by Amelia Grey
“Miss Banning also said something about having her sights set on a man in Kent.”
“That could very possibly have been a ruse.” Claudette paused. “But if not, you can handle that. She is beautiful and articulate. I’m sure more than one man has been interested in pursuing her.”
“You would want me to marry a woman who desires another man?”
Claudette took a sip of port before she looked him squarely in the eyes and said, “As her husband, it would be your responsibility to make her forget any other man she has ever thought about.”
“And just how am I supposed to do that?” he said without really thinking about what those words meant.
“In your bed, my dear Andrew. Once you get her there, make her forget any other man exists.”
“Aunt Claude, please,” Andrew said, not wanting to discuss such matters with his aging aunt.
“Don’t act surprised to hear me say that. I’ve had three marriage beds and I know what a good lover can do. Judging from your reputation you won’t fall short in that department.”
“You do know how to get to the heart of a matter, don’t you?” he grumbled more to himself that to Claudette.
“Miss Banning might have gone into your bedchamber, but you didn’t turn her out. You kissed her, we all saw it, and you had her backed up against the dressing table, no less, not the other way around. You might not like the outcome, Andrew, but now you have a moral obligation to make it right.”
“I can make it right by finding her a husband who would be pleased to marry such a beautiful and tempting young lady.”
“And no doubt he would be much older than you. I know Agatha and she will not allow her niece to be married off to an old lord more than twice her age just to save her reputation. Nor would she allow her to marry a penniless baron who would be supported by her dowry for the rest of his life.”
His aunt’s words struck him hard just as she’d intended. He had to admit he didn’t like the thought of Miss Banning being married off to an old man who couldn’t tap into the passion he sensed and felt inside her last night. She had way too much inner anticipation in her to be resigned to that fate.
He didn’t like the thought of a young man touching her any better.
Andrew’s gaze shifted from his aunt to the clock on the mantel. It was four thirty.
What was he going to do about Miss Banning?
If she pushed marriage as her aunt indicated by mentioning the powerful Duke of Norfolk, there were several things he could do to counter that. He could simply leave Town under the guise that he was looking for Willard Hawkins. He could even arrange a marriage for her to someone else.
He instantly dismissed those ideas. He might have done something like that a few years ago but not now. Leaving his estates in the hands of others and not taking an interest in his affairs until it was almost too late had cost him dearly. It had also helped him to mature.
If nothing else, his problems with Willard Hawkins had taught him the hard way not to let unpleasant things continue.
It took a while for him to come to this point. He was a year past thirty. He wanted to be active in what went on in his life and not leave what affected him for others to handle.
If something wasn’t right, he intended to take the matter fully in hand, which was one of the reasons he wouldn’t stop looking until Hawkins was found and thrown in prison.
So what did that understanding tell him about what he should do about Miss Banning?
He didn’t want the entanglements of a wife. He wanted the freedom to flirt with an enchanting miss on a starlit balcony. He wanted to enjoy the pleasures of a mistress in his bed or spend the night gaming and drinking. When he came back to London he’d had his life all planned out, and it didn’t include the responsibilities of a wife.
But Miss Olivia Banning had plans of her own that included him.
Suddenly a picture of her standing in his room framed by golden lamplight filtered through his mind. Her aggressive denial of wanting to trap him whispered past his ear. The scent of fresh-washed hair wafted on the air beneath his nose. His tongue tasted the sweetness of her mouth. The pads of his fingers tingled deliciously as he remembered the softness of her skin.
When he’d kissed her, he’d sensed there was deep passion inside her that had not been roused before he touched her. The thought of awakening her womanly desires sent a rush of heat searing through him. He had no doubt Miss Banning was an innocent, but he also had no doubt she would be a bold lover once she learned the intimacies of what could be shared between a man and a woman.
Andrew swallowed to slow his breathing. Just thinking about her excited him.
She might really be a ghost hunter, or she could have been merely curious as she’d said, but he was certain she wasn’t a simpleton.
After his aunt finished her port and said her farewells, Andrew dressed for the evening and headed straight for White’s. He needed to do something to get his mind off Miss Banning.
It still rankled that he’d been caught with her in his private chamber. He was old enough to know better than to be so irresponsible. And he wouldn’t have been had the gel not tempted him beyond his endurance to resist her.
Cards didn’t seem to be his game for the evening, so he left the tables and headed to the billiard room and found a challenger. Minutes later Andrew rested the heel of his palm on the billiards table and positioned the cue in the web of his hand and scattered the balls.
Not a one of them went into a pocket.
Half a rueful laugh swept past his lips and he bowed to his opponent.
Not only had fate turned against him, Lady Luck had left him, too.
Andrew barely knew the man he was playing against, but that’s the way it had been since he’d returned to London. Before John and Chandler had married he’d always had them to play cards or billiards with, so there was no reason to get close with anyone else. He had to get over the fact that neither of his two best friends cared a damn anymore about spending the night at White’s gaming and drinking.
