Wallflower (Old Maids' Club, Book 1)

by Catherine Gayle

  Shelton took his older brother’s bait with a devilish smile. “What else could possibly cause such an expression on his face? He looks...squeezed? No, that’s not quite right. Perhaps pinched.” A decided nod from Raynesford and the questioning eyes of Leith and Claremont (who had just joined the ever-growing party) confirmed Shelton’s word choice. “Pinched it is.”

  Just what Noah needed—more of the Shelton clan interrupting him. He ought to be finding a pretty young heiress and doing his best to cause her to swoon in delight over his charm and dashing good looks. He’d never have the chance if he couldn’t escape these gents, no matter how enjoyable he might find their company, or how much he’d prefer remaining with them than working on the task ahead of him.

  “Who is pinching whom?” asked Claremont, giving Shelton a familiar slap on the back. “I want to be involved. Unless we’re pinching one of you lot, of course.”

  Leith laughed, which tugged his crooked nose ever so slightly to the left. “And what, pray tell, might your lovely wife have to say about you pinching anyone save herself?”

  Claremont shrugged. “What Helen doesn’t know won’t hurt me.”

  “And how do you intend to keep her from finding out?” Raynesford asked dryly. “Wives know everything. What they don’t already know, they learn through one of their secret channels.” He sipped from the tumbler in his hand and creased his brow pensively. “They might bribe the servants. Somehow, servants always seem to know everything.”

  “All the more reason to avoid marriage in the first place,” Shelton interrupted. His response seemed altogether too chipper. “And while I hope ever so much to remedy the situation later this evening, no one present is currently being pinched. One could hardly tell as much, though, from looking at Devonport here.”

  “He looks perfectly content to me,” Raynesford interjected in his dour tone with hardly a glance. “At least he isn’t being dragged by his wife to a musicale tomorrow afternoon in Lady Kirkaldy’s salon.” A severe shudder seemed to course from his head straight down to the ends of his toes.

  Dash it all. Noah couldn’t imagine anything Raynesford would enjoy less—nor anything Noah’s sister and Raynesford’s wive, Elaine, would enjoy more, apart from spending an entire day in a room full of toddlers. If he didn’t believe wholeheartedly that Raynesford and Elaine were desperately in love, he’d question why they’d married in the first place, they were so terribly opposite in demeanor.

  Before he could offer an apology or commiseration for Raynesford’s impending afternoon of torture, Shelton interrupted the silence. “Perhaps that’s the conundrum, or at least something similar, is it Devonport? Is your mother dragging you along to some insipid social event? Or maybe a lady friend?” He looked around. Shelton’s eyes landed on a few young misses who were watching the group before returning to Noah.

  Claremont raised his head in the direction of one young lady in particular. “Miss Tollington has been watching you rather closely since your arrival. Perhaps she expects you to ask her to dance soon.”

  Four heads turned as one to look in the direction Claremont had indicated. A very pretty blonde wisp of a thing stood on the edge of the ballroom floor, staring boldly back at them with a come-hither look in her eyes. She hadn’t even bothered to try to conceal her wanton expression behind her fan.

  One side of Shelton’s mouth raised in a leering grin. “I’d say she wants far more than your name on her dance card. For that matter, I wouldn’t mind giving her a bit of what she’s looking for, myself.” Shelton’s hands moved about in a way that made it abundantly clear what he was thinking.

  Luckily they were still standing in a close circle. Noah hoped no one else had seen Shelton’s gestures.

  The others broke out in a raucous chorus of laughter at Shelton’s antics though, drawing a number of eyes from around the ballroom. Heat rose in Noah’s face. This wasn’t appropriate, not in the middle of a genteel ballroom, not in regards to an innocent young lady.

  But then Raynesford raised a hand. “We ought,” he said, using more force than was his wont and turning in particular to his brother, “to be more discreet in our topics of conversation.” Good. Raynesford could deal with his brother’s insensitive behavior and leave Noah out of it. Shelton scowled, but said no more.

  Noah pushed thoughts of his sister’s brother-in-law aside for the moment and let them instead return to the young lady they’d been discussing. “Tollington,” he murmured. “Isn’t Lord Tollington already halfway to debtor’s prison? That won’t do.”

  He regretted saying it aloud as soon as the words passed his lips. By gad, he’d intended to keep his private matters to himself. Now they’d press him for more.

  Sure enough, Leith leaned in closer, his eyes widening, though whether from excitement or concern, Noah couldn’t distinguish. “Won’t do? Why not?”

  Shelton chortled indelicately. The man really had no shame.

  Claremont shook his head briefly. “Seems a disgrace not to dance with a pretty thing like that just because her father is low on funds.”

  “You go dance with her then,” Noah said.

