by Lauren Smith
Joanna frowned. “Rosalind is right—you don’t understand women, and you clearly underestimate them. Stop being a pompous idiot and court her properly. I’ll see if I can convince her to go to the Mertons’ ball tonight.”
Joanna twirled her bonnet on one finger and walked away.
Fuming, Ashton stalked toward Charles and Jonathan, who were both sniggering and not even attempting to hide it.
“Trouble with your lady love?” Charles asked.
“Laugh again if you wish to have a bloody nose.”
Charles threw up his hands in mock surrender. “Touchy, eh? Jonathan, you owe me a pound. I do believe a certain lady will not be attending the ball tonight.”
Jonathan dug around in his pockets, but Ashton caught his arm.
“Don’t pay just yet, Jon. Double your wager. I will see that she attends tonight.” And then he left in search of his horse. He needed to go on a long ride to cool his heels. If he was to play the courtly gentleman tonight, it would take all of his focus and control. Or else he’d do what he’d been threatening to and take Rosalind to bed because she needed a release as much as he did.
Courting her is going to be the bloody death of me.
Chapter Twelve
Mr. Pevensly took pride in being Lady Melbourne’s butler and seeing to the duties which helped him care for Her Ladyship’s residence. Holding his head high, he descended the stairs, white gloves running the length of the banister. When he reached the bottom stair he lifted his gloved fingers, examining them for dust. They came away clean. With a satisfied smile, he proceeded through the rest of the house, checking on each room. The last door he came to before he was to join the staff downstairs for supper was Her Ladyship’s study.
Pevensly opened the door and glanced inside, assuming all would be in order. But before he closed the door a breeze drifted through the room from an open window facing the mew below. Papers on the desk rustled, and the curtains slowly lifted and fell.
Frowning, Pevensly walked over to the window and slid it shut. A maid must have left it open, for what purpose he could not fathom, but he would speak to the maids and remind them not to leave open windows in an empty room. He then tidied the papers on the desk and left.
By now his stomach was rumbling, and he was interested to know what the cook had prepared. It might be a while until Her Ladyship returned, and she always insisted that the staff dine on the best food while she was away so it would not have to be thrown out. It was one of many reasons why Pevensly appreciated his mistress. With a pat on his stomach, he proceeded to the door that would take him downstairs to the staff kitchens.
******
Rosalind glared at Joanna. “How on earth did I let you talk me into this?”
Ashton’s sister was almost a feminine version of her older brother, with bright blue eyes, pale blond hair and stunning features. Unlike Ashton, however, Joanna was a creature made of pure sweetness. She was always full of smiles, even if she did have a mischievous gleam in her eyes.
“If I remember correctly, it’s because I told you how many wonderful gentlemen will be attending tonight, which will give you many chances to make Ashton very jealous. He won’t be able to do anything because he will be forced to behave himself.” Joanna nudged Rosalind in front of a tall mirror and grinned.
Rosalind couldn’t help but smile. She’d brought a lovely round dress of white figured lace over a white satin slip. Her maid had packed it because it worked equally well as an evening dress or for balls, not that she’d planned on dancing when she’d prepared for this journey. No, she’d been contemplating seduction, and this dress brought out her dark hair and accented her figure to advantage. The sleeves were alternately puffed with pink gros de Naples and white lace.
She hadn’t really let Joanna talk her into the ball—it was part of her bargain with Ashton to keep up appearances, and she intended to do her part. She had given their argument in the fields some thought and felt she had to trust him to return her companies to her if she played her part. But seducing him back might just help ensure that he did keep his word, and a ball might help that along.
“This is beautiful,” Joanna said with a sigh. “I love it when gowns have wreaths of field flowers on the hem. You have exquisite taste.”
Rosalind examined Joanna’s gown. It was a similar white lace round dress with a bodice strewn with rosebuds, and the sleeves were interspersed with pearls and flounced with bluebells and roses. A lovely gown, but it did not do much for Joanna’s pale hair and creamy skin.
