Mary waved at Miss Edgeworth as she passed by in a carriage with her two cousins. It appeared all of the upper crust in London had decided a little bit of sun was a fine reason to visit the park. Their driver turned to the right and continued on in a circle which would eventually lead them out of the park.
“Mary!” Mary shielded her eyes from the sun with her hand as a young lady waved frantically at her. She sat atop a horse with a gentleman alongside her. They both turned their animals and headed in her direction.
As the couple grew closer, she recognized Jeanette. “Oh, that is my friend, Miss Belkin.” A smile broke out on her face at seeing her friend once again. Jeanette and her companion maneuvered their horses around a few carriages until they were near to them.
“Mary. I can’t believe we meet again.” She turned to the man with her and said, “This is my closest friend from childhood, Lady Mary Lacey.”
The man removed his hat and smiled at her, and immediately all the air left Mary’s lungs. As she stared at him, blood raced from her head to her toes, leaving her lightheaded. Black dots appeared at the side of her eyes, and she blinked rapidly. She told herself to take a deep breath, but her body didn’t respond.
“Lady Mary?” From a distance she heard Redgrave speak to her, but her mouth wouldn’t work.
Chapter Six
Redgrave eyed Lady Mary with concern. Ever since her friend had approached, Lady Mary seemed to be in a trance. But not a delightful one. Her eyes had grown wide, her breathing shallow, and her face was a pasty white.
“Are you all right, Lady Mary?” He studied her as she gulped for air and wiped a bit of perspiration from her upper lip.
She shook her head and seemed to come back from wherever it was she’d been. “Yes.” She offered a weak smile in the direction of the couple.
“Mary, I would like to introduce my betrothed, Lord Claremont.” The young lady smiled warmly at the man at her side, but he stared at Lady Mary with a smirk, and in a way that was tightening Redgrave’s stomach muscles and had him clenching his fists. Something was amiss here. Lady Mary was decidedly uncomfortable, and he would bet his favorite horse that Lord Claremont was the cause.
“How do you do, my lord.” Mary spoke softly, almost in a whisper, barely moving her lips.
“Very well, Lady Mary. And yourself?”
“Fine.” She turned toward Redgrave, her expression pleading. For what, he didn’t know, but he knew instinctively she needed rescue.
Surprised by her lack of manners in not introducing her friend to him and Her Grace, he took things in hand. “My lady, I believe you mentioned an appointment you were late for?” Redgrave moved his horse in between the carriage and Lord Claremont, blocking the man’s view of Lady Mary.
“Yes.” She licked her lips. “Yes. You are correct, my lord. I am indeed late for an appointment.” Attempting another smile, she said, “It was wonderful seeing you again, Jeanette. My regards to your father.”
“Move it,” Redgrave said to Lady Mary’s driver. The duchess eyed Lady Mary with concern and took her hand in hers as the carriage moved forward.
Redgrave rode alongside the carriage until they reached the end of the park. Lady Mary seemed to have recovered her color, but still twisted her hands in her lap and appeared to shake as if taken with a sudden chill.
He was loath to leave her, but accompanying her to Manchester House was out of the question. “I will be on my way now, ladies.” He tipped his hat and regarded Lady Mary.
She closed her eyes briefly and offered him a wan smile. “Thank you.”
He wanted to say so much more, but this was not the time or place. Nor, in reality, was it his right to question her, anyway. He had no solid reason, but he still felt the need to return to the park and plant a facer on Lord Claremont. With a nod in her sister-in-law’s direction, he said, “Your Grace,” and rode off.
Still baffled when he returned to his townhouse, he entered the library and poured himself a glass of whiskey. After sipping for a while, staring out the window, and no closer to understanding what had happened at the park, he settled in his chair and reached for the correspondence on his desk.
The third letter in the pile was from his former father-in-law, Lord Rumbold.
I desire your attendance immediately.
Rumbold
So like the man. No courtesy, no manners, just a demand for Redgrave’s presence. Thinking it was best to get it over with, he finished his drink and asked for his carriage to be brought around.
