A Lord Rotheby's Holiday Bundle

by Catherine Gayle

  He paused to debate how much he ought to tell Char. She was only sixteen years of age, and the pain of their father’s death was still keen for her. But she deserved the truth “Char…the viscount…I believe he is dying.”

  Her eyes filled with unshed tears and she gathered a tentative breath. “He is ill?” The words were a mere whisper, barely more than a sigh.

  Alex placed his arm about her shoulders and drew her close to offer what comfort he could. “Yes. He has not spoken of it, but I suspect consumption.” The finality he felt upon speaking the words aloud surprised him.

  Her grip was a vise and her knuckles whitened. “But…but Alex. Why on earth would you allow him to travel all the way to London if he is in such a condition? Goodness, does he need anything? Should we call for a doctor?”

  Alex smoothed the back of his sister’s hand and gave her a gentle smile. “Have you ever tried to tell Lord Rotheby he could not do something he intended to do? Char, the man is as obstinate as a mule. He came to London to complete some business. My best guess is his business deals with his properties and their entailments, things of that nature.”

  “And you came back to London so he would not travel alone?” He could see the strain in her posture as she struggled to accept the news he delivered.

  “That is not the entire reason for our arrival. Char…the viscount traveled to support me.” A question settled heavy in the air between them. “I need to ask the Marquess of Chatham for his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  “You what? Marriage, Alex? Are you quite certain?” All of Char’s tension melted away as she regaled him with questions. “Who is she Alex? Is she quite beautiful? She must be a diamond of the first water, to have caught your eye. Oh, Mama will be so excited! Have you told her yet? I do hope not, I wish to see her face when she hears the news. Gracious, we shall have a wedding to plan. And Peter must throw an engagement ball. Do you think Mama will allow me to attend the ball? Oh, surely she must, just this once.”

  “Slow down, Char,” Alex said with a chuckle. “Nothing is settled yet. But yes, I am quite certain. Lady Grace will be my wife.”

  “Lady Grace? I shall quite enjoy having a sister named Grace.” Char’s eyes shone with excitement. “Have the banns been called yet?”

  Char rose and walked about her chamber, then rushed back to resume her seat at his side. He laughed at her inability to stay still.

  “No, Char. No banns yet. I must still speak with her father. And there is one other small problem.”

  “Problem? What sort of problem?” She walked away in feigned disinterest.

  “The sort involving Lady Grace having denied me. But that shall all be sorted out soon.”

  “She did not. How could she deny you?”

  Alex rose from the sofa and walked to the window. Charlotte’s chamber sat at the front corner of the house, looking out onto Grosvenor Square. A crested carriage with liveried outriders pulled into the drive.

  “They are home, Char. Shall we go down to greet them? I should like to tell the whole of my story only once. You can gloat to Sophie you know more than they, at least for the moment. It could make up somewhat for being left alone while they attend balls and such, shall it not?”

  “Oh yes, quite.” Char took his hand and tugged him into the hall, dragging when he fell too far behind.

  ~ * ~

  Alex sat amidst the majority of his family in the upstairs drawing room of Hardwicke House. Neil, his younger brother, was still playing cards at White’s that evening. And of course Richard was off in France or Portugal, or any number of other places where the British Army were fighting Old Boney. But Peter was present as the head of the family with their mother Henrietta at his side, and all three of their sisters found perches nearby to hear Alex’s news.

  He had already informed them all of his suspicions regarding the viscount’s health and regaled them with details of his journeys. But now he would tell them of Grace.

  Of course, as she had previously heard at least part of his story, Char smirked toward her elder sisters. Alex smiled over the silent exchange between the girls. No one would dare describe Char as mean-spirited, nor his other sisters for that matter. They all loved each other dearly, notwithstanding the occasional competition or familial argument. But they all loved a good competition.

  Peter sipped from his glass of port. Alex thought his brother looked exhausted and silently thanked him, yet again, for the encouragement to visit Somerton.

