by Amelia Grey
If they came to an agreement, she would have to find a way to be Lord Stonehurst’s fiancée and also continue her search for Sarah’s Prince Charming, too. The viscount’s return had effectively ended her efforts of slipping her fingers down the neckcloths of the young men, but she couldn’t give up the search. She’d been through too many on her list already. Besides, there was an unscrupulous scoundrel in the ton, and right now he could be seducing another young woman and leaving her to ruination.
Mirabella turned to her father. “All right. The engagement will stand, but I need time to get to know him, Papa. We’ve only just met. I can’t marry him right away.”
“Don’t wait too long, Daughter. You might have plenty of time, but I don’t. Now, you run along and send up Newton. I want to send a note to the earl and find out why he hasn’t notified me of his son’s return.”
“Wait on that, Papa. I’m sure it’s because Lord Stonehurst took some perverse pleasure in astounding me last evening. Give the earl a day or two to notify you. I’m sure he will be in touch.”
She had to give herself time to speak to the viscount again. To tell him she would accept his proposal, assuming it was still offered. She wasn’t fond of the idea of now going to him with the same request he presented her. She had turned him down and now he could very well turn her down.
“What time is Archer coming to escort you tonight?”
“The usual time of half past eight, but I think I’ll skip the parties tonight. I’ve been out every night for more than a week. I’m very tired.”
“That’s a good idea. I was going to suggest it. I think the next time you go out it should be on the arm of your fiancé. The ton needs to know that the viscount has returned for you.”
“Yes,” she whispered, hurting because she was deceiving the man she most loved. “Would you like me to ask Uncle Archer to come up and see you when he arrives?”
“Yes, do tell him. This is a great day, Mirabella. Splendid.”
“Very well. I’ll see you after dinner.”
Mirabella walked directly into her room and sat down at her writing desk. She had to immediately send a note to Lord Stonehurst and ask to see him right away. Her breath quickened. Merciful heavens, now that she’d made her decision to accept Lord Stonehurst’s offer, she found she was looking forward to seeing the handsome viscount again.
She would talk to Uncle Archer tonight before he went to see her father. No doubt he’d be pleased to hear her news.
***
Camden wasn’t in the mood to face his family with Miss Whittingham’s rejection so fresh on his mind. He decided to stop in at his club for a stout drink and time to brood. Damnation! Miss Whittingham was the one who had behaved improperly, and she was refusing to help him. Now that he had time to think on it, that young lady had some nerve.
It served her right to have her name bandied about in the gaming halls of London. Gone were his thoughts of trying to get her to change her mind. He was through with her. How could he have had such dastardly luck with women twice? He was also through trying to find a respectable woman to marry. He’d do far better looking into getting an agreeable mistress.
He shifted in his chair and felt the weight of the jewelry box in his coat pocket. He had selected the emeralds because they had reminded him of Mirabella’s sparking eyes. Why did he find her so elusive?
“Camden, I thought I saw you walk in. Here, I took the liberty of having you a drink poured,” Albert Farebrother, the new Earl of Glenbrighton said as he walked over to where Camden had sat in a far corner of the darkened room.
So much for being alone. Camden looked up at his old friend and knew immediately he hadn’t come just to talk over old times. The hand that held the drink out to him shook.
Camden took the glass as sounds of laughter, loud talking and billiard balls smacking into one another drifted in from the room behind him.
“That was intuitive of you, Albert. I take it you want to join me.”
“Do you mind?”
“Not at all,” Camden said and took the drink his friend offered him. Something told Camden it didn’t matter if he did mind. Albert was already taking the chair beside him. If Camden was going to brood over Mirabella’s answer it wouldn’t be at the club.
Albert clinked his glass against Camden’s and said, “Welcome home, old chap.”
“Thank you.”
Albert settled into the carved mahogany, tapestry covered armchair beside Camden. “So tell me, how was America?”
“Big. Lots of land in that country. Pleasant weather, good people and growing rapidly from all I could tell.”
“You stayed away a long time. You must have enjoyed it.”
“Yes. You need to make the journey yourself one day.”
“I plan to,” Albert said with no enthusiasm for the subject. “When my son is old enough to travel.”
Albert held his drink in one hand and played with his fancily tied cravat with the other. Camden noticed the gold signet ring he wore claiming to all the world that he was Earl of Glenbrighton. The man was damned nervous for some reason.
“You know, it might be a good thing you decided to come back when you did,” Albert said. “There has been talk that you had given up claim to your title and your bride. The rumor was that you planned to stay in America with your jealous mistress.”
Camden chuckled. “There never was a mistress in America. Beautiful women, to be sure. Plenty to keep me satisfied. A mistress? No. Pure gossip from tongues of people who have nothing better to do.”
“Ah—speaking of gossip.” Albert downed the rest of his drink and motioned for the server to bring him another glass. “I don’t know quite how to mention this, but I think it needs to be said.”
Camden didn’t hesitate. “Out with it.”
He cleared his throat and nervously fingered his cravat again. “There have been some unpleasant remarks going around the club. Perhaps your brother had wind of the rumor and told you about it.”