He hadn’t seen Rumbold since Priscilla’s funeral. Not that he’d seen him much before that, either. Rumbold led a life of mistresses, gambling, drinking, and other gentlemanly pursuits in London, and Redgrave had stayed at Redgrave Manor, miles from London, the entire length of his marriage and mourning period.
Redgrave alighted from the carriage and climbed the steps, dropping the knocker on the front door. A young butler answered, looking down his nose. “Yes?”
“Lord Redgrave to see Rumbold.”
The door opened wider and Redgrave entered. The last time he’d been in this house was the night his life had turned to hell. He shuddered, remembering the scene.
Rumbold’s face grew a deep red, spittle forming in the corner of his mouth. “You will marry my daughter. She is with child and it is yours.”
“I never touched her, my lord. She is lying.”
Rumbold drew his arm back and slammed his fist into Redgrave’s chin. “My daughter does not lie.”
Priscilla sat on the settee, a handkerchief dabbing her swollen eyes. The mark on her cheek had him wondering if her father hadn’t rough-handled her before his arrival. She viewed him with teary eyes. “How can you say that? You told me you loved me and that we would marry.”
Redgrave gritted his teeth. “I am betrothed to Lady Abigail. Our wedding is in a mere two weeks. You know I never touched you, Priscilla. Stop this game. It is not at all amusing.”
Rumbold sat and opened the middle drawer of his desk. He withdrew a stack of bills and placed them in front of him. “You will take my carriage to Gretna Green tonight. You will be married, and what you do about Lady Abigail is your problem, not mine.”
“And if I refuse?”
The man sat back in his chair and regarded him. “How anxious to marry you would Lady Abigail be if rumors reached her ears that you got my daughter with child and refused to do the honorable thing? The sister of a duke?”
“You would ruin your daughter’s reputation in order to ruin mine?”
“Her reputation is already ruined.” He shoved the bills over. “The carriage has been brought around. It is time to leave and do the right thing.”
Rumbold rose, then strode across the room, turning before he opened the door. “Just for your own information, Redgrave, both my footman and driver are well armed. They will see you to Gretna Green and married. What the two of you do after that is no concern of mine.”
Since that night, he’d thought of many ways he could have gotten out of that predicament. Starting with storming out of the house and going to Manchester to lay out the problem. Of course, once he’d gotten to know the ruthlessness of the man, he wouldn’t have been surprised if Rumbold had shot him in the back as he left the room.
“My lord, his lordship will see you now.”
Redgrave entered the room, his muscles tightening as he was awash in memories. Rumbold sat at his desk, writing in a ledger book, ignoring his entrance. He’d learned Rumbold’s method of intimidation was allowing the other person to speak first. He who talks first, loses. Redgrave remained silent.
Apparently, this summons was of great importance to Rumbold because he eventually laid down his pen and glared at him. “Sit down.”
Feeling rebellious, Redgrave didn’t move. “I don’t plan to stay long. I can continue standing.” Another ploy. The person standing has power over the person sitting.
“I said sit. I didn’t invite you here to play games.” Rumbold growled.
Redgrave slouched in his chair, resting one booted foot over his bent knee. “What is it you want, Rumbold? I see no reason for us to have anything to do with each other.”
“Is that right?” The man sat back, crossing his arms over his chest. “As far as I’m concerned, this will be our last meeting. I have no use for you anymore, Redgrave. You served your purpose four years ago.”
“Then why summon me? Certainly you haven’t missed my company.”
Rumbold slammed his fist on the desk. “I had a visit today from Bittner, one of the men involved in my investment. It seems he had a conversation with you, and you attempted to dissuade him from reaping the benefits of my endeavor.”
Redgrave snorted. “Anything you are involved in is suspicious, at best.”
The man stood and leaned over his desk. “If I find you have talked to anyone else about my diamond mine, I will ruin you.”
