While he stood there, towering over her, heat in his eyes and a self-satisfied smile on his face, she said angrily, ‘Don’t you understand that you only make yourself ridiculous by persisting? I’ve already assured you I would not entertain your suit under any circumstances. So act as the gentleman you were born and release me.’
‘But where you are concerned, I can no longer afford to be a gentleman. My creditors are becoming a bit too pressing, you see. But I’m not at all averse to speeding up the process. You’ll be a prize I intend to savour, in addition to all that lovely dowry.’
He leaned down and grabbed her shoulders, trying to force her into his arms. While she struggled to prevent it, he said, ‘Fight if you want, but I’m too strong for you. The next couple that comes around the corner is going to see you in my arms and realise they’ve interrupted a scandalous tryst. Dellamont will bow out, and you will have to marry me.’
He was stronger than she’d expected, his arms longer than the ones she was using to try to push him away. She continued to resist, though, trying to manoeuvre into a position where she might stomp a heel on his instep, since he’d already moved too close for her to get a knee up to slam into his breeches.
He pushed harder, pressing her back until the trimmed ends of the clipped shrubs bit into her back, trying to kiss her as she jerked her face from side to side to avoid his mouth. She was considering how she might succeed in biting him if he managed to get his lips on hers when suddenly, his weight was lifted off her.
‘Dellamont!’ she cried, relief flooding her. Had anyone else come to her aid, news of the episode would quickly have become the subject of gossip—just as Hoddleston had planned.
By the thundercloud expression on Dellamont’s face, it might become the subject of murder. After pulling the Baron away from her, he shoved the man in the opposite direction. Then, facing him, he said, ‘I thought I’d warned you to cease troubling Miss Cranmore.’
‘What Miss Cranmore and I do is none of your concern.’
‘It becomes mine when you persist in paying her attentions she has told you repeatedly she does not want. And punishment becomes my concern when you trespass far beyond the line anyone who calls himself a gentleman should proceed with a lady.’
Before Hoddleston could reply—probably with another snide remark that Marcella was no lady—Crispin slammed a sharp left jab into the Baron’s jaw, followed by a right hook that sent him tumbling to the ground.
‘Need any further persuasion?’ Crispin snarled. ‘This time, hear me well. You are never to approach Miss Cranmore again or by heaven, our next encounter will be much more painful. If you see her walking down the street, you’d better cross to the other side. I’d advise you to concentrate instead on finding the gold you need from some other money pot.’
The Baron pulled himself up from the dust, glaring. Taking a handkerchief from his pocket, he wiped the trickle of blood from the corner of his mouth. ‘You’re going to be sorry you did this, Dellamont.’
‘I’m only sorry I didn’t do it sooner. Might I suggest you quickly repair to your residence before anyone sees you and asks how you acquired that cut lip and swollen jaw?’
‘You may think you’ve won. But this is not over.’ Hoddleston transferred his gaze to Marcella, his expression furious. ‘You’ll pay for it, too.’
She shrank back from the venom in his eyes, doubly glad now that she would soon be back in her own world and safely out of his.
After brushing off his coat, Hoddleston set his hat back on his head and stalked off.
After the Baron had disappeared, Crispin blew out a breath. ‘You are unharmed, I trust?’
‘Y-yes,’ she replied, surprised to find her voice shaky.
Then, to her shock and delight, the Viscount pulled her into his arms. ‘I’m so sorry! I shouldn’t have left you alone. I wouldn’t have, if I’d known Hoddleston was on the grounds.’
Marcella snuggled against his chest, relishing the feeling of being safe and protected even as his nearness set off the usual swooping sensation in her stomach and tingling in her nerves. Determined to enjoy this forbidden embrace to the fullest before she had to bring it to an end, she allowed herself another few precious seconds before she pushed away.
‘Truly, I am fine. You arrived before he succeeded in kissing me, which, if I didn’t manage to bite him to prevent it, probably would have ended the situation anyway. If he’d placed his mouth on mine, I would almost certainly have cast up my accounts all over him.’
Shaking his head at her, Crispin laughed. ‘No screaming or swooning?’
‘I had thought to scream when he first seized me, but that might have attracted the witnesses he needed to be able to successfully compromise me in the eyes of the ton. Not that the idea of scandal bothers me, since I intend to quit their august company soon anyway, and good riddance. But I am grateful you found us first. I wouldn’t have wanted to soil my gown with his blood.’
Crispin studied her for a moment. ‘You truly are remarkable. But I’m confident you won’t need rescuing again. I meant what I told him. If he comes anywhere near, you have only to tell me and I will deal with him. The outcome for him, I promise you, will be even less pretty. Now, are you certain you are recovered? I could take you back to Lady Arlsley with you claiming to feel faint from the sun and ask that she take you home.’
‘I’d only have felt ill if Lord Hoddleston had succeeded in kissing me. I’ve lost my enthusiasm for the maze, though, so I’d like you to escort me back to the terrace, where we can remain well in sight of the other guests.’ After hesitating a minute, she continued, ‘Just in case someone might have seen or overheard something, I don’t wish to make any mention of the...episode.’