“It’s a good thing white is in season. I have plenty of white gowns.” Joanna plucked at her skirts and sighed.
“But with your fair complexion you should try other colors. Rose or dark blue,” Rosalind suggested.
“Do you think so?” Joanna studied herself in the mirror, as if picturing herself in such a gown.
“Oh yes. Men notice color more than you think. Try something striking—don’t let any matrons’ gossip bother you. I know many believe pastels are the only suitable colors, but if it washes out your coloring, it fails to serve its true purpose, which is to aid you in hunting for a husband.”
Ashton’s sister laughed. “It’s silly, but I haven’t found a man who is interesting enough to tempt me into matrimony. But there is always so much pressure to find a match.” Joanna sobered. “Every time I attend dinners and balls in London during the season, I watch my friends find husbands, and every year the married ladies ask me when I shall find a match, as though that was all I was created for. It’s maddening to think that I only draw breath to serve as a vessel for bearing children. I want to find a man who will love me for me, a man who will be a partner in my life, someone who is wild and adventurous and not concerned with the cut of his coat or the style of his cravat.” Joanna blushed when she glanced at Rosalind. “I’m sorry. I should have not said that.”
Pity and understanding filled Rosalind, and she clasped Joanna’s hands in hers. “We are of the same mind, you and I. Never think you cannot speak your heart to me.” She smiled. “What you need is a husband who will move heaven and earth for you, yet still sees you as an equal.”
Joanna frowned. “Assuming such a man exists. How am I supposed to know if a man sees me in such a way?”
It was a good question. Men so often seemed to speak of women as prized possessions in public circles. It was hard sometimes to tell how they thought of them as people.
“If a man professes his love for you, look close at how he speaks about you and ask yourself—does he love who I am, or what I offer? Let the answer guide you. After seeing how Lady Essex, Lady Rochester and Lady Sheridan’s husbands are with their wives, I see now it is possible. If you can make a match like that, you’ll escape the sense of being trapped. I promise you.” She gave Joanna’s hands a gentle squeeze before letting go.
“Thank you. I’m too afraid to talk to Mama of such things. Not that she’d be angry with me, but I think she feels she plays a part in my failure to find a husband. It has been a strain on her.”
Rosalind nodded. “I imagine so, but you mustn’t let it bother you. You must look happy and relaxed for a man to be interested.”
Ashton’s sister beamed, hope making her eyes bright and excitement putting a blush in her cheeks.
It was nice to help Joanna and offer her advice. Her own mother had died before they could have talks like this, and it had left a deep empty well inside her. Inside everyone in her family. There had been no balls, no suitors, no giggling over dresses or discussions on how best to catch a husband. All the things that mothers and daughters would have shared, she had not been able to do. Rather than a come-out, she’d been trapped in an aging castle, coping with every vicious blow her father dealt and hiding every minute she could manage.
“Well, it’s too late to change my dress now.” Joanna gazed at her reflection again, a tad wistful.
“Next time then,” Rosalind assured her. “Are you ready?”
Joanna nodded. “We�
��re taking a coach. The men will ride.”
“Thank heavens for that,” Rosalind muttered. If she had to share a coach with Ashton, she’d likely stomp on his foot on purpose…more than once. Not that it would do much good. He’d be wearing sturdy leather shoes, and she would be in white satin slippers.
“Here.” Joanna handed her a pair of elbow-length evening gloves before tugging on her own. It had been a relief to not have to change in Ashton’s bedchamber tonight. She was still furious with him after what had happened in the field, and if she’d had to be alone with him again so soon, she might have thrown something at that stubborn, pragmatic head of his.
As they came down the main stairs, Regina was waiting for them.
“The men have just left, even Rafe, though he wanted to take the coach with us because of his injured arm. Ashton insisted he ride.”
The older woman’s words bought Rosalind up short.
“Mr. Lennox hurt his arm?” She had not yet made the acquaintance of Ashton’s younger brother.
