She laughed. “Unfortunately, as prone as he is to mischief, I fear he’ll have great need for the art of apology in the future.”
“He’s a good lad, overall,” Blackbourne said and was rewarded by a flicker of appreciation in Amanda’s eyes, but she quickly shifted her gaze toward her son and his new tutor.
“Shall we accompany David and Thomas back to the house, my lord?” she asked. “Like David, I find that I’m hungry. I would be pleased to have you join me for some refreshments.”
Although he suspected Amanda was attempting to end their tête-à-tête, Blackbourne agreed to her suggestion with good grace. After all, he reasoned, within a few days she would be living in London and his opportunities for flirtation would be almost limitless.
For one thing, he intended for Amanda to reside alone in the Willowvale town house. She was, after all, a widow, and while the high sticklers of the ton would no doubt prefer that she have a live-in companion, they could not condemn her for living alone as long as his aunt expressed her approval.
And she would. Blackbourne had few doubts about that. For although his aunt Cordelia had adored his half brothers and detested him, he knew her financial situation well. Moreover, he knew her weaknesses, which meant that he possessed a certain degree of power over her—power he would now exercise to force her to ease Amanda’s entry into the ton.
He smiled to himself, amazed at the extent to which he now looked forward to returning to London and helping Amanda face down the people who had snubbed her when she’d tried to mingle with the ton in the past.
Chapter Nine
Blackbourne’s first chore upon returning to London was to call on his aunt Cordelia. She had been his father’s sole sibling and the two had been close. Although Blackbourne had never known his grandfather, the fourth marquess, judging from the tales the older servants in Bourne Hall told about the man, he had been both vicious and arrogant. Apparently his brutality has been passed along to his son and his arrogance to his daughter.
Blackbourne could think of no other reason for his aunt being such a stickler for propriety, but in any case, she’d made a name for herself among the ton. At least half of the beau monde actively feared her acerbic tongue and the other half simply avoided her whenever possible.
Still, her patronage would be Amanda’s fastest way to achieve acceptance, and Blackbourne felt he had some claim on his aunt’s time. Thus, on his first morning back in London, he made his way to her town house. When her footman opened the door, he took one look at Blackbourne’s expression and stepped to one side. “Lady Cordelia is in the library, your lordship.”
Blackbourne acknowledged the information with a nod, then strode to the library door. His aunt sat alone with an open book in her lap. When she looked up and saw him, she closed her book. “I wasn’t expecting a visit from you. What do you want?”
He stepped into the room and bowed. He knew, of course, that his aunt had always considered his mother and him beneath her notice, but he’d prefer to conduct his business in a friendly manner if possible.
“You’re looking well, my lady. Are you enjoying the Season thus far?”
Her expression remained remote. “I have no wish to exchange pleasantries with you, nephew. I assume you have some business with me. If so, please state it.”
Blackbourne clamped down on his temper. He’d be doing Amanda no favors if he alienated his aunt. “I have a favor to ask of you, my lady.”
Her eyes narrowed. “And what might that be?”
“I am guardian to the young Earl of Willowvale and I am attempting to ensure that when he comes of age, he will be accepted by his peers. His mother, as you may know, was not to the manner born and she is in need of a lady to help her face down the lionesses of the ton.”
His aunt curled her lip. “I have no doubt she is in need of help. I recall when her husband tried to foist her upon society soon after they were married. She was a pretty enough girl but she had little to say for herself. I could help her, but I have no desire to do so. The favor you requested is denied. You may go.” She opened her book and turned a page.
Blackbourne raised his brows slightly. It was as he had feared. Now he’d be forced to resort to bribery. He stepped to the center of the room and made a show of looking around. “Your town house is very nice as such places go, but the Blackbourne estate has no need of two town houses and I’m quite happy with my own. I might as well put this one on the market. Of course you’re welcome to stay until a sale goes through.”
Cordelia looked at him with a flicker of concern in her eyes. “You can’t sell this house. I’ve lived here for the last thirty years.”
“Ah, but the house doesn’t belong to you. It belongs to the Blackbourne estate and I’m now head of the family. If I wish to sell a property that is not entailed, I can do so. And this town house is not entailed. I checked.”
His aunt laid her book on the table beside her and stood. A half smile lifted the corners of her lips. “Since you’re so concerned with the Blackbourne estate, you’ve no doubt noticed that this house is getting shabby. If I were going to lend aid to the countess, the house would need to be redecorated, and I would require an entire new wardrobe so as not to reflect poorly on the estate when I escort the countess to ton functions.”
Blackbourne nodded. “That can be arranged. Of course I’d want your word that you would do all in your power to see that the Countess of Willowvale is accepted in all quarters that matter.”
A flicker of triumph appeared in her eyes. “I’ll see to it that the countess is invited to all the best functions.”
“And you will accompany her and be cordial?”
“I will.”
Blackbourne nodded again. He’d achieved what he wanted. He’d known his aunt would make him pay a hefty price, but it was a cost he was prepared to bear. “You’ll need to send a note around telling me what you will require in the line of funds. I’ll have my man of business handle the transaction.”