  “Afraid I can’t. Helen forbade me to dance with any unmarried ladies tonight. She seems to think I’m giving them the wrong impression for some reason. Is it my fault I’m more handsome by half than the lot of you combined?” Claremont ran his fingers through the side of his rich, auburn hair. “I think she’s green because of the way they look at me.”

  Raynesford chuckled, which startled them all. Noah couldn’t remember ever hearing such a sound of mirth from the man, not in the many years they’d known each other. “They won’t still be ogling you in a few more months. Your marriage is new. The novelty will wear off before a year’s out, and then you’ll be as nondescript to them as I am.”

  “You’re all off the point,” Shelton interrupted, crossing his arms over his chest in an almost menacing fashion. “Devonport, why won’t Miss Tollington do? Why does it matter if her father’s in debt? You’re the bloody Marquess of Devonport. You’ve got more properties than you know what to do with.”

  Apparently, none of the Shelton men had any intention of backing down from their line of questioning until they got the answer they were searching for. For once in his life, Noah wished he had a foul mouth. Cursing seemed entirely appropriate here.

  He closed his eyes for a moment. “If I could sell my properties, I would. Lord knows I’ve sold all that weren’t under entail.”

  Shelton started to interrupt with some random, incoherent spluttering, before Raynesford cut him off with a single glance.

  “When my father inherited the marquessate, it was already deeply in debt. The previous marquess, Father’s uncle, had a penchant for gambling above his means. Even with selling everything I could and cutting down to only the essential staff to keep my estates running, I’m barely holding my creditors at bay.”

  “Then why on earth,” cut in Raynesford, his voice low and unruffled, “did you offer such a substantial sum for Elaine’s dowry? And her sisters, as well? Good Lord, Devonport, you have five sisters. That’s a significant fortune you gave away. Wouldn’t that money have been put to better use in digging the marquessate out from the rubble?”

  “But they are my sisters,” Noah responded. What other reason did there need to be?

  The other four Shelton men stood staring at him, some with their jaws hanging agape, others with their eyes bulging. Leith shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other.

  Shelton’s eyes narrowed in consternation. “Surely they could have married with smaller dowries, though.” His voice made it sound as though they could have married well with almost nonexistent dowries, or maybe with no dowries at all. Not likely, with his contemporaries.

  Noah couldn’t believe that these men—all but one of whom had sisters of their own—were being so thick they couldn’t understand his obligation to his own. “I had to see to their futures.”

  “What of your future? I wou
ld have had Elaine, dowry or not,” Raynesford said quietly. “I love her. I believe I am not overstepping my position in saying the same for the gentlemen who married her sisters.”

  Raynesford might very well be right about that. But still, Noah had done what he thought best for his family at the time. Family had to come first. “What’s done is done. The point is that now I’ve got to marry, and soon—and I have to marry for money, however distasteful I find the idea. I need an heiress or a lady with a massive dowry settled upon her if I’m going to somehow avoid debtor’s prison myself. Miss Tollington won’t do. Any brilliant ideas on where I should start looking?”

  Claremont cocked his head slightly to the side with an introspective frown. “Well, I believe that Lady Hannah Bullfinch has a dowry of ten thousand. It would seem her father recognizes that she looks rather like a bull’s backside and therefore will be difficult to place, barring the incentive of some decent coin.”

  “Her personality matches her face though,” Leith said with his brow puckering. “I wouldn’t wish her on my worst enemy. Devonport is far from anyone’s enemy.”

  “What about Miss Jennings?” asked Raynesford. “She has no siblings, so she’ll inherit a vast portion.”

  Noah’s brow puckered. “Miss Jennings? I’m not sure I know her.”

  Raynesford pointed inconspicuously. “Over by the punch bowl. The brunette in white.”

  She was certainly pretty, but terribly young. “Has she just come out? What on earth can I talk about with a girl who is hardly out of the schoolroom?” But he really couldn’t afford to be overly selective. So far, she seemed like his best option.

  “Probably,” Claremont said. “But as young as she is, she’ll be eager to please. You won’t need to talk to her too much. Just get to business and secure the line.”

  Eager to please? Was that what he wanted in a wife? For some reason, he had allowed himself to entertain the idea of having a companion, someone whose company he would enjoy. Someone with whom he could share his life with, not someone who would try to do exactly what he wanted. He didn’t even know for sure what he wanted, so it would vex him to no end to have a wife trying to give that elusive something to him. Noah knew, without a doubt, he wanted a wife he could do more with than simply ‘secure the line.’ But what option did he have? The longer it took to find a suitable bride, the more ominous his situation seemed.

  “Right,” Noah said. He straightened his back and schooled his features into compliance. What characteristics should he try to assume? Charming. Amicable. Reputable. Time to make himself look like the perfect gentleman so that her chaperone would grant him an introduction. “I suppose I’d better be off to sign her dance card then.”