“Yes, he fell and badly injured his shoulder. We had to have Dr. Finchley come and see to him. It was bloody, far more so than I would have expected from a fall. I would have fainted had I been allowed to see it, but Rafe wouldn’t let anyone but the doctor in. Stubborn boy.”
Rosalind thought over how a man might injure himself in a fall. It was possible, she supposed, if he’d landed on a broken branch or a sharp stone. But still, she thought back to those eyes from the night she was robbed. His hesitation when she’d called him Lord Lennox. What if it was an entirely different wound he suffered…such as a gunshot?
Could Rafe be the highwayman who’d robbed her?
“I’m afraid I haven’t had the pleasure of meeting your brother before,” Rosalind said. “What is he like?”
Joanna leaned close to Rosalind as Ashton’s mother walked ahead to see if the coach was ready. “Rafe is…well, he’s quite the opposite of Ashton. Rafe never looks before he leaps. I daresay he is never without a mistress, and he loves gambling. He always says life is about taking risks.”
“That does sound like the opposite of Ashton, except perhaps for the mistress part.”
“That’s brothers for you. Do you have brothers, Rosalind?”
Rosalind couldn’t help but smile as she and Joanna climbed into the carriage. “I have three.”
“Three? Lord, I can barely tolerate having two. What are yours like? Surely they are better behaved than mine.”
“Brothers?” Regina caught up on the conversation.
Normally Rosalind would not have divulged so much of her past to strangers, but she rather liked and trusted Ashton’s mother and sister.
“Brock is my eldest brother. Then there’s Brodie and Aiden. They’re all older than me. And lovable, though more than a wee bit stubborn. I am not quite sure any of them qualify as gentlemen.”
Regina chuckled. “Scotsmen are something entirely different. They will drive you mad, but they have many irresistibly charming qualities.” Regina laughed outright when she glanced at Rosalind. “I mean that as a compliment. We have a few Scots in our family.”
“Ashton did mention that. He even knew a bit of Gaelic.”
“Yes, that boy loves languages. He excelled at his schooling, and he and his friends are all fluent in half a dozen of them.”
Joanna giggled. “One night they were talking about something and didn’t want me to overhear, so they spoke German for the next half hour. I was more impressed than upset by the end of their discussion.”
Envy filled Rosalind. She wanted to learn more languages but hadn’t had the time. After her husband passed, she’d become caught up in the running of her businesses and had little time to study.
“Do you know many languages, Joanna?”
“No. I’m afraid I don’t have the head for it. I am far better at mathematics, like Ashton.”
“Did you study much?”
Joanna nodded. “Ashton made sure both Thomasina and I were as well educated as any man.”
“Thomasina?” That was a new name to her.
Regina brimmed with pride. “My eldest. She’s married and living in London with her husband and two children.”
The rest of the coach ride was filled with stories from Rosalind and Joanna about Ashton’s childhood. Apparently he hadn’t always been a cool, calculating man. He’d once been a veritable scamp.
Rosalind assumed both ladies were doing their best to show Ashton in a favorable light since they believed she and Ashton were courting, but the stories were told with smiles and genuine warmth. Once he’d been a sweet, trouble-seeking boy with frogs in his pockets and a talent for pranks. She couldn’t help but wonder what had happened along the way to change him.
“Ah, here we are,” Regina announced as the coach rolled to a stop before a grand house lit by moonlight. Lamps illuminated the windows, and the large oak front door was open as grooms took charge of coach horses and a butler came out to collect their shawls. The sound of music and laughter inside lifted Rosalind’s spirits. She had been to so few balls in the last few years.
A footman offered her a hand down, and she lifted her skirts before placing her palm in his. This was her first country ball, a private one, but since she had received a formal invitation from the Mertons, she felt comfortable in attending. Even she knew that one could not attend a private country ball unless invited.
“Welcome!” A middle-aged man with graying temples dressed in a fine blue coat was just inside the door, greeting the guests.
