A Pledge of Passion (The Rules of Engagement)

by Victoria Vane

  "I'm sorry, Lyddie. I didn't mean to worry you, but Mr. Needham and I had much to discuss." She sheepishly diverted her gaze away. "And then I couldn't find the package you asked me to retrieve."

  "Botheration!" Lydia declared. "It must have been left behind at Russell House. No matter." She waved her hand dismissively. "I'll just have to present it to Marcus when we return."

  "Where is Marcus?" Nick asked.

  "Right over there." She pointed. "My poor darling is stuck between the two cricket-mad dukes. The king has already made his excuses. He abhors the game, probably because Prince Frederick is so enamored of it. I marvel that a father and son can so despise one another. I'm certain Marcus would appreciate a rescue. Indeed, if he sends me another beseeching look, I just may have to feign birth pains."

  Nick laughed. "You need not. I have the perfect excuse to pull him away."

  "And what is that?" Lydia asked.

  "It seems I am in need of a best man."

  Lydia's eyes widened. "You and Mariah are to wed?"

  Unable to hold back her joy, Mariah released a giddy giggle. "Yes, Lyddie."

  "Dearest! I am so happy for you!" Lydia gushed. "When?"

  "We haven't—"

  "As soon as it can be arranged," Nick interjected. "Please, Mariah. Let us be married soon. I see no reason to delay." He brought her hand to his lips and pressed a kiss to it. "I won't chance losing you again."

  "You must tell Marcus at once," Lydia declared. "He will be so very pleased."

  Nick grinned and gave Lydia a mocking bow. "I am your humble servant, my lady. I go to retrieve your beleaguered husband."

  "I am truly happy for you, dearest," Lydia said the moment Nick departed. "As will be Lady Russell."

  "Where is she?" Mariah asked.

  "Over there." Lydia inclined her head to a nearby cluster of elegantly clad women. "She's engaged in a tete-a-tete with the Duchess of Bedford." Lydia frowned. "I daresay Her Grace will be less than pleased to hear your news."

  "Why is that?" Mariah asked.

  "Because she's the one who put forth your name to Lord Rochford. She thoroughly disapproves of his personal conduct and desires to see him wed. It is she who brought the matter to the king's attention. While I couldn't be happier for you, I fear what might transpire when His Majesty gets wind of this."

  "You believe Nick's career will be in jeopardy?"

  "It's highly possible if Rochford takes exception to the news. He has the king's ear."

  "I don't know why he should take exception. It's not as if he is in love with me. I was merely the lesser of three evils."

  "Three?" Lydia's brows rose. "So there were other candidates?"

  "I believe so, but Nick can give you the particulars."

  Lydia tapped her fan to her lips. "Then perhaps there is a viable solution. Come," she hooked elbows with Mariah, "this is a matter for Lady Russell's counsel."

  ***

  "Nick!" Marcus greeted him warmly. "Speak of the devil and he doth appear!"

  "Have I sprouted horns?" Nick asked dryly. "Your Graces," Nick made his obeisance first to the Duke of Bedford and then to Richmond.

  "Ah, Needham!" His Grace of Bedford smiled. "We were indeed discussing the match last year that won Marcus his place on the delegation. I informed Richmond here that Lord Rochford stole one of the best batsmen in England. He reports that you have assembled quite a good cricket team in Turin."

  "The Italians would hardly hold a candle to our English players," Nick replied, "but they have embraced the game with great enthusiasm."

  "Indeed?" Lord Richmond remarked. "Bedford and I have in mind to form a cricket club. 'Tis too bad you are posted in the Italian states. A man of your reputed talent would be invaluable in getting our new venture off the ground."

  "I would be honored to play for you, Your Grace. But I must conclude the matter that brought me back to England."

  "And how goes the wooing?" Bedford asked. "Has Rochford secured his bride?"

  Nick shook his head. "Sadly, the lady in question has refused him."

  "Did she, begad?" Bedford remarked with a frown. "What reason does she give?"

  "Her affections are otherwise engaged."