‘Understood. I’ll take you back, fix you a plate and fetch some wine. We can sit in one of the tables beside the arbour where the orchestra is playing.’
She nodded agreement, and he walked her back, from time to time pressing her hand, as if wanting to make sure she had truly recovered. After he’d obtained the refreshments he promised, he took a seat beside her, his serious expression telling her he was still concerned, despite her assurances that she was fine.
‘Truly, I’m not upset, so you may cease worrying. My remaining time in society will be short, and even if Lord Hoddleston should decide obtaining my dowry is worth risking your wrath, I don’t think he’d actually attempt to despoil me. As I said, I care nothing for being “compromised”, since the ton’s opinion of me carries no weight in my world. I would prefer that Mr Gilling not learn of Hoddleston’s boorish behaviour. He, like you, might feel compelled to do something about it. The Baron might be no match for you, but I’m not sure how handy Mr Gilling is with his fists.’
‘So you are determined to leave society...in little over a week?’
She nodded, unwilling to put her feelings into words.
How could she explain that she needed to leave before she started longing for more of his embraces? Before her control slipped, and she kissed him again? Before losing the near daily camaraderie they’d been sharing hurt too much?
Before she truly lost her heart to the unattainable Prince Charming?
She couldn’t, of course.
‘I shall have to inform Lady Arlsley soon,’ she said instead. ‘Her ladyship is going to be incredulous that anyone would voluntarily reject the privilege of mingling among the ton’s elite. Incredulous, and perhaps resentful that she was forced to tarnish her good name by having to sponsor my unworthiness.’
‘I thought you said she’d be relieved not to be blamed for finding you an aristocratic husband.’
‘That too.’
He hesitated and she held her breath, wondering what he might say. Express his own sorrow that their glorious bargain would soon end?
But when he did speak, he said only, ‘Make sure I know which final events you will attend. I’l
l warn my mother and make plans to leave London immediately after. Perhaps I’ll escort Mama back to Montwell Glen, so as to better shield her from my father’s...disappointment. Shall we ride again tomorrow? If your time in the ton is about to end, we need to start making plans about how and when we can meet at your father’s office.’
She was foolish to think what they’d shared had shaken his world as much as it had hers. All he treasures is your friendship, she reminded herself.
Despite the hollow feeling in her chest, she nodded. ‘Yes, I’d like that.’
‘Let me bring you another fortifying glass of wine before you depart, then.’
He walked away, Marcella watching as he sought out one of the servants carrying trays of glasses.
Sadness filled the hollow in her chest, even though she knew leaving society was the right choice. The prudent choice. The necessary choice.
She would simply have to savour these last few times he would escort her, partner her for a dance, bring her refreshments while they were both part of the same world, his company a delight it had been all too easy to become accustomed to.
She would become accustomed to its lack, she told herself. She’d turn her focus instead into exploring whether the long-time affection she’d shared with Austin could transform from her girlhood worship and his fondness for a charming child into the mature love necessary between a man and a wife. As his wife, she could at least remain near her family, near her father’s office, once she had to let go the work she loved and take up the domestic duties she’d never wanted.
The excitement of Crispin’s attention, like the course of a shooting star, had been like a brilliant streak of light through the night sky of her life, swift and as swiftly vanishing. Austin was the north star, perhaps not as exciting, but a reliable, guiding presence. Solid and dependable as the rock base of a bridge support designed to carry heavy loads for a lifetime.
Even if the prospect of wedding him no longer thrilled her as much as it once had.
CHAPTER FOURTEEN
The following morning, Marcella rode with her groom through the gates into Hyde Park. With only a handful of days left in her Season, she intended to enjoy every possible activity with Crispin, even riding, though she hoped this one shared venture might be salvaged for...after.
A smile of irony curved her lips. When had she mentally begun dividing up her life into before she left society—and his frequent company—and after?
If they could continue to ride together, it wouldn’t happen again soon. After their bargain ended, he would have to leave London, escorting his mother into the country before taking himself off on that extended trip around England to avoid the wrath of his father.
She’d be riding in the park alone, attended only by her groom, for the foreseeable future.
The sound of hoof beats drew her attention to the entry gates. Her upsurge of delight at seeing him was doubtless magnified by knowing how soon their days together would end. Never, she thought with a sigh, had she imagined when they struck this bargain how dear his presence would become.
Now she was lapsing into melancholy again, something she’d promised herself she would not do.
Putting a determined smile on her face, she wheeled her mount and rode over to greet him. ‘A lovely morning, is it not, my lord? Lady Margaret is not accompanying you today?’
Some emotion passed swiftly over his face, instantly concerning her. ‘What is it? Nothing has happened to her, has it? She’s not ill or injured?’
He gave her a wry smile. ‘Knowing how impulsive and careless she can be, you might well wonder. But no, she is in perfect health.’
‘It’s unusual for her not to ride, especially when she could secure your escort. Your lady mother has her engaged on more important business? Fittings for gowns, or calls to charm society dragons?’
Crispin blew out sigh. ‘I could prevaricate, but I probably should just tell you straight out. Especially since Maggie is so incensed, I wouldn’t put it past her to try to sneak out and contact you on her own.’