  “Alex, I cannot imagine Lord Rotheby incapable of managing his business in Bath. He had no true reason to come all the way to town.” Peter took another sip from his glass and eyed his brother over the top of the glass. “It is clear he chose to accompany you. So, why? What brought you to London?”

  Char remained in her seat, though she clearly desired to burst into the center of the room and shout out her news.

  Alex took pity on her and cut straight to the point. “I shall call on the Marquess of Chatham to request his daughter’s hand in marriage.”

  Cacophony broke out in the drawing room.

  “Did I not tell you, Sophie, Alex has such delightful news…is it not wonderful?”

  “Married? We shall host a wedding? Oh, my precious boy! Goodness, we ought to begin the arrangements at once.”

  “You knew that and you did not tell me, Char? You sneak, I shall never forgive you.”

  “Well, if Alex shall marry this summer, there is no reason to rush things for me, Mama. One more Season without accepting an offer will not hurt anything.”

  Over the din of the females, Peter caught Alex’s eye. “Chatham? You wish to marry Chatham’s daughter, Alex?” Concern etched his brow as he focused on Alex. The ladies noticed Peter’s tone and quieted, all eyes turned to the two brothers.

  Alex nodded, his mind working to grasp the meaning of Peter’s apprehension. “Yes, I shall marry Lady Grace,” he asserted with finality. There could be no misunderstanding amongst his family. He needed them all to be of one accord.

  Peter ran a hand over his chin. Several moments passed in silence, while each brother held the other riveted with his gaze and the ladies glancing from one man to the other.

  “Are you fully aware of the…the circumstances…surrounding Lady Grace’s departure from London, Alex?” Peter always chose his words with great care.

  If she was to be his bride, Alex wanted his family to know everything he could tell them. Well, almost everything. He would keep certain details of their encounter the night before he left Bath to himself.

  “I believe I am fairly well informed. Lady Grace was compromised in London, and the man who compromised her left her to deal with the shame alone. Chatham sent her to stay with her aunt and uncle in Somerton, to keep her away from the gossip mills.”

  A chorus of indrawn breaths filled the air as the female members of his family learned of the contempt his intended had suffered. Peter gave no outward reaction, no sign that Alex’s announcement made any sort of impact.

  “I further compromised her in Bath. We had a very public…er, discussion…in the Pump Rooms and I kissed her before everyone there.”

  His mother looked scandalized. “Alexander Jeremiah Hardwicke, you rake! I cannot believe you would behave in such a manner. Your father and I raised you to act with far more decorum—“

  Peter interrupted. “Mama, let him finish what he has to say.”

  She looked to have a far more detailed reprimand in store for him, but she allowed her son to continue.

  Alex waited for everyone to settle down once again.

  Char sat with her chin on her wrists and her elbows digging into her knees, obviously hanging on his every word and itching for the next juicy detail.

  Sophie maintained her exacting, correct posture and displayed a sense of ennui—which she then destroyed with the impatience of her fingers tapping against the arm of her chair.

  Peter had not changed positions at all, but continued to stroke the tip of his chin with a
bsent-minded fervor. “Go on, Alex. Finish your story.” He sent a warning look around to his sisters.

  “After I kissed her, she slapped me across the cheek.” Again, he was interrupted.

  “I daresay, you deserved no less, Alex.”

  “She slapped you? How dreadfully unbecoming.”

  “Good heavens, what a scene you caused. What I would not give to have seen it with my own eyes. I cannot wait to tell Theodora Marlborough! She will simply die from the scandal.”

  Peter held up a hand, a signal for peace. “Enough!” The sisters quieted once again, though Alex knew by now it would not last for long. He determined to finish his story as soon as possible so they could revel in their excitement.

  “That evening, I met Lady Grace at the Assembly Room and proposed.”

  “Oh Sophie, you will never guess what happened next,” Char blurted out. A stern look from Peter silenced her again.

  “She refused me.”