  "Ah. I daresay Rochford will not pine over it. Nevertheless, it still must be done. My duchess will never rest until he is well and truly shackled like the rest of us poor sods."

  "How soon do you return to Turin?" Richmond asked.

  "I don't know, Your Grace. In truth, I would very much like to remain in England."

  "You intend to leave the Foreign Service?" the Duke of Bedford remarked in surprise. "Were you not recently promoted?"

  "Yes, Your Grace," Nick confessed. "I appreciate the opportunity I was given, but I find I am far too English to live my entire life abroad."

  The Duke of Richmond chuckled. "Can't fault a man for being too English.”

  "If you do not intend to return to Turin, what are your plans?" Bedford asked. "If you are going to settle in the metropolis, I could use a batsman of your skill."

  "I don't yet know, Your Grace. I have yet to make inquiries. I had thought to seek a position in the Office of the Exchequer.”

  "Then you must call on me at Woburn when the time comes. I'm certain something could be arranged."

  "Thank you, Your Grace," Nick replied.

  "I trust by your extended absence that your mission was fruitful?" Marcus inquired sotto voce.

  "It was indeed," Nick replied with a grin. "I found your advice most helpful in the matter.

  "Lord Marcus!" They both looked up to find Mariah racing toward them, skirts in hand. "You must come at once!"

  Marcus instantly paled. "What has happened, Mariah? Is it Lydia?"

  "Yes!" she replied breathlessly. "Her waters have broken. The birth pains have begun!"

  "The devil!" Marcus exclaimed. "Here? Now?"

  "I will call for my coach at once," the Duke of Bedford declared.

  "But the traffic is execrable tonight," Nick stated. "What if you don't make it home safely?"

  "Richmond House would be honored to welcome your heir," the duke offered magnanimously. "Let us take Lady Lydia inside at once. I will alert the duchess to prepare chambers for her lying in."

  ***

  None of the Russell party returned home that night. Six hours later, on the very day of Marcus and Lydia's anniversary, Lord Richmond Marcus Maximillian Russell entered the world.

  Exhausted by their all-night vigil, Mariah, Nick, and Lady Russell departed Richmond House by carriage, leaving Marcus behind with his wife and heir.

  "I understand we have a second cause for celebration," Lady Russell remarked with a sly smile.

  "Yes. We had hoped to perform the nuptials soon," Nick said, "but Mariah has convinced me that I should first try to resolve Lord Rochford's business."

  "That would be wise, Needham. It would bode ill to make an enemy of the man. Have you any thoughts on how you wish to proceed?"

  "There were two other names on the list, Lady Albinia Albright and Lady Georgiana Throckmorton. Rochford only cares that they be possessed of beauty and a biddable temperament."

  "Are you acquainted with either of the ladies, Needham?"

  "No, my lady."

  "Then I will save you considerable trouble. Lady Albinia, although possessed of a pleasing nature, has exceedingly poor eyesight and rabbit teeth."

  "How unfortunate," Mariah said. "What of Lady Georgiana?"

  "Georgiana is a noted beauty in Cambridgeshire, but she is spoiled, willful, and prone to tantrums—a veritable termagant."

  Mariah grimaced. "What shall we do?"

  Lady Russell pursed her lips in thought. "I propose another candidate who should suit Rochford admirably. Indeed, they could not be better matched as both are notorious gamesters with the morals of an alley cat."

  "Of whom do you speak?" Nick asked.

  "I speak of the recently widowed Lady Cumberbatch. Although the primary estate devolves on her neph
ew, she is possessed of several other properties and a considerable fortune, which was protected in her marriage settlement."

  "Is that so?" Nick inquired with interest.

  "Moreover, I believe the countess and Rochford are already quite well acquainted," Lady Russell stated with a knowing look. "Perhaps a query in that direction would not go astray?"

  "Madam," Nick smiled. "Once more I stand in awe of your brilliance."

  Lady Russell accepted the compliment with an inclination of her head and a wistful sigh. "Were I but a man, Needham, our nation's troubles would have been solved long ago."

