Besides which, honesty forced him to admit, spending time with the enticing Miss Cranmore wasn’t a hardship either. Good thing his dread of marriage was great enough to overcome even the temptation she provided.
Lady Comeryn turned her smile on her son when she spotted him walking over. ‘Taking a break from the dancing, my dear? If so, will you escort me to get a glass of punch?’
She must want to talk, Crispin thought as he bent to kiss her cheek. So despite the fact that he’d just finished a glass, he replied, ‘Of course, Mama. If these ladies will excuse you?’
‘We’ll deal you out of the next hand, Lady Comeryn,’ her friend Lady Randolph said. ‘Have a pleasant chat.’
Crispin smiled as his mother took his arm and he walked her out. ‘They’ll be waiting breathlessly, hoping to glean some news when you return.’
‘Naturally. As I would be in their places. Have you any news for me to glean?’
‘Only that I am pleased to see you enjoying yourself tonight, which hardly counts as “news”.’
‘I am indeed enjoying myself! And cannot thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to stay in London. I trust you haven’t found society...too odious?’
‘No. But I do limit my participation.’
By now they’d reached the refreshment room, and conversation halted while he obtained her a glass of punch. After she’d thanked him and taken a sip, she hesitated for a moment before saying, ‘What do you think of the Heiress? I’ve heard that you stood up with her for a waltz tonight. And that you’ve called on her and gone riding with her—Maggie told me the last.’
‘My, the London gossips are busy, aren’t they?’ Crispin said, a little irritated, though not surprised, that his movements were being tracked so closely.
‘Your father stopped by my sitting room this morning to commend my help in introducing you to her. He was so pleased he even increased my clothing allowance! I’ll be able to order some new gowns after all.’
Though this demonstration of the stranglehold his father kept over his mother angered him further—new gowns should not be parcelled out as reward for earning his approval—Crispin managed to keep his voice light. ‘As you so richly deserve, and I know you will look charming in them. How did Father find out? I assume you hadn’t discussed anything with him.’
‘Oh, no, I hadn’t spoken with him since he instructed me to find a way to introduce you. He heard about it at his club, I would imagine. I know you men accuse us ladies of being terrible gossips, but truly, men are much worse.’
Aside from dining on occasion, Crispin didn’t spend much time at clubs, but he’d played enough hands of cards within their exclusive walls over the years not to dispute his mother’s allegation.
‘You are probably right.’
After a pause, his mother added, ‘Apparently the wagers at the clubs favour you to win her hand.’
Crispin grimaced. He didn’t regret his bargain with Miss Cranmore, but somehow having their relationship reduced to a crass wager offended him.
‘I hope Father doesn’t bet on me.’
‘Do you...not like her?’
‘I don’t like any female enough to contemplate marriage,’ he retorted. ‘But that avowal is for your ears alone. I intend to continue calling on and dancing with her, eking out the time as long as possible so you can enjoy London.’
‘I’ve already had nearly ten days of entertainments, which is far more than I am usually allowed. But if you are continuing your attentions to Miss Cranmore solely to buy time for me...you can begin backing away. As I’ve pointed out, your attentions have been particular enough to prompt wagers in the betting books. Not that Miss Cranmore has any relations of sufficient status to discover that, but it’s still not kind to raise expectations you know won’t be fulfilled. Your eventual abandonment will expose her to malicious gossip, even if it doesn’t break her heart.’
‘Because though she isn’t of “sufficient status”, she still has feelings?’ he asked with asperity.
‘Of course she does. And if she has any sensibility at all, how could she not fall in love with my handsome son, if he gave her any encouragement? I’d not have her wounded just so I can enjoy London.’
His irritation that his mother seemed to share the condescension of her class softened. His mother knew more than most about being wounded.
‘You needn’t worry. We understand each other. Her father is a railway engineer, by the way. It gives us something to talk about.’
‘So you do like her, then?’
