be subjected to on that occasion will be the most blistering ever. But it will be worth it, to let Mama enjoy town for a few weeks.’
Marcella sighed. ‘The things we endure for family. But... I’m awfully glad to find I was mistaken about you tonight. That you really are the gentleman you appeared to be in Bristol.’
‘As I am glad to confirm that you are truly the unusual lady I met in an engineer’s office. But now, I’d better return you to the ballroom before you freeze.’
‘Not that it will make much difference. As Hoddleston obligingly pointed out, after the “charming scene” I created by fleeing the dance floor, no one else is likely to want to stand up with me tonight. Maybe I can induce Lady Arlsley to let me go home.’
Marcella shook her head. ‘I tried to tell her from the first that I was no more happy about the idea of going into society than she was at being saddled with presenting me. Of course, she didn’t believe me. How could any female not be eager to join her precious exclusive lit
tle circle? But we made an uneasy truce. If she would not condescend to me or deliberately expose me to insult, I would endeavour not to embarrass her. I’m afraid my behaviour tonight didn’t live up to that bargain.’
Dellamont had been walking her in, but at that, he halted. ‘What if we were to make a bargain?’
‘A bargain?’ she repeated, angling a glance up at him. ‘What do you mean?’
‘Neither of us want to be here, wasting our time idling around a society in which neither of us has any interest. What if we join forces? It would placate my father and allow my mother to enjoy the maximum amount of time in London if the Earl hears I’m spending time with the Heiress. While your chaperon will be pleased that a gentleman of good reputation and family is paying attention to you. I enjoy your company and would like to know you better—as a friend. At the least, I can keep reprobates like Hoddleston away from you.’
‘Friends? To chat and dance together at the balls and routs I’m forced to attend? That would be wonderful!’ she cried, energised by a vision of replacing the miserable evenings she was expecting with the delight of his company. With the one man in London who truly knew who she was and found her unique and interesting.
‘Then, after a month or so, I can break off the relationship and go back where I belong. It will show Mama and Grandda that I made an effort—as you can show your father. We can then tell them we discovered we would not suit. It would be perfect!’
‘It might be better if you let me break it off, rather than have you look like a jilt. I’ll be thought a bounder, but no matter. I’m not interested in marrying soon anyway. I’m quite certain that once duty forces me to it, with the lure of a countess’s coronet beckoning eligible females and their mamas will forgive me the lapse.’
Marcella shook her head. ‘I’d not have you badly thought of. What do I care if society thinks me a jilt? Most already believe that, with my low birth, I possess no breeding. Once I make my escape, I devoutly hope never to encounter any of these people again, whereas they comprise the society you were born into, the one in which you will always move. Much better to let me break it off.’
‘We can argue about that later. But for now...do we have a bargain?’
‘For a month or so...we’ll make what would otherwise be an ordeal much more pleasant for us both?’
‘Exactly,’ he confirmed.
‘Then we have a bargain.’ She held out a hand—and felt a little shiver go through her as he shook it.
‘Back to the ballroom for you now. I’ll tell Lady Arlsley that you became faint on the dance floor and needed some time alone to revive yourself on the terrace. That I waited to escort you back in.’
‘But I told her I was going to the ladies’ retiring room.’
‘I’ll tell her I intercepted you and recommended the terrace. It’s cooler and more private, after all.’
‘You think she’ll believe that?’
Dellamont smiled. ‘I can be quite persuasive. Especially if I request the honour of calling on you tomorrow.’
‘She’ll certainly be relieved to discover that I didn’t give you a disgust of me after all,’ Marcella said.
But not nearly as relieved as she was, Marcella thought as she put her hand on Dellamont’s arm. She’d be able to continue seeing him—even if that might not be wise.
With him acting as that knight in shining armour in truth, it might be hard to keep her foolish feminine heart from fluttering.
Very well, she wouldn’t deny that she was looking forward to enjoying his very attractive attentions—for a time. But he belonged to a society of which she wanted no part. Not that he would want her, either, for more than a temporary friendship. She was probably the least likely woman in England to make a proper countess.
No, this partnership would be as short-lived as she expected it would be pleasant. After which, she would return to her world—hopefully to exchange the escort of this knight in shining armour for that of her childhood hero Gilling—while he remained in his.
Two planets in different orbits, never to meet again.
Shaking off the sadness that thought evoked, she put a determined smile on her face and walked back into the ballroom on Dellamont’s arm, looking forward with amusement to hearing the farradiddle he would spin to placate Lady Arlsley for her absence.
CHAPTER SIX
The following afternoon during calling hours, Marcella found herself seated in Lady Arlsley’s parlour. The handful of gentlemen she’d danced with the evening before would make courtesy calls, making her attendance mandatory, her sponsor had informed her.