  Another refrain of gasps and mumbles filled the room. Alex continued with a raised voice before he could be interrupted again.

  “I made it clear to Lady Grace I had every intention of providing her with the protection of my name, that she would not suffer the same shame on my account. And I traveled here to meet with her father and officially request her hand in marriage.” He could see his sisters wished to interject their questions and exclamations yet again, so he pushed forward. “Lady Grace has not reached her majority yet.” Understanding dawned throughout the room of what he implied. For once, no one said anything for many minutes.

  Then Peter stood. “It is late. Alex has had several long days of travel. He needs his rest. Any more discussion on the matter will wait for morning.” Char started to object, but Peter stayed her with his hand. He turned to Alex. “Get some rest. We will talk more in the morning.”

  Thankful for the reprieve, Alex nodded.

  “And Alex…it is good to have you home.” Peter placed a hand on Alex’s shoulder and led him from the room before the girls could stop him again.

  It was good to be home, Alex thought. Very good.

  Chapter Sixteen

  The breakfast table of Hardwicke House buzzed with excitement. Lady Grace Abernathy appeared to be the conversation topic of choice, much to Alex’s consternation.

  He would prefer, in some ways, to go about his business and make the marriage a reality. But his family was not one to merely sit by and allow one of its members to handle such matters on his—these things soon became family affairs. He wouldn’t want his life to be any different.

  It was soothing, even when it meant constant interference he would sometimes prefer to do without. He sat back in his chair to answer his sisters’ questions.

  Char, of course, wanted specifics. “Alex, is she beautiful? Tell us how she looks.”

  He might as well indulge her. “She is very beautiful. Lady Grace has long black curls and eyes so light they are almost the color of ice—and she has the most perfect English rose complexion to her skin. She’s very small, too. I daresay the top of her head would only reach your shoulder, Char.”

  She smiled at his description, but begged for more detail. “And does she dress in all the most current fashions?”

  Leave it to Char to be more concerned with his bride-to-be’s appearance and clothing than her personality. “You might ask me questions about Lady Grace herself, you know. She’ll be part of our family soon. I am sure you’ll want to know of her interests and talents, wouldn’t you?”

  He was needling at her to procure a reaction. Char would love Grace, despite any flaw or affliction she may have. That was simply Char’s nature. But it was also in her nature to want every sort of detail a typical young lady not-quite-out in society ought to want.

  She scoffed at his rebuke. “Goodness, of course I want to know those details as well. I would get there in time, you know. You should have a bit more patience with me,” she scolded him, then returned to her previous luster. “So, tell me about Lady Grace’s clothes.” Char leaned forward, her eyes alight.

  Alex shook his head at the impertinence he both loved and loathed. “Her clothing—well, I wouldn’t say her gowns are the absolute height of fashion, but they are more than becoming on her. They’re modest, in pretty shades for her complexion. Soft.” He might have told too much with his last comment. If he knew her gowns were soft, he must have touched her. Better keep moving before Char picked up on the hint he’d dropped. “For anything more than that about her attire, you’ll have to observe for yourself. I’ve told you enough on the matter for today. But Char, when I bring Lady Grace to London, you should offer to go on a painting excursion with her. She’s an artist.”

  Thinking about watching Grace paint beside the Cary River in Somerton made him wish she was with him now, in London. He missed her company, though she usually was either silent or railing at him.

  “Oh, how lovely! Lady Grace and I shall paint together often.” Char’s elation emanated throughout the breakfast room. “When will you bring her to London? I do hope it will be soon.”

  Mama joined them in the breakfast room, and Alex was relieved to discover she would change the subject. He had enough on his mind without trying to answer all of his youngest sister’s questions.

  When they finished eating, Peter rose from the head of the table. “Alex, might I have a word with you?” Unlike their mother and sisters, Peter seemed less than overjoyed by his news. The duke maintained a dour expression as they moved from the breakfast room to his library.

