A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle

by Catherine Gayle

  A knock at the door signaled their luncheon had arrived, and Uncle Laurence allowed the servants to enter and deliver the food.

  “Oh good, we’ll be able to eat quickly and be on our way then. We’ll begin at the linen drapers and choose our fabrics before we go to see Madam Yeats. Now, after we visit Madam Yeats, we’ll also visit the haberdashers to obtain ribbons and the like. You’ll certainly need a good deal of those, in order to match the new fabrics for your gowns. Oh, gracious, this afternoon will keep us quite busy. Be sure you eat up. You’ll need plenty of energy.”

  Only after placing food in her mouth did Aunt Dorothea’s endless train of plans cease for long enough to allow Grace to digest all that had happened. She forced the lump forming in her throat down, at the same time as she attempted to fight off the sudden wave of nausea that consumed her. Her aunt and uncle surely only wanted the best for her, but why, oh why could they not understand the necessity of staying away from society? Of course, they didn’t seem to grasp even the simpler need for staying away from Lord Alexander, so why should she expect them to understand this more dire need?

  It grew more difficult to be in the man’s company, because as hard as she tried to dislike him, she enjoyed being around him. He created feelings in her she’d never experienced before—strange and wonderful feelings—that would make it so much more difficult for her if he ever discovered the truth.

  She ate in silence and searched her mind for a way out of this convoluted mess—finding few solutions, if any. When Aunt Dorothea decided it was time to begin their shopping, she went along, even though all she wanted to do was crawl under her bed sheets and never come out.

  ~ * ~

  Alex paced the floor of the hotel sitting room he shared with Gil. He was furious with himself. Why had he allowed himself to get so caught up in the moment, watching the passion build in Lady Grace as she had berated him? He hadn’t even paid attention to what she said to him, so he had no idea whether he deserved such a tongue lashing or not. All he could think was how lovely she looked when in pique, and how he wanted to see her that way more often.

  So he kissed her. Again. And this time, with an audience.

  He had sullied her reputation. She was ruined. If he didn’t offer for her, and if she didn’t accept, there would be no possible repair for her character.

  He had spent the last hour and a half with Gil trying to discover a way he could help Lady Grace keep her reputation without marriage, since she seemed so disinclined to any attachment with him whatsoever, and since she knew nothing about Priscilla and Harry. But there was no alternative.

  All of his good intentions were out with the wash. He’d tried to avoid her but failed. He’d tried to ignore his thoughts about her and failed. He’d intended to discover who he was as a man, what he wanted to do with his life, and how he could continue caring for his two responsibilities before he settled down to wife and family. He had only just begun to make progress in those areas, so he was well on his way to yet another failure.

  Perhaps he should have stayed in London with his family and allowed Mama to do her worst. At least then he likely wouldn’t have permanently and irreparably tarnished an innocent young lady’s reputation.

  He couldn’t believe his own weakness when it came to Lady Grace. He never reacted this way with a woman or lost his ability to think clearly solely from being in a woman’s presence. He accepted their affections when they were offered, but never forced his attentions on a woman—and he had always been too gentlemanly to kiss a gently-bred lady in full view of half a city before.

  But this had not been just a kiss. It was hot and raw and needy. Lady Grace gave as much as she took this time, at least initially—before she realized their performance had an eager audience.

  Perhaps marriage to her would not be so dreadful. They would certainly have a great deal of passion. There could be no doubt about that. A marriage to Lady Grace would never be boring.

  “The fact remains I still haven’t settled into a responsible and respectable life,” he admonished himself, “and I have no property. Good lord, I’ve never even met her father. What if he doesn’t approve?” Oh, God. Her father might not approve. But it was too late to worry about such things now. A wedding must be planned with all due haste.

  Gil had, of course, heard his entire monologue. “I should think your first course of action would be to speak with Sir Laurence. He cannot grant you permission to marry his niece, but he might be able to aid your cause with her father. You should speak with him today, while she is shopping with Lady Kensington.”