At the hopeful note in her voice, Crispin immediately regretted saying anything. ‘Don’t be weaving plans, Mama.’
‘You know I wouldn’t!’ she protested. ‘I’d just like to see you wed eventually to someone whose company you could enjoy. My marriage to your father...hasn’t provided the best example of matrimony. There are couples who do much better. Who deal congenially with each other, even seek to make their spouse happy. I would wish that sort of match for you.’
Pretty much any marriage would be an improvement on his parents’. But he didn’t mean to wound his mother by agreeing. So he said instead, ‘I’m not interested in exploring those unknown waters yet. Nor is there any need. Father is going strong, and I’m sure will be fully capable of overseeing Montwell Glen for the foreseeable future.’
After sipping her punch, his mother gave him a little smile. ‘I wouldn’t mind having some grandchildren sooner, though.
‘My older sister has already fulfilled that requirement.’
‘Yes, but those aren’t your children.’
‘I expect to have some eventually—it’s my duty as the heir, after all. But I intend to ensure my present happiness continues by delaying that blessed event until the last possible moment. Now, having offered you refreshment and as much news as can be had, I’ll escort you back to your friends.’
‘Very well, no more marital advice from one hardly qualified to offer it. Just remember that your happiness matters to me more than anything else. Don’t continue the social round solely for my sake. And please don’t continue it long enough to engage the feelings of an innocent girl just to gratify me.’
‘I shall be very careful to do neither.’
‘Then I shall be content.’
* * *
After depositing his mother back in the card room, Crispin made his way back to the ballroom, where he observed Miss Cranmore once again dancing with Lord Charles.
Would they both be able to continue this charade for as long as a month? And might Marcella Cranmore actually be in danger of falling for him?
After considering that gratifying possibility for a moment, he dismissed it. His mother was naturally prejudiced about the strength of his appeal to women, and Miss Cranmore seemed quite set on enticing her engineer. Nor would he wish to have her develop feelings for him warmer than the friendship he felt for her.
Friendship underpinned by a layer of desire that was a good bit warmer, he admitted. A sensual attraction that she felt as well. Since he was older, well aware of how insidiously passion could overcome prudence, it was his responsibility to avoid letting the physical pull simmering between them result in a lapse that would catapult them into a marriage neither wanted.
A duty he needed to keep uppermost in mind when in her tantalising proximity.
CHAPTER NINE
Two evenings later, Marcella scanned the room at the Dellaneys’ musicale from her seat next to Lady Arlsley. Several young ladies had already performed on the pianoforte, and another was presently doing a fair job singing a ballad, accompanied on the piano by one of her beaux.
Lord Hoddleston had arrived earlier, spotted her at once and come over to offer his compliments. Under Lady Arlsley’s insistent gaze, she was forced to respond cordially and acknowledge that she would soon be performing herself. But since she’d taken the precaution
of steering her sponsor to seats in a section that was already fully occupied, Hoddleston was not able to ruin her enjoyment of the ensuing musical selections by taking a chair nearby.
He seemed to have sensed she’d deliberately arranged that situation. As he took his leave before the next number began, he leaned closer to murmur, ‘You can’t escape me, you know. I will catch up with you later.’
She gave him no answer, which only deepened his smile and her annoyance. Honestly, she thought as she recalled his sardonic expression, she wasn’t the only well-dowered maiden on the Marriage Mart this Season. She would have thought, with his ancient lineage and her pointed lack of enthusiasm, he would by now have turned his efforts to a more promising object. What sort of man persisted in paying his attentions to a woman who clearly didn’t want them?
Someone who wanted to subdue and dominate, probably, she thought, pressing her lips together. That observation made her even more determined to avoid his company. If he gave any sign of trying to coerce her, she would cut him dead whether her sponsor agreed or not.
The singer concluded her selection to a smattering of applause. As this performance was the last before an intermission, newcomers were then admitted. With a stir of delight, Marcella recognised Dellamont among them.