Redgrave brushed at invisible lint from his lapel. “I believe you did this once before, Rumbold. I paid the price, but I intend to no longer bow to your wishes. There isn’t anything you can do that will make things worse than they were when your daughter and I took off for Gretna Green two weeks before my wedding to my legitimate betrothed.”
A sly smile came over the man’s face, raising alarms. He probably should not have challenged Rumbold. The man was vicious and could probably wreak havoc with his life, if pushed.
“I understand you’re in London to seek another wife.”
Redgrave continued to stare at him, his lips tight. He would give no quarter to this man.
Rumbold tapped his pen on his desk. “I wonder how successful your search would be if word got out that my daughter was most unhappy in her marriage because her husband preferred the company and attentions of young boys?”
Redgrave shot out of his chair as if booted from behind. “You wouldn’t dare,” he growled.
“Try me.”
The man had won again. Not only would his chances for a wife be shattered if this got about, he would never be able to return to London. For all intents and purposes, he would have to leave the country.
How he wished he could throw the man’s threat in his face. Walk out with his head high and principles intact. But at this point, he couldn’t afford to have Rumbold’s vicious lies bandied about.
Swallowing the bile that rose up the back of his throat, he straightened his jacket. “No one will hear words from my lips that threaten your endeavor, my lord.” Bowing, he turned on his heel and strode across the room.
“Close the door on your way out.”
…
“Are you sure you are all right, Mary? You still appear shaken. What happened?” Penelope placed her arm around Mary’s shoulders as they walked up the stairs to their bedchambers.
“Nothing to concern yourself with. Truly. My courses started this morning, and I sometimes experience weak spells like that.” Hopefully, Penelope would believe her lie. She did not want to explain. All she wanted to do was lie down with a cold cloth.
Lord Claremont. I thought he was on the Continent. Frankly, I had hoped he was dead.
At one time his hard good looks, wavy hair, and heavy-lidded eyes had set her heart to thumping. How would she go on for the rest of the Season with him betrothed to her closest friend?
Jeanette.
She was going to marry the cad!
Mary rang for her maid, and after having her corset and gown removed and a wet, cool cloth for her head, she climbed onto her bed and closed her eyes. Claremont’s face kept appearing, his smirk making her stomach roil until, exhausted from the strain of the day, she drifted off to a troubled sleep.
“Are you certain you want to attend the dinner party? Penelope said you had a spell this afternoon during your ride through Hyde Park.” The dowager duchess placed her palm on Mary’s head and looked into her eyes.
“I am fine, Mother. ’Twas just my courses.”
Her mother frowned. “I’ve never known you to have a spell during your courses.”
Mary smiled and hugged her mother. “Despite what you believe, you don’t know everything about me.”
“All right, then let us leave.” She stopped and glanced up the stairs. “Maybe I should stay with Penelope?”
Mary sighed. “Penelope is fine. She’s had her dinner, she’s tucked into bed with one of her monstrous botany tomes, and Drake will be home later this evening. You worry too much.”
“I love my children.” The dowager smoothed back her hair, and they left the house.
The ride to the Breckenridge townhouse took about fifteen minutes. Enough time for Mary to work herself into a frenzy about Claremont. What would she do if he was there? She couldn’t give him the cut direct without raising eyebrows and suspicions. On the other hand, Jeanette said she had just arrived from the country, and the invitations to tonight’s dinner had been delivered weeks ago. Had Claremont been in the country with her?
How in heaven’s name had Jeanette ever managed to become engaged to the man? By the time the carriage arrived at the Breckenridge home, Mary’s insides were twisted into a knot.
“You are very quiet this evening. Are you sure you are feeling well?”
“Mother, please,” Mary snapped. Then she took a deep breath. “I am sorry. But I am feeling just fine. Please don’t spend the entire evening staring at me, waiting for me to collapse into a heap at your feet.” She attempted to cushion her words with a smile.
They entered the house, giving their wraps to the butler who escorted them upstairs to the sitting room where the guests had gathered. Mary quickly glanced around the room, breathing a sigh of relief when neither Jeanette nor Claremont were present. Across the room, Redgrave leaned against the wall speaking with Lord Montrose.