With a chill of foreboding, Marcella braced herself for what she feared was coming. ‘Go on,’ she said, her initial excitement at this ride in the park evaporating.
‘Not that we tried to keep our rides together a secret, but we’ve not gone out of our way to advertise them either. I don’t recall noticing anyone in particular the last time we were in the park, but someone did make note of us. Some gentleman, who apparently joked to my father at his club that he must be pretty sure of my capturing your dowry if he was allowing his unmarried daughter to risk her reputation being seen with you.’
‘The Earl was not pleased,’ Marcella said drily.
‘No. He came home in a tearing rage, delivered my mother a thunderous scold that saw her take to her bed, and restricted my sister to her rooms, telling her if she had so little discernment—’ Breaking off, his face colouring, he continued, ‘I expect you can imagine the rest of what he said.’
She’d acknowledged from the first that his family might be happy to get her wealth, but wouldn’t want her ill-bred presence to contaminate their innocent daughter. ‘He railed that if you should somehow fail to secure my hand, and marriage didn’t elevate my position, her association with me could harm your sister’s chances of a successful presentation next year.’
He nodded. ‘That was the gist of it, yes.’
It shouldn’t hurt so much, but it did. She’d come to enjoy the uninhibited, plain-speaking Lady Margaret, to laugh at her verbal excesses, to try to gently recommend that she not pursue some of her more outlandish ideas. To feel that they were...friends.
What an insulting and bitter reminder that however much her money might be sought, his family and his peers would never consider her worthy of associating with them.
Suddenly she was furious—with the Earl, the whole condescending, superior, pampered lot of the ton, and with the man who’d beguiled himself into her affections when his family looked on her with contempt.
How could she have been such a fool?
‘I’m sorry, Marcella. I know you’ve experienced this sort of ill treatment before, but I feel terrible that you are suffering it now at the hands of my own family.’
‘Please, think nothing of it,’ she said icily. ‘It’s only what I expected, after all.’
‘Surely you know I don’t share the Earl’s views! I may have grown up blindly accepting them, I grant you, but I’ve had years of riding the country, meeting and talking in depth with engineers, builders, and craftsmen, most of whom possess more skill than I ever will and many of them more intelligence. No one class has a monopoly on talent, ability or inherent worth.’
‘How enlightened you’ve become. But I must let you go. I don’t believe I will ride in the park after all.’
She wasn’t sure where she meant to go, only that she was too angry, disturbed, and yes, wounded, to tolerate riding where she might encounter any other obnoxious, supremely self-satisfied members of the ton. Nor, until she got her emotions under control, did she wish to go home, where Mary was certain to push and pry, trying to discover what had upset her.
A destination suddenly occurred. ‘We’ll head out the gate at Hyde Park Corner, Thompson,’ she told her groom. Turning to nod at the Viscount, she said, ‘Goodbye, Lord Dellamont.’
She rode off without a backward look—but soon heard the hoof beats of his mount following her. ‘So I’m Dellamont again?’ he said as he caught up to her. ‘I know you’re angry, and I don’t blame you. But please don’t lay this insult at my door.’
She ignored him, stemming back the tears that threatened by running a map of London through her head, trying to determine the best route to reach her chosen destination.
‘Where are you going?’ the Viscount asked after they rode out of the park and turned south, evidently not heading back to her family’s home north of Oxford
Street.
‘Nowhere that would be of interest to a society gentleman. A place where engineers and common people of low birth work. A location that would be beneath the dignity of a viscount to visit.’
‘If you think I’ll allow you to ride off around London with a single groom to attend you just because you’re in tearing rage, you’re mistaken,’ Dellamont countered.
‘Suit yourself,’ she said, determined to ignore him lest her turbulent emotions get the better of her and the threatening tears leak out.
Not sure of the fastest way to proceed, she led the groom from Hyde Park through Green Park and St James’s Park, then threaded her way down to Westminster Bridge.
‘Where exactly are you going?’ Dellamont, who’d silently trailed her thus far, rode up to ask.
‘If you must know, I want to look at the foundations being built for the London & Greenwich Railway,’ she said, her anger beginning to dissipate, although the hurt was still there and she refused to look at him.
‘Ah, yes. I understand the bill for that passed Parliament last year. Quite a project it will be, since the legislators insisted that the entire span must be elevated.’
‘Papa says the viaduct will be more than three miles long when it’s completed, with more than eight hundred brick arches. Mr McIntosh, the engineer in charge, told Papa last winter that he planned to begin construction in February. I want to see how it’s progressing.’
‘Should be interesting. I’ll come with you.’
Marcella shrugged. ‘As you wish.’
* * *
It took them the better part of an hour to weave their way through the busy streets, transiting through Mayfair to Westminster, across the bridge and then through the less crowded roads south of the river to London Bridge. Finally arriving near the building site, Marcella found the area swarming with activity, some workmen unloading bricks from barges, some mixing mortar in large tubs, and others laying the bricks. Forgetting her anger, she pointed towards several immense brick arches that were rising on top of the excavated foundations.
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