“It’s your turn,” the younger man said.
Andrew looked at his opponent, and then without saying a word tried to put a ball in the side pocket. He missed by several inches. It just wasn’t his night. He should have given up long ago and gone home.
He’d lost every card game he’d played, and now he couldn’t even win at billiards when he was usually a challenging player. With no current mistress to ease his frustration, the only way to end a night like this was to have another drink and go home.
But that didn’t hold any appeal, either. He had to make some inquiries and see about arranging for a mistress.
Andrew quickly let the young man beat him at billiards and then replaced the cue on the rack before settling his bet. He picked up his tankard of ale and turned to head into the club room when he saw Chandler and John walking through the doorway.
His spirits lifted instantly. Damn, there was no way they could know how bad he needed to see them tonight, yet, they were here.
“What’s this?” he joked, walking toward them as if he didn’t have a care in the world. “Are these the two lovesick puppies I saw a month ago? The ones who didn’t want to leave their wives for an evening of games at White’s or even a horse race in the park?”
“We wouldn’t have tonight,” John said, “except for the fact that we felt like you needed us.”
Andrew’s smile faded. That changed everything.
He did need their friendship and companionship, but he didn’t want them knowing that. He’d walk through hell unarmed before he’d allow anyone to feel sorry for him, especially these two strong men who had been like his brothers.
Andrew had gotten himself into this trap with Miss Banning and he’d get himself out of it. And looking at the two of them, he knew exactly what he had to do.
Eyeing them warily, Andrew said, “Now why would you two think I needed you? I’m in White’s with money in my pockets. I’m gaming”—he pointed to the billiard table behind him—“and I’m losing.” He pointed to the gentleman who was putting his winnings in his pocket. “And I’m drinking.” He held up the tankard of ale he held in his hand. “What more could I need?”
“We’re worried about you, and it looks like somebody needs to be, since you aren’t,” Chandler said with a scowl on his face.
Andrew grinned with ease. “Worried? Since when and over what?” he asked, though he had a pretty good idea why they had come.
“Since last evening when you admitted you were caught with a young lady in your bedchamber. We haven’t been able to stop thinking about it.”
“Yes,” John said. “Obviously you haven’t heard, but the incident hit Lord Truefitt’s column this afternoon.”
“And you know when that bastard gets hold of a piece of gossip he doesn’t let it go until he gets to the bottom of every fact and every name,” Chandler added with distaste in his tone.
Andrew looked at his two friends. They were worried about him. They wanted to help him. He saw it in their faces. And that felt damn good, but it also made him even more determined to handle this on his own. And do what he must. Despite the consequences of what he had decided he had to do.
He took a chug of the ale. It was dark, strong, and soothing. Suddenly it was as clear as a cloudless blue sky what he had to do.
“Well, worry no more, my good friends who have come to rescue me. I plan to take care of the problem to the satisfaction of everyone concerned in the matter.”
Chandler and John looked at each other with curious expressions on their faces and then they turned their confused expressions on Andrew.
“Wait a minute,” John said. “How do you propose to settle this?”
Taking a labored breath, Andrew placed his empty tankard on a nearby table and clapped both men on the back as he said, “The old-fashioned way. I’m going to marry her.”
Eight
The ballroom of the Great Hall glittered with lights from hundreds of candles. Stately columns had been draped with ivory tulle, wrapped in green vines, and scattered with sweet-smelling blossoms. Large doors were swung wide so the night’s gentle breeze could flow through the room and keep the guests cool as the dancing, laughter, and chatter heated up the rooms.
Olivia twirled, sidestepped, and curtsied as she covered the dance floor with a man who looked to be twice her age. Agatha had told her the marquis’s second wife had died in childbirth and he was looking to find his third bride to take care of his four children before the Season was out.
She was certain her aunt wanted her to realize there were worse things than being forced to marry a handsome earl. And this titled gentleman who kept smiling at her made a believer out of Olivia.
Facing him in the quadrille was as close as she wanted to get to him. He wasn’t unattractive. In fact he seemed very fit and quite intelligent, but Olivia felt no spark of interest when she looked at him. She had no intention of becoming his next wife. As soon as this dance was over she was heading to the ladies’ retiring room to spend a few quiet moments alone.
Aunt Agatha considered herself a master in knowing how to handle all issues concerning the dos and don’ts of Society affairs. As a well-respected spinster among the ton for many years she’d had countless opportunities not only to see but also to help direct how delicate matters such as compromising situations were maneuvered to create the least amount of scandal.
Olivia had assumed they would not attend any more parties in London after Agatha had insisted they quit Lord Dugdale’s party last night immediately after they’d left his bedchamber.
But Olivia was wrong.
Her aunt had said they must be at the biggest party of the evening tonight. Agatha wanted Olivia seen dancing with handsome gentlemen, laughing with young ladies, and charming aging dowagers, and that was exactly what she’d been doing.
