Unconventional Suitors 02 - Her Unconventional Hero

by Ginny Hartman

  Walking into the breakfast room, she saw the footman removing two used place settings and knew she must have missed Aunt Tabitha and Katherine. She grabbed an apple out of a bowl of fruit on the sideboard before leaving to go find her family.

  She was surprised to find them in the foyer, dressed as if they were about to go out.

  “Good morning, Adel.” Katherine greeted her with a smile. “I was hoping you would awake in time to go with us. It is not like you to sleep so long.”

  Adel was nearly as surprised as her sister was, for she couldn’t remember the last time she arose after the sun. “Where are you off to?”

  “We are going to Bond Street to do some shopping,” Aunt Tabitha offered. “We can certainly wait for you to get ready if you would care to join us.”

  Adel hesitated for a moment before daring to say, “I actually had my hopes set on visiting Rose today. Do you mind?”

  “Do you wish us to go with you?”

  “That will not be necessary. I would hate to ruin your plans.”

  “Very well,” said Aunt Tabitha as she tightened the laces of her bonnet under her chin. “Give Rose our regards; we best be off.”

  As soon as they were gone, Adel rushed up to her bedchamber and instructed her maid to fetch her pelisse. When the girl had disappeared to do as she was told, Adel slid the stash of bank notes she had hidden in her enamel carved jewelry box out and quickly stuffed them inside her reticule. It wasn’t an enormous amount by any means, but it was something.

  Adel hadn’t second guessed her plans to visit Rose until she was standing before her door, reaching for the worn brass knocker. What if she had come at a bad time? What if Rose did not welcome her company? Pushing her doubts aside, she let the knocker fall, clanking loudly against the wooden door.

  Just like the first time they had visited, the door, when it finally opened, only did so a crack and out slipped Rose’s frail hand, pulling Adel in with a surprising strength. When the door was securely locked behind them, Rose turned to her with a smile and said, “Lady Adel, I am so glad to see you again. Thank you for coming. May I take your pelisse for you?”

  “Not at all,” Adel responded as she shrugged out of her pelisse and laid it on the scratched mahogany bench by the door. There was no way she would relegate Rose to the role of a servant in her own home. “I wasn’t sure if this was a good time to visit, but I longed to come and thank you once more for the beautiful lettercase you gifted me.”

  Rose led her into the drawing room. “It was an honor, truly it was. I would rather it be in your possession than collecting dust in my trunk.”

  Adel sat demurely on the settee as Rose took her seat across from her. Nervously she reached inside of her reticule, her hand tightening around the roll of money. She took a steadying breath before pulling it out and thrusting her hand towards Rose. “I also wanted to bring you this.”

  Rose started at her hand, a look of confusion marring her delicate face. “What is that?” she asked, not attempting to take the offered gift.

  “It is some extra money I had. I wanted to give it to you.” Adel looked into Rose’s eyes but couldn’t tell what the girl was thinking. She walked over to where she was sitting and extended her hand so that it was within reach. “Take it, please.”

  Rose averted her eyes. “I cannot accept your pin money, however kind it is of you to offer.”

  “I assure you that it is not my pin money. I have sufficient for my needs and wished to give this to someone who was in greater need of it than I. I hope you will not be offended by my offer, but I felt as if I should come and give it to you, though I’m not entirely sure why.”

  Rose’s voice shook with emotion, and perhaps embarrassment. “I cannot accept it.”

  “Nonsense, you can and you will,” Adel said as she lifted Rose’s hand and forced it into her palm. “Consider it payment for the lettercase if you must assuage your pride.”

  “I will not do that, for that was a gift. I did not expect payment for it.” Rose tried to hand the money back to Adel but she ignored the girl and returned to her seat on the settee.

  “Then let this be my gift to you.”