  ***

  My Dear Lord Rochford,

  I regret to inform you that the business you entrusted me with did not conclude as we had originally discussed. Of the three prospects, the first has already pledged herself to another, and the second and third have been deemed unsuitable, according to your criteria. There is, however, another, a widowed lady of your acquaintance, whom our mutual friend, Lady Russell, assures me would receive your suit with the keenest interest.

  I will remain in London awaiting your further instructions.

  Your Most Obedient,

  Nicolas Needham

  Nick signed, sanded, and sealed his missive. "It is done. There is no turning back now."

  Mariah sighed. "And now we must await his answer. I do hope he accepts the news with good grace, but at least you do not have to fear for your employment."

  "It matters little anymore, my love. I would not give you up now for anyone or anything." He looped an arm around her waist and pulled her onto his lap. "And I refuse to wait any longer to make you mine. 'Love reckons hours for months, and days for years; and every little absence is an age.'"

  "You quote my favorite poet," she replied with a smile.

  "The words may be Dryden's, but the sentiments are mine." He kissed her deeply. "I feel as if I have already waited a lifetime. Let us be done with secrecy, Mariah. Let us declare our love to the world."

  EPILOGUE

  "Love is love's reward."- John Dryden

  Morehaven Manor, Derbyshire—Five years later

  THE DAY WAS PERFECT. The sun shone brightly overhead, creating shimmering light on the rippling waters of the ornamental lake. Lydia and Mariah reclined on a blanket amidst the remains of a picnic under the shade of an ancient oak. A blissful smile played about Mariah's mouth as she watched Nick and Marcus frolic with their four sons.

  A sudden flutter in her belly made her start. A moment later, it repeated. Lyddie," she whispered excitedly. "I think the babe quickens.'

  "Is it the first time you've felt it?"

  "Yes, but I didn't expect it for several more weeks. I was much further along with little Ned before I felt anything."

  "You are just more aware now that you've already experienced it."

  "I suppose you are right."

  "Have you told him yet?"

  "No. I wanted to wait until I was certain."

  Nick came upon them, breathless from a game of tag, with his young son clinging to his back, pretending to jockey. He peeled the toddler from around his neck and threw himself down on the blanket beside her. "My lady, you have something I need."

  "What is it?" Mariah asked. "Nicolas! What are you doing?" she exclaimed as he proceeded to pull off her shoe.

  He grinned up at her. "I am in dire need of a stocking. Our son has asked to learn cricket. We've already practiced bowling. Now he wishes to bat."

  "I'm going to hit the ball just like Papa!" Little Ned chimed.

  "So you wish me to sacrifice my silk stocking?"

  He reached under her skirts and untied her garter. "It won't be the first time."

  She shivered at the intentional caress of his hand down her leg as he removed the stocking. His lightest touch always made her react, but the look in his eye hinted at bigger and better shivers yet to come. "Nick?"

  "Yes, love?"

  "Our babe has quickened."

  He returned a blank stare. "What?"

  "Our child is moving inside me."

  "Our child is on my back."

  "Our other child."

  "Other child? You are carrying another one?"

  "Yes!" She laughed at his shocked expression. "Marcus and Lydia have already done their part to establish your team, I thought I should do mine. Are you happy, Nick?"

  He drew her into his arms for a long and lingering kiss. "Happy does not begin to describe my sentiments, Mariah. My dearest love, I didn't even know what happiness was until I met you. I have everything a man could ever desire, but it would all mean nothing without you."

  END

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  Keep reading for an excerpt of Marcus and Lydia's story, A BREACH OF PROMISE.

  A BREACH OF PROMISE

  (The Rules of Engagement Book #1)

  When charm and persuasion fail...Only seduction remains...

  On the night of her betrothal, Lydia Trent receives just a taste of what ecstasy will be at the hands of her fiancé...and then he leaves her wanting. After waiting six years, and tired of being neglected by her exceedingly reluctant husband-to-be, Lydia decides to break it off.