Olivia had dined, danced, and chatted for what seemed like hours. She felt confident that no one, other than the intimate group last night, knew she was the young lady written about in Lord Truefitt’s column. Surely someone would have mentioned it to her or at least shied away from her if they knew.
Agatha had assured her, however, that it was only a matter of time before her name trickled out into the open and then it would be on everyone’s lips.
Only once had she felt even slightly uncomfortable, and that was when Lady Lynette joined a group of ladies with whom Olivia was conversing. Thankfully the duke’s daughter had made no reference to what she’d witnessed the night before. Her silence had made Olivia like her even more.
At last the lively dance came to an end and Olivia allowed the bride-hunting marquis to lead her back to her aunt.
“Do you like children?” the marquis asked as they walked across the dance floor.
“I suppose so,” she answered truthfully. “I was an only child so I’ve never had the opportunity to be around children.”
“There’s not much to do. The governess takes care of them during the day and a nurse cares for them at night.”
“Oh, how nice. Aunt Agatha is over there,” she said, changing the subject and picking up her pace.
The truth was that Olivia had never given the idea of children much thought. Having children was just something she knew would happen after she got married. She didn’t want to think about the possibility of marrying a man who already had four.
The dapper marquis led Olivia over to Agatha, who was standing with Lady Lynette, Mrs. Farebrother, and several other women. The marquis spoke to the ladies and soon had all of them except Olivia listening to his story.
Olivia had caught a glimpse of Lady Lynette looking at the Marquis of Musgrove Glenn. Lynette’s lovely green eyes were transfixed on the man and she had an adoring expression on her face. She was taking in every word he said as if she were trying to memorize them.
At one point the marquis’s gaze met Lynette’s for a moment and he smiled at her. Olivia saw the older woman blush as easily as an innocent schoolgirl with her first thought of love. Olivia couldn’t help but think that Lady Lynette had designs on the marquis.
When he finished his story, Mrs. Farebrother started talking to Agatha, but Olivia kept her attention on Lynette and the marquis.
Lynette asked him about his four children, calling each of them by name. She asked about his ailing, elderly mother. Olivia could see the marquis was pleased that she showed concern for his family, and then he in turn asked about her father.
When the marquis bid his farewell and left, Lady Lynette watched him walk away. The adoring expression stayed on her face until he walked up to another lady and headed to the dance floor with her. Only then did Lady Lynette look away. The glimmer of happiness had left her eyes and in its place was sadness.
It occurred to Olivia as she continued to study Lady Lynette that she had that same faraway look that came over her aunt when she was thinking about Lord Pinkwater.
Lady Lynette was in love with the marquis and Olivia wondered if the man had any idea. And if he didn’t, what could she do to help him realize it?
Olivia cleared her throat and spoke softly so her aunt and the other ladies standing near them couldn’t hear her say, “Thank you, Lady Lynette, for not mentioning what happened last evening when we were talking with the group of ladies a short while ago.”
“Oh, I wouldn’t have brought that up in front of anyone, Miss Banning.” She leaned in closer to Olivia and added, “But now that we’re alone, I would like to say that I hope everything is being handled appropriately and to your satisfaction.”
“Yes, thank you. Aunt Agatha and Lord Dugdale talked today.”
“Good.”
Olivia knew that perhaps she should leave well-enough alone, but she w
anted someone other than her aunt to know and believe that she hadn’t planned a rendezvous with Lord Dugdale.
“I feel like I owe you an explanation about last night.”
Lady Lynette’s green eyes widened a little and she moved a little closer to Olivia, turning so that she blocked Olivia from the other two ladies.
“Oh, no, don’t think you have to explain anything, but if you would like to, I shall be happy to listen to anything you have to say.”
“It truly started very innocently. I did not arrange to meet Lord Dugdale in his rooms. It’s true we’d never even met. I was only peeking inside his room when curiosity got the better of me and I wandered inside to look around. I’ve never been in a man’s chamber and I wanted to see what it was like. I had no idea he would come in while I was there.”
Lynette smiled. “I probably would have done the same thing. I’ve never been in a man’s room before either and I’m a few years older than you. What was it like? Did you feel absolutely sinful for being in there?”
“No, I felt—” She paused. Safe. Comfortable. Welcomed. “All right, yes, I felt a little naughty,” she answered with a sheepish smile, knowing that’s what the duke’s daughter wanted to hear.
“I’m certain that every young lady who’s ready to wed wishes she was the girl who’d been caught in his room.”
“Do you really think so?”
“Of course. He’s handsome, titled, and considered unattainable. He’s the last bachelor of the Terrible Threesome. What more could a young lady want?”
“Love?”
Lynette sighed quietly. “Of course. How could I have forgotten? It’s such an elusive thing, is it not, except maybe for Lord Byron? He seems to know just how to explain what it feels like to be in love, doesn’t he?”
“He has a way with words like none other, Lady Lynette.”
“Oh, please, you must call me Lynette. We certainly don’t need to be formal, do we?”