His aunt shot him a gloating smile. “That’s quite acceptable. Just bring the countess to me at the earliest opportunity so I can become acquainted with her.”
“Very good. She should be arriving sometime in the next two weeks. Until then, good day.” He made his bow, turned and hurried away from his aunt’s presence. When he stepped outside, he pulled in a deep breath, feeling somehow as though he’d been deprived of some essential element of life while in his aunt’s company. He hoped to God that he wasn’t doing Amanda a serious disservice by placing her within his aunt’s orbit.
His next destination was the town house of the Clemmons family for a visit he couldn’t help but dread. While he knew Anthony would welcome him, he wondered what welcome, if any, he would receive from other members of the family. They’d been his salvation when he was a boy, allowing him to practically live at their house when his own father and half brothers were making his life miserable at Bourne Hall, but many years had passed since then and he was no longer sure how they might feel toward him.
The fact that the Clemmons’ butler greeted him politely seemed a good omen to Blackbourne. He was actually beginning to feel optimistic until he was conducted to a drawing room filled with the cream of the aristocracy. He had, he realized, arrived while the family was entertaining visitors, but it was too late to turn back. Pausing in the doorway, he felt dozens of pairs of eyes lock onto him, even as conversation in the chamber faltered and then stopped completely. He could not help wondering how many of these people had believed Henry’s lies about him.
“Oh my,” a feminine voice suddenly shrieked. Blackbourne glanced toward an attractive young woman who was pushing past the dandies clustered around her. “Lord Blackbourne,” that young lady cried, her tone imbued with delight. “My old friend.”
Blackbourne had just come to the realization that this pretty girl with the dancing blue eyes and the strawberry-blonde hair was Anthony’s little sister when she hurried across the room and dropped him a quick curtsy. An in
stant buzz of conversation provided enough cover to allow her to lean close and whisper to him. “If we were not among this stuffy company, I’d give you a hug.”
“Still a hoyden, I see,” Blackbourne responded softly while suppressing a smile.
“Ungallant, my lord,” Miss Clemmons complained, tossing her head coquettishly. “But true,” she added with a giggle that robbed her of all claims to sophistication. “What a delight to see you. I must now address you by your title, I know, but I will always think of you as Anthony’s boyhood friend, Garath. You were a handsome lad then and you are even more handsome now.”
“And you have grown into a beautiful young woman.”
“Much better, my lord,” she said with sparkling eyes. “I had feared for a moment that you would fail to fall in love with me at first sight.”
“But I did not fall in love with you at first sight,” Blackbourne replied without hesitation.
Although her eyes still sparkled, Judith made a small moue of displeasure. “How so, unkind sir?”
“My first sight of you, minx, was when you were four days old and as bald as—”
Judith’s delighted laughter interrupted him. “Naughty man,” she said, tapping him on the arm with her fan. “But fascinating still. Women love a rake, you know. Ah, here comes Mama to greet you.”
Mrs. Clemmons’ greeting was less effusive than her daughter’s but just as sincerely welcoming. Within five minutes, she had introduced Blackbourne to all of the guests with whom he was not already acquainted. Although he intercepted several curious glances, he did not encounter a single snub, and half an hour later, when he took his leave, he’d received a dozen invitations ranging from a boxing match to a formal ball.
The remainder of that week brought assurances that the ton, for the most part, had decided to accept him without reservation. In fact, based on the number of invitations that soon resided on his desk, most hostesses felt his presence at their ball or rout or Venetian breakfast was a prerequisite for its success.
But it was not only the hostesses who appeared to value Blackbourne’s company. Not a few mothers of hopeful debutantes had been eyeing him, and fully half a dozen married ladies had subtly indicated their interest. It was quite understandable, Blackbourne reflected, that he could not now remember even one of their names.
Amanda had sent word that she would be arriving in less than a week.
* * * * *
“Thank you so much, Becky, for agreeing to accompany me to London.” Amanda smiled at her former governess, who sat opposite her in the carriage.
Rebecca Thornton’s answering smile revealed what many people considered to be her only attractive feature. Amanda was not one of that number. Although she, too, had first been attracted to her former governess because of that lady’s flawless smile, she had soon grown to love each of Becky’s less-than-perfect facial features simply because they were an integral part of the most selfless and affectionate person Amanda had ever known. Becky’s too-long nose had never once twitched in dismay because she had been reduced to working for a merchant, nor had her pale blue eyes ever reflected even a flicker of condescension for her employer, despite the fact that Rebecca Thornton was distantly related to a duke.
“I am the one who should be expressing my thanks, Amanda dear,” Rebecca said. “You have rescued me from a most unpleasant situation.”
Amanda merely nodded. She was well aware of the misery Rebecca had endured over the past few years—not because Becky’s frequent letters had ever contained a single complaint about her employers but because Amanda had become adept at reading between the lines. She had been able to judge that Rebecca’s charges were ill-mannered brats, and Amanda had racked her brain trying to find a way to rescue her friend without infringing upon her pride.