  Adel watched as desire warred with pride before Rose finally said, “Thank you for your generosity. I shouldn’t accept it but the good Lord knows I could use it. My husband has refused to pay my lady’s maid her dues for months now. Bless her heart for staying on as my maid without any compensation, but I know she could desperately use the funds. I wouldn’t mind the loss of a maid so much as I dread the thought of losing her companionship. She has become a dear friend, my only friend really.”

  “Well I am your friend now too, and I refuse to allow that to happen. Rose, why don’t you tell your brother about such things? I know he would be more than happy to assist you with whatever it is you are in need of.”

  “It is so humiliating,” she acknowledged as her bottom lip trembled. “Besides, it is my husband’s duty to take care of me, not his.”

  “But your husband is failing miserably at his duty,” she pointed out as if it weren’t obvious.

  “No one knows that more than I, but he refuses to let Griffin help. It’s his way of punishing me, I believe.”

  Adel’s eyes widened. “Why would he want to punish you?”

  “Because I cannot provide him with an heir. I have been with child five times, and each time it has ended with loss. He blames me, as if it is my fault that my body cannot carry a baby past a few month’s time.”

  “That is absurd,” Adel spit out angrily, hate for the baron welling up within her.

  Rose shrugged. “Yes, but that’s how things are with my husband. Sometimes I wish he were dead. Is that horrible of me?”

  “Not at all,” Adel said vehemently. “I would rather be fated to spinsterhood than to be wed to such a monster.”

  “It is almost humorous to me how women think spinsterhood is a fate worse than death. Clearly they do not know that marriage can be far worse.”

  “But it doesn’t have to be, does it?” Adel asked hopefully, her romantic childhood dreams of marrying a dashing and noble prince coming back to her at once.

  “I like to believe that some married people are happy, though I must confess I do not have any examples of such wedded bliss in my life. My parents were miserable, though perhaps not as miserable as I. What about your parents, are they happy?”

  “They were very much so,” she answered sadly. “My mother’s death ripped my father’s heart to shreds. She was his world, and he was hers. Sometimes I ask myself if it is worth loving someone so much, if it will just break your heart in the end.”

  “I imagine it would be infinitely more satisfying to know that kind of love, even if it is only for a short spell, than to be forced to live a life void of it completely. It sends me into a fit of the blue devils to realize that the opportunity for love has been lost to me and that I’ll most likely die alone and unloved.”

  Sadness engulfed Adel at the girl’s bleak future. Oh how she wished there was some way to change it for her.

  “I always warn my brother,” Adel snapped out of her reverie at the mention of Lord Straton, “that he better marry for love and for no other reason if he wishes to truly be happy.”

  Adel thought back to Lord Straton’s proposal with grand confusion. Why wouldn’t he heed his sister’s sad warning when her life was a tragic example of what could happen if he didn’t? Her anger multiplied the longer she thought about it, giving her a sudden desire to chastise him until he understood how foolish he had been.

  “Rose, where is your brother’s townhouse located?”

  Rose looked abashed by the sudden change in conversation, but thankfully didn’t question Adel. “It is located in Mayfair, number 11 Chesterfield Street.”

  “Thank you,” Adel said as she committed the address to memory and rose. “I fear I have overstayed my welcome, but I would very much like to call on you another day if that is to your liking.”

  “
Very much so.” Rose stood as well. “And thank you for the money. You are truly an angel in disguise.”

  Adel wasn’t sure about that, for at that moment she felt anything but angelic. Her driver gave her a skeptical look when she instructed him to deliver her to Chesterfield Street, but wisely kept his opinions to himself.

  It was like night and day going from Rose’s pathetic townhouse to Lord Straton’s opulent one. His butler let her in without question, showing her to a tastefully decorated drawing room. The burgundy and gold Oriental rug complimented the burgundy striped wallpaper to perfection. The furniture had been chosen with an expert eye and looked as comfortable as it did elegant. She chose to sit in a cream colored wing-backed chair while she waited for Lord Straton, hoping he wouldn’t be long, for every minute that passed her anger only grew.

  ***

  Griffin looked up from the stack of correspondence he was sorting through when his butler entered his study. He waited patiently to hear what the man wanted.