What a fine figure he always cut! she thought, watching admiringly as he walked in. With that handsome face and commanding presence even more striking in his black evening wear, she wasn’t surprised that the gazes of all the unmarried ladies—and quite a few of the married ones—followed him as he walked across room.
She had to admit, her own pulse beat a little faster as he approached. Trying to calm the flutter, she told herself to remember she was the focus of his flattering attentions only because of their bargain. Otherwise, he’d have already quit society, or be appeasing his father by dangling after some female of his own class.
A reminder she would do well to heed. As he halted beside her chair and she felt the energising force of his presence in every nerve, it could otherwise be too easy to get carried away, risking both her heart and her virtue.
Surely she was too level-headed for that. Forcing the flutter in her stomach to still, she rose with Lady Arlsley to greet him.
‘Good evening, ladies!’ he said, bowing to their curtsies. ‘Have you been enjoying the music?’
‘Very much,’ Lady Arlsley replied. ‘It has been quite superior. Which is impressive, considering all the performers have been young ladies just out.’
‘All superior, and they so young? Amazing,’ he said. Though Lady Arlsley seemed not to notice the irony in his tone, Marcella had to choke back a laugh. ‘I understand this set has just concluded. Might I escort you ladies for some refreshment?’
‘A friend has just arrived with whom I must speak before the next set begins,’ Lady Arlsley replied. ‘But I’m sure Miss Cranmore would enjoy partaking of the repast Lady Dellaney set out.’
Marcella shook her head at Dellamont as she took his arm, trying to ignore the little shiver that went through her at his touch. ‘My charming sponsor. As lacking in subtlety as ever.’
‘Now, now. She probably does have a friend just arrived with whom she wishes to speak.’
‘Doubtless on a matter of such urgency, it could not wait for a glass of punch. But she’d probably go speak with the potted fern in the corner if it meant she could send me off with you. And you shouldn’t disparage tonight’s performances. They have been so surprisingly good, I’m quite impressed. Obviously some aristocratic maidens practise much harder than the students at Miss Axminster’s did.’
‘Or more likely, only those who have achieved a reasonable level of skill are permitted by their mamas to perform in society. So, are you going to favour the company with a selection?’
‘In the next set,’ Marcella replied with a nod.
‘We’d better make sure you are well refreshed, then.’ They stopped by the table in the dining room, which was set with a variety of dishes. ‘Would you like a glass of wine? A plateful of the assorted offerings?’
‘Nothing to eat, thank you. We dined before we came. But a glass of wine would be welcome.’
‘I see Hoddleston is here tonight,’ Dellamont said as he handed her a glass. ‘He hasn’t been bothering you, has he?’
‘No—not yet, at any rate. He stopped by to greet us after he arrived, but as I’d made sure there were no vacant seats near us, I was spared making further conversation.’
Marcella debated relating Hoddleston’s parting remark, but decided against it. Though she appreciated Dellamont’s offer to watch over her, she needed to be able to take care of herself. He was unlikely to be present every time the Baron found an opportunity to approach her. And it was her challenge to master anyway.
‘No Lord Charles?’
Marcella laughed. ‘He called this afternoon and enquired which event we’d be attending tonight. Upon learning it would be a musicale, he positively blanched. Then apologised for not being able to bear attending, years of being forced to listen to the “screeching sopranos and out-of-tune melodies of his sisters” having given him a permanent distaste of musical evenings. He promised to meet me at the next ball we attend.’
‘With your common love of riding, I’m surprised he hasn’t asked to accompany you to the park.’
She hesitated, but she might as well tell him. ‘He has, actually. But mindful of your warning, I turned him down. If he is becoming enamoured, it wouldn’t do to indulge in an activity that would likely feed his infatuation.’ She chuckled. ‘I told him that I am promised to ride with a lady friend each morning, which is our only time to put our heads together for a good gossip, and I was sure he wouldn’t want to listen in. The prospect made him almost as pale as the idea of listening to a screeching soprano.’