“Hudson doesn’t engage in gossip.”
“Then perhaps I shouldn’t, either.”
Camden smiled indulgently at Albert. “No, please, now that you’ve started please continue. I rather enjoy hearing about these things that have never happened.” Deciding to be deliberately dull-witted and further disconcert Albert, Camden said, “As you just said there have been numerous rumors about me. To which one specifically are you referring?”
Albert looked into his empty glass before meeting Camden’s stare. “I’m afraid this one is not about you. It’s about your fiancée. I thought you should know that there has been talk about Miss Whittingham.”
Before Albert had said her complete name, Camden knew he didn’t want Albert or anyone else saying anything about Mirabella. He had thought the young bachelors he’d overheard a couple of nights ago were talking about Mirabella. Now he was sure of it.
He didn’t understand his need to stand up for her. Maybe it was because he sensed there was more going on than what she admitted. Maybe it was because he had stayed away so long. If she had allowed a kiss or two, maybe it was his fault for not returning in a timely fashion. Certainly it was none of the ton’s concern.
Camden wasn’t going to make it easy for his friend. He’d make Albert spell it out for him. Then he’d know exactly what kind of rumors and gossip he was dealing with.
“Talk about her? I should think so. She’s an extraordinarily beautiful woman. As you and I know, most men like to talk about lovely ladies who are not within their reach. Makes the gossip all the more exciting, doesn’t it?”
“Well—ah—this was not about her beauty, which, of course, she is lovely. I should like nothing more than to spare you the details, but if what I’ve heard is true, recently she has been less than circumspect in your absence. I’m afraid it has just begun to make the rounds.”
Camden sipped his drink and willed his brows not to knit in anger. He let the burning liquor slowly slide down his throat and settle in hi
s stomach.
“Unflattering gossip about Miss Whittingham?” he asked. “Are you sure?”
“Quite sure. I wouldn’t mention it otherwise. Not pleasant news to come home to, I know. But the rumor is that she has allowed certain gentlemen to walk with her in the garden.”
“I assume this hasn’t hit the Society papers.”
“No, I don’t think so. But you know it’s only a matter of time before someone speaks to the right, or should I say the wrong, person.”
“I know Miss Whittingham would be crushed to hear of any gossip about her. I’ll try to see that doesn’t happen. Just because I delay a few years returning home, the gossipmongers think they can ruin her reputation. I won’t let it happen. The devil be damned. Is there no one else to talk about this Season, or is it because I’ve been gone so long the ton considered her fair game?”
Albert stirred in his chair uncomfortably. Camden enjoyed making Albert squirm. Knowing Miss Whittingham and her independent nature, she probably wouldn’t even appreciate that he was trying to help her. In fact, he was sure of it. She would tell him in no uncertain terms that she knew what she was doing, and that she didn’t need him to speak up for her.
“I’m not sure. Plenty of gossip to go around the ton from what I’ve heard. And I’m certainly not assuming any of the things I’ve heard about Miss Whittingham are true.”
“I should think not,” Camden said in disgust. “What rubbish the young bachelors spread about innocents these days. By the sound of things, I came home just in time to put a stop to this vilification. Please tell any and all who may approach you that Miss Whittingham is a lady with spotless character and above reproach.”
Albert took the glass from the server, nervous as a cat in a room full of dogs. “You’re certain of this?”
“Most certainly. I trust her implicitly,” he said, knowing that couldn’t be further from the truth. Mirabella had given him ample reason to not trust her, but there was no way he was going to let Albert know that.
“I think you might be a bit too accepting, Stonehurst, considering you’ve been gone for six years and considering your past with your first fiancée.”
Past indeed. Maybe that was the reason he was defending Miss Whittingham so staunchly. He’d had one woman make a fool out of him in front of all Society. He’d be damned if he’d let another. If there was any way he could quell the rumors, he was going to do it.
Camden remained calm. “Talk was bound to happen. I stayed away too long. I can see that now. Miss Whittingham has told me she has flirted and danced with many gentlemen of the ton while I’ve been away. I’m perfectly fine with this, I assure you.”
“I trust your judgment, Stonehurst. I’ll say nothing more on the subject.”
“Thank you. If you hear any more such gossip smearing her good name, I know I can trust you to set the gossipmongers right immediately.”
Albert was obviously stunned by Camden’s reaction and didn’t speak right away.
“Can’t I?” Camden demanded, more forcibly than he should.
“Yes, by all means you can count on me, Camden. Oh, look. There’s Sir Billingsly. I’m to have a round of billiards with him. Would you excuse me?”
“Of course.”
“I must run now, Camden. I’ll see you by the by.” He rose and gave Camden a good-natured pat on his upper arm. “And welcome back.”
As soon as Albert had his back turned Camden downed his drink, emptying the glass. He must be the biggest of fools. The devil take him. What was he doing defending a woman who so obviously didn’t want it? She didn’t want any part of him, and didn’t deserve his protection. Mirabella had made it quite clear her reputation didn’t matter.
Damnation. It wasn’t so much that he didn’t want anyone knowing he’d been fooled by yet another young lady. He didn’t want anyone speaking ill of Mirabella. And he believed her when she said she had had no hope of his return. But how many young gentlemen had she kissed?