  “You have a visitor, my lord. Lady Adel Desmond is waiting for you in the drawing room.”

  Griffin perked up, quickly rising as he straightened his jacket. What in the devil was the chit up to? His curiosity fully piqued, he hurried to the drawing room where she awaited. Griffin nearly gasped when he rounded the corner and entered the room. Lady Adel was sitting primly in the ivory wing-backed chair that sat next to his favorite blue one, a dainty table the only thing separating them. She looked as if she belonged in the room, in his house, in his life, and his heartbeat accelerated as his breathing became shallow.

  “Lady Adel, to what do I owe this pleasant surprise?” he forced his voice to sound even.

  Her eyes turned at the sound of his voice, flashing emerald that made him wonder what was amiss. “How could you?” she seethed between gritted teeth.

  Griffin was taken aback. “How could I? You must forgive me, my lady, for I am unsure of what it is you are referring to.”

  He watched as she rose from her chair, looking as regal as the Queen herself, though much more beautiful in his opinion. Her hands where clamped tightly around her reticule, making him wonder if she were actually going to throw the blasted thing at him. His thoughts drifted back to the not so distant past when Benedict’s mother, the dowager countess of Danford had bravely thrown a teacake at his chest. He couldn’t help but chuckle at the memory, though by the tightening of Lady Adel’s lips, he could tell that it was the wrong thing for him to do.

  “What is so funny, my lord? Do you find my anger amusing?”

  “Not at all. I actually believed for a moment that you were getting ready to throw your reticule at me, which reminded me of the time Lord Danford’s mother threw a teacake at my chest. That memory is what amused me so. Please forgive me.”

  She looked at him strangely. “Why ever would she do such a thing?”

  “It’s a long story,” he sighed, unwilling to divulge the details.

  “You probably deserved it,” she snapped at him.

  “You are correct.”

  “You do have a penchant for doing foolish things. How could you, Griffin?” she asked him once more. He was still as confused by her question the second time around.

  He stepped forward and reached for her, hoping to soften her anger, but she shook her head vehemently and stepped away. “I don’t understand you.”

  Griffin threw his hands up in the air in exasperation. “Blast it all, woman. Quit skirting around the issue and tell me what I have done to cause your anger. I am at a total loss as to what I did wrong, and your vagueness is not helping matters.”

  “Why did you ask me to marry you?” she enunciated each word slowly as if he were a half-wit.

  Rubbing his hands over his face, he sighed irritably. “I thought we had moved on from that, that we had agreed to be friends. Why the sudden anger now?”

  “You don’t love me.”

  His heart softened at her admission. “Sweetheart, is that what this is all about? Do you want a declaration of love from me? If I confess that I love you, will you accept my proposal?”

  Her face softened for the briefest of moments before she quickly shook it off. Stalking towards him, she waved her finger angrily at him. “Your sister is the most miserable person I have ever met. Her marriage is unhappy, to say the least, and she has given up all hope of ever being loved. She told me just today how she is always warning you to marry for love, lest you end up in a situation similar to hers. Are you blind to her misery? Do you not see the pain she is forced to endure in her loveless marriage? Why do you wish that same fate upon yourself?”

  “Are you comparing yourself to her husband? Do you think a union between us would result in the same misery and abuse? I am positive that you would never be as heartless as Lord Moncreif, and I assure you that I would never treat you the way that he treats my sister. Never. Do you believe that I would?”

  Griffin was relieved when her anger momentarily abated. “No, I do not believe that of you. But you would be cheating yourself to marry without love. Why would you do that, why would you thwart your own chance for happiness, and mine?”

  Griffin wasn’t sure how to answer her. He stalked past her, his back rigid as he stared out the window without seeing a blasted thing before him. Should he tell her the truth?

  He struggled internally as he weighed the decision to tell Lady Adel the truth or not. It surprised him how intensely he desired to be honest with her, but it scared him to think that once she learned the truth she might hate him forever.