  After the footman closed the door behind them, Peter seated himself behind his desk. “Have a seat.” Once Alex complied, he continued. “Do you know what you’re doing here? Have you met Chatham before? He is not the most honorable man.” Peter rubbed his fingers across his chin. “There have been rumors about your intended.”

  Alex’s ears perked up, but he refrained from reacting too soon. “I’ve not met Chatham before.” Did he want to know the specific rumors? He wasn’t certain. He stared out the open window and listened to raindrops hit the panes of glass for several moments. “What sort of rumors? Rumors about her being compromised before she left London?” He prayed that was the worst of it.

  “More than just compromised.”

  Alex’s head shot up.

  Peter held his gaze. “Lord Barrow made some claims one night at White’s, not long before she left Town. Rumors of her compromise at his hands had already been making their way through the gossip mill. His assertions added fuel to the flame. He claims that she initiated the act. He implied that she is fast—loose.”

  “Barrow?” Alex roared in pain, his only thought revenge. This was not his first encounter with the man, not by any means. “The bloody, licentious bastard, I’ll have him drawn and—”

  “Wait, Alex.” Agony flooded Peter’s face.

  Alex’s anger subsided by a degree, only to be replaced by fear. “There’s more?” He didn’t want to hear the answer.

  “Barrow absconded from the country. He has been gone since the day after he made his claims at White’s. No one knows where he went this time, nor do they know when to expect his return. Added to the gossip already floating about her after the broken engagement with Walsingham…well, it’s not a pretty picture. Things don’t look good for your Lady Grace.”

  Alex seethed in silence, ruminating over the information.

  After several moments, Peter continued. “And there is more yet.”

  “More? How can there be more? By Jove, is this not enough?” He could think of nothing more than his desire to draw Barrow’s cork, if not something more extreme than that. When he looked at his brother again, there was pity in his eyes.

  “Chatham. He’s been making waves.”

  “What in bloody hell does that mean?” Who cared about Chatham when Barrow needed to be dealt with?

  “He’s acting as though Lady Grace has been kidnapped. He claims to have the Bow Street Runners on the case, though I’m not certain that I woul
d believe him.” Peter rubbed his chin absentmindedly again. “Does she seem at all uncomfortable with where she is? Is there any reason to believe she has been taken against her will?”

  Was she uncomfortable? Kidnapped? “No. No, I don’t believe that could be true. But, wait…” Sir Laurence had suggested Alex take her to Gretna Greene.

  “Wait, what?”

  “Never mind. It’s nothing.”

  Peter raised a brow, but said nothing.

  Even if it were something, Alex needed to discover the truth on his own. No reason to have Peter suspecting an innocent couple of wrongdoing. Besides, Grace had arrived on the coach alone. No one brought her to Somerton. No, she hadn’t been kidnapped. So what was Chatham’s game? What did he hope to accomplish?

  Several moments passed in silence. “Alex, do you know if it is true? Barrow has a reputation for fabricating stories to suit his purposes. He could have only wanted to ruin Lady Grace, though what purpose her ruin might serve for him, I don’t know.”

  It took a moment for what Peter asked to sink in. “It’s true. I don’t know all of the circumstances, but I do know he tells the truth about the act having occurred.” He would be bowled over if Grace was the only innocent he had ruined, based on what he knew of the man.

  He moved his chair away from the hearth then resumed his seat. He felt over-warm with the adrenaline coursing through him. Alex trusted Peter more than nearly anyone else in his acquaintance, so he delved deeper into his suspicions. “She may have been ravaged. She won’t tell me.”

  Peter nodded slowly. “I was afraid of that. I wouldn’t put even worse crimes past Barrow. I don’t trust the bastard as far as I can throw him.”

  Tell me about it.

  Silence blanketed the room again, as the brothers determined their next step. The duke was the first to speak again. “You mustn’t waste time. Go to Chatham this morning. Do whatever you must to convince him to give his consent.” Peter paused for a beat. “He hasn’t protected his daughter well, has he?”