Dellamont chuckled as well. ‘I suppose you can be pardoned your little white lie in a good cause.’
‘It wasn’t exactly a lie. I have met your sister each morning, not by design. But not entirely by chance, either, I don’t think. I believe she’s been lying in wait for me, eager to pepper me with questions about the events I attend, what the ladies and gentlemen are wearing, what they talk about, whether I find the entertainments interesting. Knowing I will tell her the unvarnished truth, as she suspects her acquaintances do not. But I do enjoy her company. One never knows what she will say!’
‘She’s outrageous, for certain,’ Dellamont said with a sigh. ‘I pity her eventual husband.’
‘I only hope she is able to marry a man who will appreciate her. I shall enjoy her company while I can. She seems so enthusiastic about the prospect of our marrying, I will have to jilt you, else she will be furious with you. Although she will then be furious with me for slighting her beloved brother.’
‘Don’t worry about her sending her maid to poison your soup. I’ll placate her by telling her about our bargain—once it’s over. Since one can never know what she will say, I wouldn’t trust her not to natter on to someone about what a great joke we are playing on society if I were to tell her about it now.’
‘I hope she will be amused. I wouldn’t want her to think I didn’t like and highly esteem you.’
As she delivered that assessment, Marcella glanced up at Dellamont. His compelling dark eyes seem to draw her in, as if she’d moved physically closer. Planting her feet to resist that impulse, she felt a tingling awareness shiver over her skin.
How easy it would be to be drawn in! So easy, if this conversation were taking place in a secluded nook, rather than in the middle of a refreshment room full of people, to take that step closer. So hard to resist raising her lips for the kiss his molten gaze seemed to promise.
If they were to find themselves in that dark nook some time in future, dare she invite that kiss? In defiance of prudence and caution, she was becoming less and less sure she could end their bargain without having tasted the kiss she
found herself craving more and more.
But if she wanted to salvage a friendship once their bargain was over, she couldn’t allow herself to stumble down that path.
Seeming as captivated as she was, for a long moment Dellamont simply gazed at her. Then he abruptly stepped away, turning towards the table and seizing a plate. ‘I’m pleased to know you esteem me, as I do you,’ he said, his tone light. ‘I shall sample a bit of this while you finish your wine. Which you should do rather quickly. The guests are beginning to move back into the music room. Your time to shine approaches.’
She was glad that he’d defused the moment—before she let her unruly senses lead her any farther astray. Silently scolding herself for forgetting this was only a temporary bargain, she said tartly, ‘If I shine, it will be whispered that I perform like a hired musician—evidence of my inferior birth. If I stumble, heads will shake knowingly and observe how my inferior skill reflects my lack of breeding.’
Dellamont shook his head. ‘You truly are a cynic! So what’s it to be? Shine or stumble?’
‘Shine, for certain. I wouldn’t give them the satisfaction of performing badly.’ She chuckled. ‘Although those whose only interest is my dowry wouldn’t care if I lost the rhythm and played every note wrong.’
Putting down his plate and taking her empty glass, Dellamont said, ‘Then go show up the maidens of Miss Axminster’s.’
* * *
Half an hour later, after the guests had settled back in their chairs and one other young lady had performed a halting rendition of a Mozart concerto, Lady Arlsley rose to introduce Marcella as she walked to the pianoforte. She was arranging her music, running over the melody in her head, when a shadow fell over the keyboard.
‘That Beethoven is quite a complicated selection, Miss Cranmore,’ Lord Hoddleston said. ‘You must allow me to turn the pages for you.’
Instinctive dislike making it difficult for her to keep her tone cordial, she replied, ‘Kind of you to offer, but I’m quite accustomed to turning pages on my own. I would find it distracting to have someone hovering nearby.’
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