Her mother grabbed her wrist and leaned toward her ear. “Isn’t that Redgrave with Montrose?”
“Yes.”
Her lips tightened. “I shan’t speak with him.”
“You won’t need to. From what I understand, he is looking for a wife. I am sure he will be busy chatting and flirting with all the young ladies.”
“Your Grace, welcome.” Lady Breckenridge floated across the room, her hands extended, taking the dowager’s hands in hers. “I am so glad you are here. It has been much too long since we’ve been together.”
“I agree, Lady Breckenridge. I miss our afternoon card games. I have been busy with Manchester’s wife, who is having a difficult confinement.”
“Oh, I hope the dear girl’s babe arrives soon.” Lady Breckenridge took Mary and her mother aside. “I am sorry for having invited Redgrave. I don’t know what I was thinking.”
The dowager raised her chin. “It is not important, my dear. All of that is far behind us, now. Lady Abigail is quite happy and settled with Mr. Fox. They are the parents of charming twin boys. Lovely lads, whom I am far overdue in visiting.”
“You are too gracious, Duchess.”
Mary snuck a glance at the object of their conversation, who chatted with Miss Stoneridge, hanging onto his every word. Silly little thing, and much too young for Redgrave.
He turned to say something to Montrose and looked across the room at her. Immediately, he gave her a slow smile and a slight bow. She hated the small thrill of excitement that shot through her. Miss Stoneridge tapped him on his arm with her fan, and he returned his attention to her.
It was just as well he would be busy tonight forming attachments, considering the young ladies present whom he might select for his bride. It was no concern of hers. She had no interest in the man. All of this silly attraction would fade with time.
“Dinner is served.” A servant stood at the entrance to the room. The guests gathered, Lord Breckenridge escorting Mary’s mother, as the highest ranking woman present. The rest of the guests fell into line, with Lord Montrose escorting her.
Little cards had been placed at the table, and Montrose helped her find her seat. She was seated more than halfway down, with Montrose on one side, a
nd Redgrave on her other side. Her mother, at the far end of the table, busy speaking with Lady and Lord Breckenridge, paid no attention as Redgrave leaned close and said, “I am quite interested to know what happened at the park this afternoon.”
Mary tried to quell the unease she knew flitted across her face. She attempted to distract him by offering a bright smile. “Good evening, my lord. It is nice to see you once again.”
“Mary.” He spoke quietly, drawing her name out, his brows raised. Hopefully, no one else noticed he used such a familiar form of address.
She nodded her thanks to the footman who filled her wine glass. “Nothing happened. I had a moment of weakness. I recovered quite nicely, well before I reached home.”
He grinned. “I am willing to bet you have never had a moment of weakness in your life.”
Not true, my lord. Not true at all. My moment of weakness was disastrous.
She’d paid the price for her stupidity. Days of tears, pacing in her room, wringing her hands. Why had she thought Claremont was an honorable man when he’d proven to be just the opposite? Once he’d left for the Continent, Mary had relaxed for the first time in weeks. Now he was back, and so were her fears. She certainly hadn’t liked the way he’d looked at her when they’d met in the park.
Redgrave took a sip of his wine and continued to study her over the top of his glass as her thoughts wandered. He was a very perceptive man. She had to be careful to keep her face expressionless, or he would begin badgering her.
Not that he had any right to do so. They had declared a truce, and she had agreed to work with him for the benefit of the orphans. She owed him nothing else.
“My lord.” Miss Stoneridge, on his other side, tapped his arm with her fan. She had used that method to gain his attention so many times this evening Mary was sure he was tempted to snatch the thing from her hand and snap it in two.
“Yes, Miss Stoneridge.”
As the girl prattled on about ball gowns and ribbons, Mary turned her attention to Montrose, a much more comfortable dinner partner. He didn’t study her as if she were a bug under a glass and didn’t question her about things she could never reveal and were best forgotten.
The Earl's Return (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Page 6