  He broke his stride to consider Gil’s advice. “Yes. Yes, I’ll speak with Sir Laurence today. And then I must make the situation clear to her. She has to understand there is no alternative other than ruin.” In other words, there was no alternative.

  He would make her understand. She must become his wife.

  “I suppose then I’ll travel to London tomorrow to speak with her father. Gil, what if he finds me unworthy? What happens then? I don’t believe she has come into her majority yet. She must do what her father wishes.” A new thought struck him now. “He could already have an agreement with another man. She may already be betrothed!” Endless potential problems coursed through his mind. “Dare I consider Gretna Greene?”

  A fit of coughs seized Gil, and Alex stopped pacing and rushed to the older man’s side. Once the coughing subsided, Gil implored, “You’ll worry yourself into creating problems that don’t exist. Stop this claptrap at once.” Gil took hold of his arm and pulled him down to sit in an armchair next to him. “You’ll go this afternoon to speak with Sir Laurence. He’ll arrange for you to speak with Lady Grace before the night is through. We’ll pack tonight and be on our way to London in the morning.”

  “We? What is this we?” No way would he take the earl with him on such a journey in his state of health. “I must go to London, but the travel is too hard on you. You should stay here, take the waters, handle your business. I am certain the Kensingtons would be glad to return to Somerton with you when you are ready to go.” The man was in no shape for the journey, and he didn’t want his friend’s health on his conscience, should it take a turn for the worse.

  “I will not have you treat me like a child. I was a grown man when your father was still younger than you are now. I make my own decisions. I’ve decided to accompany you to Town.”

  Alex tried to interrupt, but Gil’s hand stayed him.

  “I’m not finished. This is one of the most important journeys you’ll ever make in your life, and I want to take part in it. I can handle my business in London better than in Bath. We’ll travel in the morning. You will not change my mind. I’m coming with you.”

  The set of Rotheby’s jaw proved no amount of argument would dissuade him. Alex’s heart dropped. With his current delicate health, Gil may never make it back to Somerton. But he would respect his friend’s wishes. Nothing else could be done.

  ~ * ~

  Grace was exhausted—both emotionally and physically—yet Aunt Dorothea still insisted she attend the entertainment that evening at the Assembly Room.

  She’d spent the day before in the carriage traveling to Bath with a constant case of nausea. Then this day. Oh, what a day it had been. It had started with the scene with Lord Alexander, followed by shopping that seemed to never end. Aunt Dorothea had found the fabrics at the first linen draper’s unsatisfactory, so they visited three more before she found enough variety. Then they had gone to see Madam Yeats to order new dresses made. This, of course, required discussion about any number of patterns and designs, debates over which fabric should be used for which design, and endless chatter over all sorts of other details Grace would have preferred be made for her. After all of that, she had been encouraged to try on any number of gowns and select one for the entertainment that evening.

  The first was too loose, the second too long, the next made her skin look sallow, the next too pale—the list of Aunt Dorothea’s complaints went
on far too long. Finally, after she tried on the tenth gown, they found one everyone could agree on.

  Everyone, that is, except Grace.

  The gown appeared too expensive for her tastes. She much preferred something very simple and plain. But she was overruled. She would wear a gown of silvery-blue gauze with lace accents. Madam Yeats and Aunt Dorothea, as well as a number of other patrons in the shops, were all in agreement. The silver made all the other gowns look like peasant frocks in comparison.

  With all of their business completed at Madam Yeats’s shop, they had headed to the haberdashery for ribbons and trimmings. As with the earlier visits to the linen drapers, Aunt Dorothea was not satisfied with the selection in the first haberdasher they visited, so they were forced to visit multiple shops. Grace simply must have the best ribbons to place in her hair and on her bonnets. Nothing short of the best finery would do for Aunt Dorothea. And of course, following the visits to the various haberdashery shops, Aunt Dorothea had declared they simply must also see a milliner. Grace’s supply of bonnets would not suit. Following their previously set pattern, visiting one milliner was not sufficient for her aunt, so they made multiple stops.