  Turning from the window he met her eyes, though he didn’t draw closer. “I’m a horrible person,” he stated matter-of-factly. “I hope you can forgive what I am about to tell you, for it does not cast me in the best light.” Taking a deep breath, he forced himself to continue, knowing if he didn’t he’d lose his courage completely. “I proposed to you because I lost a bet.”

  Adel felt her knees beginning to buckle at his admission. Thankfully she was close to the chair, which she promptly fell into. “You proposed to me because you lost a bet?” she asked, her voice shaking with unbelief.

  Griffin cringed at the sadness behind her words. He took large steps to come before her, dropping to his knees in front of her as he clasped her hands. She flinched at his touch and tried to pull away but he held her firm. “Please hear me out. I feel as if I owe it to you to reveal everything.”

  He took her silence as approval to continue. “When Benedict, whom you know as Lord Danford, returned to England I issued him a wager, merely for amusement purposes. Lord Dawkins, Mr. Graham, and I thought it would be highly entertaining to watch him parade around society disguised as an unfashionable buffoon. To make the wager even more diverting, we told him that he would have to get the lady of our choosing to fall in love with him and agree to wed him by the seasons end. We picked Lady Gillian, hoping that he would never be able to woo a diamond of the first water.”

  Adel swallowed down her disgust as she listened to his words. “Lord Danford made a cake of himself at your request? Does his wife know that she was only the object of a bet, nothing more?”

  “She knows everything now. But despite their obstacles, and our efforts to prevent it, the two truly did fall in love, utterly and completely.”

  “I just cannot believe what I am hearing. Why would you do that to your friend? I do not find it amusing in the least that you would challenge a good friend to play with a lady’s heart in such a spiteful way. And why would you do that to me?”

  Griffin had to look away from her face, feeling like the worst sort of cad. Looking down at their hands laying atop her skirts he said, “Warren, Marcus, and I lost the bet. Benedict and Gillian fell in love despite his appearance. When we issued the bet, Benedict made us agree to one stipulation—that if he won, he would be allowed to choose our wives in return.”

  A strangled gasp escaped Adel’s throat. She pulled her hands angrily from his and this time he released them. Griffin gasped in surprise as her hand m
et his cheek with a resounding thwack. He knew he deserved it, but that didn’t take away the sting.

  “Lord Danford chose me to be your wife,” she stated rather than asked. “I have been nothing more to you than a pawn in your sick game. Tell me, is my name listed in the betting books at White’s? Is every so called gentleman of the ton anxiously awaiting the results so they can collect? You have made a fool of me.”

  “Adel, please. It’s not like that, I promise. No one is aware of it besides Benedict, Marcus, Warren and I.

  “And Lady Danford?” she spat at him, her eyes scrunched together in angry slits.

  “And Lady Danford,” he reluctantly admitted. “But it will not go any further than that, I assure you.”

  “That’s where you are wrong, my lord, so completely and foolishly wrong.” She no longer spoke in the sad, shaky voice that had threatened to break his heart; instead her words were cold and calculated.

  “What do you mean?” he asked with trepidation.

  “Lord Straton, I too have secrets of my own. Have you ever read Mrs. Tiddlyswan’s gossip column in The Morning Post?”

  Griffin startled, “Yes, but what does that have to do with any of this?”

  Her back straightened, her chin tilted defiantly, and her eyes flashed with a hatred that seared his soul. “I am Mrs. Tiddlyswan. I have been penning that column since the season began. You can mark my words that I will be using it to expose your sly, underhanded ways. By the time I am done with you, you will feel even more foolish than I do right now.”

  Griffin reeled back in shock. “No, that can’t be true.”

  “I assure you that it is.”

  “You were the one who wrote about Benedict’s guffaws? The one who exposed Lady Grace for blackmailing Lord Crestin?” Adel nodded. “How could you do that?”

  Pushing him away, she rose from her chair, looking down at him as she hissed, “I suppose it’s no more heartless than what you have done, now is it?”