  When Marcus, Lord Russell, receives Lydia's letter requesting a release from their contract, he is stunned by her audacity. Confident he'll have her eating out of his hand with his usual wit and charm, he's determined to repair the damage. However, the headstrong woman she's blossomed into is equally determined to thwart his every effort to win her back.

  Marcus discovers, in spite of her conviction to end the union, Lydia is more responsive to his touch than he ever imagined. He just needs to get her alone to unleash the promised passion he sees within his wanton virgin. Marcus will use any tool in his arsenal to exploit her weakness--his kisses, his hands, his mouth...her own body. In short, he'll just have to ruin her!

  EXCERPT: A BREACH OF PROMISE

  Derbyshire, England—1742

  LYDIA ALBINIA TRENT was giddy with anticipation as her new abigail Molly slid the fine silk over her petticoat and stays. Lydia ran her fingers over the luxurious fabric with sheer delight. It was a custom-made confection of soft, petal pink with white bows and matching pink, satin slippers specially ordered for this momentous occasion and her first silk gown.

  Now dressed, Molly put the finishing touches to Lydia’s hair, pinning her usual braids into a ladylike coronet atop her head and ornamenting the coiffure with pink ribbon and white roses.

  A soft tap sounded at the door. “Are you ready, my dear?” her father called through the wooden panel. “The guests are nearly all arrived.”

  “One minute more, Papa!” Lydia called. With a deep intake of breath, she stood and turned to the pier glass, expecting to behold a young lady of sophistication, one who would prove to Marcus she was now a woman grown. To her chagrin, the image that greeted her fell short of her expectations. Beribboned and bowed in pink and white, Lydia was struck by the ludicrous thought that she more closely resembled her birthday cake.

  She exited her room and dipped into her well-practiced curtsey. “Do you approve, Papa?” she asked with uncertainty.

  His warm, dry lips brushed her cheek. “You are the image of your dear Mama.” He pulled her hand to the crook of his elbow. “Shall we, my dearest treasure?”

  Lydia had looked forward to her engagement party to Marcus Russell since…well…since as long as she could remember. She had thought herself the happiest girl in the world to know that such a dashing, young man would one day be hers. Now, with the arrival of her seventeenth birthday, it would become official at last.

  Although the event was an intimate gathering with only family and close friends in attendance, Lydia was still a bundle of nerves, descending on her father’s arm with a tremulous smile and a racing pulse. As she reached the bottom of the staircase, she bit her lip and her gaze flickered over the assemblage of well-wishers, seeking the one who ma
de her heart race and knees quiver.

  “Where is he?” she whispered. “Where is Marcus?” She had expected him to be first to receive her. Seized with trepidation, she looked to her father for reassurance.

  Sir Timothy covered her small hand and gave it a comforting squeeze. “Have no fear, child, he will be here. Any number of things might have delayed him in London.”

  Though her father’s words and manner were confident, she could detect the anxiety behind his eyes. “Of course you are right, Papa,” she replied with a serenity she could not feel. In this nightmare daze of distraction, Lydia moved about the room to greet her guests.

  “Lord and Lady Russell.” With heat stealing into her cheeks, Lydia made her deepest obeisance to the parents of the elusive groom-to-be. Pasting on a false smile, she fought the nervous churning of her stomach and grappled the powerful urge to flee back to her chamber.

  “My dear girl, how lovely you look!” Lady Russell kissed both of her cheeks and gushed, “Your mother would have been so very proud.”

  “Enchanting, simply enchanting,” Lord Philip Russell agreed, all the while stealing anxious glances to the doorway. In obvious embarrassment, he conjured several possible, if unlikely, scenarios for Marcus’ delay. Lydia murmured an appropriate reply but refused to meet their discomfited gazes.

  After waiting nearly two hours for the missing bridegroom, the elaborate dinner proceeded in an awkward but telling silence. Too mortified to raise her eyes from her plate, Lydia picked at each course, fighting back tears and wishing with all her heart that the earth would just swallow her up.