For, as Amanda had often reflected, if Rebecca Thornton possessed a flaw, it was her relentless pride. Having been born and raised a lady, only to be passed over during her one Season in London, Becky had chosen to earn her way in the world rather than becoming a dependent of the duke who had turned his back on her mother for marrying a poor curate. Her first and longest position had been as Amanda’s governess, and if Amanda had had any say in the matter, Rebecca would have stayed on in the household long after Amanda had left the schoolroom. Rebecca had gently but firmly refused to remain in a position that reeked of charity.
“Nevertheless, I am in your debt for agreeing to serve as my companion,” Amanda insisted.
“Nonsense, my dear. I would never have forgiven you had you not contacted me. After all, despite what Lord Blackbourne told you, the ton would not approve of your living alone in London, even though you are a widow.”
Amanda nodded. “I knew you would know how to advise me and I am so very happy you will be with me. Your moral support may well preserve my sanity in the weeks to come.”
“I understand why you’re nervous, my dear, and I admire your willingness to make this effort for David’s sake. Still, I cannot help feeling that something more than fear of the ton is bothering you. Can you not share your real concerns with me?”
A weak smile lifted the corners of Amanda’s lips. “I could never hide anything from you, Becky. But I hesitate to speak because I am so uncertain of my suspicions.”
“Which are?” Rebecca demanded in her most commanding governess tone.
Amanda took a deep breath. “I am confused about the Marquess of Blackbourne’s motives. Sometimes he appears to dislike and distrust me. Other times he is friendly and even, on one occasion, seemed flirtatious. I told you about that, did I not?”
“Yes, you did, my dear. I wish David had not chosen that particular moment to experiment with gravity by dropping a scone off the balcony. Still, I would assume that prior to being interrupted, Lord Blackbourne had planned to say something complimentary about your eyes. Perhaps he intended to commence a courtship, although if that is so, I fear his method lacked a bit in originality.”
Amanda shook her head. “I’m sure a courtship is not what he had in mind. Sometimes I imagine he has some nefarious plans for me. After all, he was a friend of Oliver’s and thus probably heard nothing good about me.”
Rebecca pursed her lips for long seconds before relaxing enough to speak. “I would not wish to see you hurt again, Amanda. Perhaps we should ask the coachman to turn around and take us back to Willow Place.”
“No,” Amanda said quickly. “I would despise myself if I turned back now. I owe David at least this one attempt to establish myself in London.”
“I think you are making a wise decision, my dear.” Rebecca’s smile appeared a bit too bright. “Although I have not yet met Lord Blackbourne, I cannot but wonder if he is not one of those men who attempts to hide a soft heart beneath a gruff exterior. After all, he has gone far beyond mere duty by encouraging you to take your rightful place in society. And why, I must ask, would he suggest that his aunt sponsor you if his motives are suspect?”
“Already you are worth your weight in gold to me, Becky. Without your wisdom, I fear I would never see beyond the end of my nose. You are right, of course. If Blackbourne’s intentions were dishonorable, he would not want his aunt to meet me, let alone to sponsor me.”
“I am glad I was able to help, my dear. You will have enough on your mind during these coming days without worrying that Lord Blackbourne’s motives are less than honorable.”
Amanda agreed and then laid her head against the squabs in a pretense of wanting to rest. She was not tired, but she was aware that Becky, who was not a good traveler, would not feel at liberty to nap unless she thought Amanda was also doing so. Besides, Amanda welcomed the opportunity for some quiet time to think.
She should have been reassured by Becky’s reasoning about Blackbourne, yet she was not. She simply did not know what to make of the man. She had detected many differing emotions whenever his gaze rested upon her, emotions varying from animosity to desire, from hostility to tenderness. But often, she was certain, she had seen passio
n flickering deep within his eyes.
Still, he had yet to give her a valid reason for distrusting his motives. Certainly she could not fault him for wanting to do his duty by David.
After a few minutes, Rebecca’s soft breathing indicated she had fallen asleep, so Amanda lifted her head from the squabs and turned to stare out the coach window at the passing scenery. At last she admitted to herself the real reason behind her disquietude. She was very much attracted to Blackbourne, an attraction so strong, she was afraid she could not keep hidden the response that flared within her each time he looked at her.
At the same time, she had promised herself never again to become involved with a member of the aristocracy, and Blackbourne, she was certain, was more dangerous than most. The best she could hope for was to spend as little time as possible in his company. And surely that would not be so difficult to do once he had introduced her to his aunt. Then Lady Cordelia would take over and Blackbourne, hopefully, would make himself scarce.
Chapter Ten
Amanda would not have dreamed that returning to London could have such a strong effect on her, but when the coach wended its way into narrow city streets, nostalgia inundated her. The cries of street vendors, the clatter of wheels on cobblestones, and the malodorous smell of the city, familiar from her childhood, whirled her backward in time. She slid to the edge of her seat and stared out the window with an increasing sense of having come home.
“What is it about this city,” Rebecca asked, “that so immediately sets it apart from every other place on earth?”
Amanda sat back with a satisfied sigh. “Everything,” she said. “It is a unique blend of opposites. I am so pleased to be returning. What about your feelings, Becky? Are you glad to be back in London?”
Rebecca’s face was brightened by her exquisite smile. “Yes, my dear, I must admit that I am. I haven’t seen your town house, you know. Where is it located?”
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