Regina made the introductions. “Mr. Merton! Thank you so much for inviting my family and my guests. I would like to introduce you to Lady Melbourne.”
Merton bowed. “Charmed, simply charmed to have you here, Lady Melbourne. Please come in. We are letting gentlemen sign the ladies’ dance cards.” He handed her a small card on a string, and she slipped it around her wrist. The use of dance cards meant there had to be a number of people in attendance.
“What a crush this will be! Come with me.” Joanna tucked her arm in Rosalind’s, and they proceeded to the location where all of the gaiety was occurring.
The ballroom was full of people laughing and talking with delighted animation. It was more informal than the balls she’d attended in London. It was clear that this was an occasion to be celebrated among friends, not a place for political or business alliances and gossiping matrons with social agendas.
Against her own wishes, Rosalind sought Ashton out, trying to find him in the throng of people.
Mr. Merton followed them into the ballroom. “I shall be the master of ceremonies tonight. Let me take you through the room and make the necessary introductions. Then you will be free to accept dance invitations.”
Rosalind met a series of polite and charming bachelors, all strangers to her except one. And his presence came as quite a surprise.
“Lady Melbourne! This is famous! How glad I am to see you again.” The Earl of Pembroke kissed her hand. “How is…everything?” He nodded discreetly in the direction of Ashton, who was standing close to the far wall, scowling with his arms crossed. Jonathan and Charles were talking next to him, but Ashton was staring at her and ignoring them.
So he’d been hiding against the wall. The baron was a wallflower? She nearly laughed at the thought.
“It has not been easy,” Rosalind admitted. “At this moment he controls everything, my lord. I’m not sure how to escape him.”
Lord Pembroke shot Ashton a furious look. “What’s he demanding? Perhaps I could buy your debts up and—”
“No, thank you, my lord. I must deal with him on my own. He intends to marry me, and nothing will dissuade him.”
“Lennox wants to marry you?” Pembroke’s shock was a little upsetting. Surely she couldn’t be that much of a poor prospect as to shock the man.
“Well, I know I’m not an ideal match as a widow, but—”
Pembroke held up a hand. “You mistake my surprise, Lady Melbourne. Lennox has alway
s been so mercenary in his interest in the fairer sex. I simply cannot fathom a romantic side to him. Then again, you are a tempting prospect.” Pembroke’s smile was warm and genuine.
Rosalind nudged him with her fan. “You mustn’t tease me, my lord.” It was so easy to see why Emily Parr liked and trusted this man. He was a true gentleman.
“I would marry you, Lady Melbourne, if you wish it. I am a loyal man and have been told I’m a good lover.” He winked roguishly. “I must confess, I’m rather fascinated by you.”
Two offers of marriage in less than two days? She had to hide her surprise at Pembroke’s unexpected offer. It was incredibly chivalrous of him.
“No, that’s not necessary, my lord, although I am honored by your offer.”
“I mean it, Lady Melbourne. I would be happy to marry you.”
“I see why Lady Essex values your friendship, my lord.”
Pembroke sighed, taking the subtle refusal as well as he could. “I will admit I am disappointed, but I see you’re determined to fight this battle on your own. Very well. However, might I suggest a plan that would make Lennox jealous?”
Rosalind beamed at him. “What a wonderful idea! He’s far too possessive, and I’d very much like to remind him I am a free woman.”
“Then allow me to sign your dance card.” He searched her arm and then penned his name to the first two dances. “I wouldn’t want to cause too much of a scandal by taking more than two, but any more than one is bound to be noticed by Lord Lennox.”
“Thank you, my lord.”
With a smile, Pembroke kissed her hand once more. Then Rosalind watched him move on to another young lady.
A tall, blond-haired, blue-eyed man approached her. He was so like Ashton that he startled her at first.
“So, you are my brother’s latest paramour.” His lips twitched as he captured her hand, kissing her gloved fingertips. She noticed he used his left hand, not his right.
“And you must be Mr. Lennox, Ashton’s wayward brother.”