  Finally, after what she was certain must have been three days’ worth of shopping all rolled into a single afternoon, they returned to the hotel for a spot of tea before they dressed for the evening.

  Grace jumped as she entered their suite and saw Lord Alexander seated across from Uncle Laurence in the parlor. The two men immediately rose upon their entrance. Servants brought in countless boxes and bags full of the purchases she and her aunt had made throughout the day.

  Lord Alexander glanced at her and smiled briefly before turning back to her uncle. “Thank you again, Laurence. You’ve been most kind and exceedingly helpful. I’ll take my leave of you now.” He inclined his head to the ladies before moving to the hallway.

  Grace sent a questioning look to her uncle from across the room as she stepped aside so Lord Alexander could walk past her. He’d called her uncle by his given name. No one but a close friend ever called him by his given name. Close friends, or family. Oh, dear.

  “Ladies, I do hope you have had luck with your shopping excursion.” Lord Alexander bowed his head to them again and walked away.

  Aunt Dorothea, as usual, became a flurry of words and motion. “Oh Laurence, we did have the most excellent luck today. I do believe we bought everything Gracie will need. And her gown for this evening! Oh, you will not believe your eyes when you see her in it. She is simply stunning. I didn’t think she could be more beautiful than she already is, but I was quite wrong.”

  She seated herself on the sofa and unpacked bags and boxes, turning the parlor into a state of disarray. “And you’ve visited with Lord Alexander. How delightful. I do hope your meeting with him was productive.”

  There appeared to be some underlying hint to him, a secret code only those two could interpret. Grace was unaware of any business her uncle might have with Lord Alexander, but she sensed anything it could be would not meet her definition of good, especially since the man left and called her uncle ‘Laurence.’

  “Yes my dear, our meeting went very well. Everything’s in order.”

  Aunt Dorothea sighed and sank back into the cushions.

  “Do you intend to show me all of your purchases, my dear, or would these be better unpacked in Grace’s chamber?”

  Grace flushed furiously when she looked down. The items her aunt had unpacked were the inexpressibles they had purchased.

  “Oh, lud. I don’t know what I could have been thinking.” Aunt Dorothea bundled the items again and handed them to Grace with an apology in her eyes. “Dear, you should go ahead and prepare yourself for this evening. There is no rest for the weary today. Off with you, now.” Aunt Dorothea shooed Grace into her bedchamber, carrying all of the purchases which she would need to dress for the evening.

  She dreaded attending the function. After what had transpired at the Pump Room that morning, she wanted to be anywhere but at an event full of gossips. She would receive looks of pity, of disgust, of shame. After the day she’d just experienced, she simply didn’t think she could handle it.

  But she couldn’t disappoint her aunt. She dressed herself with Tess’s help, making certain everything was as it should be. The maid styled her hair, winding the new silver ribbons through plaits and curls and giving her a more complicated coiffure than Grace was accustomed to wearing.

  She almost couldn’t recognize herself in the cheval mirror. The silver gown caused her eyes to sparkle in the candlelight, looking even more silvery than they typically did. Perhaps the ladies at Madam Yeats’s shop had been right to insist on the silver gown after all. She certainly felt more beautiful than she could ever remember feeling. It was quite irregular, to think of herself as beautiful or pretty.

  Just as quickly, she pushed the thoughts aside. She had no business thinking such thoughts. She was a ruined woman. No man should think those things about her, so why should she think them of herself?

  The one thing which might make this evening bearable was the possibility she wouldn’t see Lord Alexander. If she had any luck at all, he’d either spend the evening with Lord Rotheby or seek some other entertainment. Grace hoped he wouldn’t be there. She was ill prepared to face the scandal before society, but the man who had led her to such rash deportment as well. It would be more than she could bear.