And what about her father? Did it matter to her if he knew she was being talked about in a way that would keep her from making a suitable match?
Blast it! Was he smitten by her?
Maybe he should try one more time to reason with her before he told his parents he had failed to win Miss Whittingham over. At this point he had nothing to lose. He was defending her anyway.
He remembered her words when he’d foolishly kissed her. I feel as if I haven’t ever been kissed before you.
Those words had washed over him like warm water on a cold day. He remembered how easily her lips melted against his and how soft she felt pressed against his chest. He liked looking at the sparkle in her green eyes. He even liked the way she stood up to him and forced him to shoulder some of the blame for the situation she found herself in.
No, God help him, he wasn’t ready to give up on Miss Mirabella Whittingham.
Seven
“Lord Stonehurst, thank you for coming so quickly,” Mirabella said as the viscount handed his hat, gloves and overcoat to a servant.
Concern showed in his eyes. “How could I not? I had just arrived home when I received your message saying that it was urgent you speak to me before I talked to my father about our discussion.”
“Yes.” Mirabella paused and waited until the servant left the foyer before she continued. “It wasn’t my intention to worry you.”
“More intrigued, I would say.”
“No doubt.”
“You were adamant at the end of our last conversation.”
She caught her bottom lip for a moment. “Let’s go into the drawing room where we’ll have more privacy. It’s late for tea. Would you care for something stronger?”
“Do I need it to fortify me for what you are about to say?”
An amused smile played on his lips and in his eyes. It took her aback for a moment. Did he think this a game? “I believe you are flirting with me, sir.”
“Perhaps I am.”
So he wasn’t too angry with her for rejecting his proposal. “That’s very kind of you after the way I’ve treated you.”
“I’ve been dealt worse and lived through it.”
“I’m sure that’s true.”
“So, do I need that drink?”
Her tense mood lightened. How could she stay serious when he had such a delightful twinkle in his eyes? It certainly wasn’t there when he’d left her earlier that day.
She responded to his question by saying, “I believe you might want a shot of something, Lord Stonehurst. I’m thinking of asking you to remain engaged to me for a time.”
“Then by all means let me have a drink.”
Mirabella should have been nervous, but she wasn’t as she led him into the drawing room. She had hoped to be done with him but her father’s reaction to the viscount’s return had left her no choice but to ask him to do what he had suggested and renew their engagement.
“Shall I pour?” he asked.
“Please do.”
“How about you? Care for a sherry?”
“No, thank you. I’m fortified enough.”
Camden picked up the crystal decanter and poured, barely covering the bottom of the glass with the dark liquor. Obviously he didn’t need liquor to give him courage. That pleased her.
“If you will sit down, I’ll get right to the point. I don’t want to take up any more of your time than necessary.”
He remained standing by the sideboard and let his dark brown gaze sweep down her face. A tingle of awareness pricked her skin. His hat or the wind had blown a lock of his hair out of place, and she ached to walk over and comb it with her fingers for him.
“No hurry, Miss Whittingham. My social calendar isn’t yet full.” He touched the rim of the glass to his lips and sipped the drink without taking his gaze off her. “You look lovely tonight. What is that color of your dress? Yellow or beige?”
Mirabella looked down at her flounced skirt and saw that it shimmered elegantly in the candlelight. “I believe the dressm
akers are calling it buttercream this year.”
“Yes, that’s the perfect name for it. Very becoming.” He took a seat on the floral-printed settee.
“Thank you.” She cleared her throat and said, “I now believe I might have been too hasty in making my decision not to continue with our engagement for a few months longer.”
“Really?” The corners of his lips twitched with humor.
He was teasing her, but she didn’t mind. “As surprising as it must be, considering how unbending I was earlier in the day, I find that your proposal now suits my needs. I would like to take you up on your offer.”
He didn’t say a word, only continued to search her face with a thoughtful expression, giving her reason to doubt her wisdom in approaching him.
Unable to wait him out, Mirabella hurried to say, “That is if the offer you made is still on the table, sir.”
“Just so we are clear on this, specifically, how did you remember the offer as being made?”
She thought back. “You suggested that we continue with the pretense of an engaged couple. We would attend parties and balls, stroll in the park, and take rides down Rotten Row. We would also make a few wedding plans to make it all seem very legitimate.”
“I remember it that way as well. Is this what you are proposing,” he paused, “or is it something more?”
An unexpected rush of anticipation filled Mirabella’s chest. She wondered if he were aware of how he affected her. “No, no more. Just as you had stated it.”
“Since you have come to me this time, I feel free to inquire what happened that you have so sudden a change of heart.”
“I agree. That’s a reasonable question, and it has a very simple answer. My father is the reason. I’m afraid I don’t have that rare courage you suspected me of having.”
His eyes narrowed. “How so?”
She took a seat in the oval-back, tapestry-covered armchair facing him. “My father has not been well recently. His physician has him on strong medication, and we hope that he will be well again, but as time progresses and there is little improvement, his future health is doubtful.”