Although there was only one of last night’s partners she really hoped to see. After having a night to think over the implications of their bargain, would Viscount Dellamont still want to follow through with it?
So far, she’d endured the attentions of two suitors, while several of Lady Arlsley’s friends had called. After giving her a strictly proper greeting, two of those ladies were now settled on the sofa beside her sponsor, their heads together as they spoke in low tones. Their occasional glances in her direction told her that she—and last night’s ball—were probably the topics of conversation.
The erstwhile suitors having departed after the obligatory fifteen minutes, Marcella wandered around the parlour, pausing to stare out the window on to the side garden. After Dellamont had left her last night, she’d been convinced he would honour his word, their bargain, and call today. But as she tossed and turned last night, anxiety keeping her from sleep, she’d begun to doubt that.
Having fulfilled his father’s wishes by submitting to the required introductions, it would be much easier—and likely pleasanter—to continue the charade with the Earl by turning his attentions to some well-born girl of adequate dowry. There would be no need to single himself out and possibly invite criticism, branding himself as a fortune hunter by seeming to court her.
He’d disappointed her once. She told herself not to hope for too much, lest she be disappointed again.
The butler entered, bowing to introduce two newcomers, and her pulses leapt. Only to immediately settle as she recognised first Lord Charles, the foppish youngest son of a marquess. A few minutes of conversation last night been enough to demonstrate he possessed neither money nor sense. Following him was Lord Hoddleston.
Instinctive dislike had the hairs on the back of her neck rising. Giving her a knowing look, he walked over to pay his respects to Lady Arlsley and her friends on sofa. Then, while she steeled herself to endure him, with Lord Charles in tow, he walked in her direction.
‘Miss Cranmore. How lovely you look this afternoon,’ Lord Hoddleston said, bowing to her reluctant curtsy.
‘Radiant as a daffodil in spring,’ Lord Charles enthused.
‘She’d need to be wearing a yellow gown to warrant that description,’ Hoddleston said sardonically. ‘In that pink confection, she’s more like a vibrant tulip. Which inspires me to resume the conversation that was so rudely interrupted last night.’
‘I didn’t think anything more needed to be said,’ Marcella replied, wishing she could be rude enough to ask him to leave.
‘On the contrary, there’s quite a bit. We were on the terrace, you’ll remember. Alone.’
Was he trying to imply she’d agreed to meet him there—or hint she’d been compromised? she wondered, her irritation intensifying. ‘Ah, yes, now I remember. I’d gone out for some fresh air and encountered you briefly on my way back in. Lord Charles,’ she said, turning to the Marquess’s son, ‘you began telling me last night about the horse you’d been thinking of buying at Tattersall’s?’
‘Ah, the horse. Yes.’ Looking uncomfortable under Lord Hoddleston’s scornful gaze, which clearly said the Baron thought him of little account, he tugged at his neckcloth, but resisted the inclination to cut and run. ‘A fine bay. Sixteen hands. Broad chest, fine withers. Looks to be a capital
riding hack. Just have to convince m’father put out the blunt.’
Hoping to lure him into talking longer, she said, ‘You will keep him for riding, or will he pull a carriage as well?’
Looking shocked, Lord Charles said, ‘Oh, no, Miss Cranmore! One never puts a riding horse between the shafts! They’re not bred nor trained for it. He’d be used solely for riding. Make quite a stir in the Park. He’s a high-stepper, very showy.’
Hoddleston leaned in to murmur in her ear, ‘You can take cover behind idiots like Lord Charles but you can’t hide. After he bumbles off, I’ll still be here—your inescapable destiny.’
Stepping back, she waved away his words, thinking if he were truly her destiny, she’d garrotte herself.
Before she could try to prod Lord Charles into further conversation, a stir at the doorway claimed their attention. ‘Lord Dellamont,’ the butler announced.
A wave of relief and delight ran through her. He’d called, just as he promised!
She had to suppress a smile as she watched the Viscount make full use of his entry to create a dramatic moment. After pausing on the threshold to survey the company, he proceeded slowly across the room, doubtless well aware of the ladies’ admiring and the men’s resentful gazes fixed on him, to make a courtly bow to the hostess and her friends.
‘Ladies, a pleasure! I couldn’t wait to see you again today, Lady Arlsley, and visit with your delightful charge. She promised to show me your garden, which I understand is superior. If I might claim her?’
Her gratified chaperon gave him her most gracious smile. ‘Of course, Dellamont. As long as her maid accompanies you.’
‘Thank you, my lady. I’m sure the garden will be as charming as the company.’
After giving her chaperon another bow, Dellamont turned to walk in her direction, the winning smile on his lips making her pulses pound with pleasure and anticipation. Ignoring both of the men beside her, he halted to say, ‘I’ve come to hold you to your word, Miss Cranmore.’
Harlequin Historical July 2021--Box Set 1 of 2 Page 30