  She took one last glance at herself in the mirror before she rejoined her aunt and uncle in the parlor. Aunt Dorothea was also dressed for an evening out, but Uncle Laurence had not changed his attire from earlier in the day. “Uncle, won’t you join us at the Assembly Room tonight?” Oh please, let him come too. If Uncle Laurence was there, Grace could feel more at her ease. He could rein in Aunt Dorothea.

  “I’m sorry, Gracie. I’ve promised to keep company with Lord Rotheby this evening. It seems Lord Alexander has other plans, and he didn’t wish to leave the earl alone.”

  Her heart pounded in her chest. What other plans did Lord Alexander have for that evening? Was that the reason for his earlier visit with her uncle—simply to request his assistance with Lord Rotheby? Please let it be something as simple and entirely unremarkable as that.

  She hoped beyond hope his plans did not include visiting the Assembly Room.

  But she also desperately hoped they did.

  Chapter Thirteen

  As Alex walked into the Assembly Room that evening, he made an effort to be seen. Quite unusual behavior for him, it was true. But tonight he would make an exception.

  After the morning’s incident, he must make a very public show of not only being seen, but also being seen with her. He wanted everyone present to understand there was a connection between them. Of course, creating such a connection became his primary task for the evening.

  Sir Laurence assured Alex that he and Lady Kensington were in full support of his efforts. He also corroborated that, as suspected, Lady Grace had yet to achieve her majority at only nineteen years of age, and therefore was at the mercy of her father. He’d asked Alex to not bother with seeking the approval of her father, as the man had taken a very standoffish approach to raising his daughter. It would be best, Sir Laurence said, to take her to Gretna Greene and be done with it, and then let Lord Chatham know after the fact.

  But Alex would not hear of it. If he was going to marry, he would do it the right way. Tomorrow, he was heading for London to ask the man for the right to marry his daughter. It was the only decent thing to do. She deserved far more than just decency.

  So tonight, for once, he would play the part of the dandy, if only in terms of his attire—but he did it for her. Everything must be perfect. Nothing less would do. For a brief moment, he wished he had a quizzing glass with him, but quashed the thought as soon as it came. That would be a touch too much.

  He’d dressed meticulously for the evening. His buff breeches and waistcoat were spotless, and set off nicely against the black of his overcoat. Thomas
had shined his Hessian boots twice so they would gleam in the candlelight. His beaver hat sat atop his head at a precise angle, not perfectly straight, but also not fully askance.

  Alex arrived fashionably late, to be certain Lady Kensington would have already arrived with his target in tow. The ballroom was filled with a large crowd. Dancing had yet to begin, but the orchestra was warming their instruments on the dais as fashionable people milled about. As he entered the hall, he bowed low to the Master of Ceremonies. Alex passed the man his card and waited for the formal announcement. He wanted as many people present as possible to take notice.

  “Lord Alexander Hardwicke!” the Master of Ceremonies boomed out over the crush of revelers. An instant hush encompassed the hall, followed by a growing series of murmurs. His plan, it seemed, was already at work. No doubt they were talking about him.

  “Thank you, sir. You are most kind.” Alex pretended indifference to the hushed whispers, the covert stares, and the blatant open-mouthed gawks, taking it all in, but showing no sign of caring. Surely this meant word of his exchange with Lady Grace had spread to everyone present, and would soon fall on the ears of those unaware. “Might you inform me of the whereabouts of Lady Grace Abernathy?”

  The Master of Ceremonies stared at him, open mouthed. He must also be aware. “My lord, I cannot be certain, but I believe she and her aunt are presently in the ballroom.” He held a pained expression on his face, a clear indication that he had told the truth, although he found it distasteful.

  Had Alex attained a rakehell’s reputation since the morning? Excellent. Even better than he could have asked. He crossed through the octagon room and into the ballroom, gliding through the crowd and nodding to acquaintances along the way. Once in the ballroom, he scanned the room for Lady Grace. He needed to speak with her before someone else drew him into conversation.