  He hadn’t taken two steps when Shelton’s voice carried over the din of the crush. “Have you all taken leave of your senses? What about Tabitha?”

  Noah’s feet froze in place, one of them in mid-stride. Tabitha? Lady Tabitha Shelton? Raynesford and Shelton’s sister?

  Surely, Shelton had to be joking. He’d never offer his sister up to a fortune hunter. No gentleman could do something like that to his sister, or for that matter to anyone he loved, and still call himself a gentleman. Good Lord, she was his twin! Slowly, painstakingly, Noah turned to face the group only moments before he’d been departing.

  Shelton didn’t appear to be joking. In fact, he looked as serious as an apoplectic fit. “Father’s just raised her dowry again,” he drawled. “How much do you still owe, Devonport?”

  Noah told them the amount beneath his breath, hoping they wouldn’t think less of him for it. It wasn’t his fault he was in this situation, after all. Not entirely, at least. No matter what, there wasn’t a lady in all of England who could have a dowry so great as that.

  “Perfect!” Shelton said. “Tabitha’s dowry will clear you of that, even with the amount Father will insist on having placed in trust for her. I’d wager she’ll be a damn sight more interesting to talk to for the rest of your life than Miss Jennings.”

  There was a lot of truth in that statement. Noah couldn’t pretend otherwise. He’d known Lady Tabitha for more than five years, since Raynesford had first started courting Elaine. For that matter, they’d always gotten on rather well.

  But no. He couldn’t. He couldn’t possibly use her in such a way. She deserved to be married because the gentleman offering for her loved her, because he wanted to marry her and spend his life with her, not because she had a dowry so large Croesus would be blue in the face from envy and the fact that the so-called gentleman needed funds.

  Raynesford narrowed his eyes, looking broodingly between Noah and where Lady Tabitha stood against the wall just across the way. “You would suit her,” he said in his typical matter-of-fact tone.

  Noah held his hands up before him. “I couldn’t possibly—”

  “You two already get on like a couple of magpies in a shade tree,” Claremont interjected. “She likes you. She talks to you. Tabitha wouldn’t be nearly as engaging with you if she wasn’t comfortable with you.”

  “But I can’t—”

  “She seems to suit you too,” Leith tossed in, “based on the way you look at her when you think no one’s watching.” Leith eyed him knowingly. “You watch her the way I...” His voice trailed off, but his eyes flickered briefly over to Lady Tabitha’s cousin, Miss Faulkner.

  Noah felt like he was drowning in the sea of their reasons. “But I don’t look at her—”

  Raynesford cut him off. “You do.”

  “And she is the solution to your problem,” Shelton said, pointing definitively across the ballroom. He had a triumphant smile plastered across his face. “She’s not a debutante—not by a mile. She’ll bring a heftier settlement into the marriage than any other lady you could find. She has more than three thoughts in her head, though I can’t for the life of me imagine why you care about that.” Shelton’s expression said that Noah was addled beyond redemption. “And clearly you already find her at least passably attractive. What are you waiting for? Go ask her to dance.”

  Noah looked to Raynesford, hoping for commiseration, but a grim expression of resigned determination was set in his brother-in-law’s eyes and the clench of his jaw. Claremont and Leith were both grinning, and Claremont even nodded in Lady Tabitha’s direction. By gad, they were all in this together, the four of them. For all he knew, they might have even planned to ambush him like this.

  But how could they have known he was financially strapped? They couldn’t have. Noah brushed the thought away. Whether it was planned ahead of time or not, they were conspiring against him now.

  Noah shook his head then turned to join the others in staring at Lady Tabitha. She gave a tiny jump before staring back at him across the ballroom floor. A sleek, soft green gown hugged her curves in ways that sent blood straight to his loins. It wasn’t overly revealing, not like most ladies tended to wear these days—indeed, it was quite the opposite of the current fashions. The bodice covered her rounded bosom, leaving his imagination to conjure the luscious mounds of flesh that strained against the fabric. When she moved, the silk tugged against curvaceous hips that flared out from her waist before falling gracefully back into place.

  What he wouldn’t give to place his hands on those hips and draw her near.

  “That look,” Leith said, jerking Noah back to the conversation. “That’s the look I’ve been talking about. Like you want to find a private little alcove somewhere and—”

  “That’s my sister you’re talking about, Leith,” Raynesford said. “Watch it.”

  Noah forced his eyes up to Lady Tabitha’s face and was startled to discover her silvery grey eyes staring back at him with a question burning at their core. He had to admit to himself, he could happily stare into her eyes for hours. However, it didn’t seem altogether prudent to admit as much to Raynesford at the moment.

  “And that’s my sister you’re devouring with your eyes, Devonport.”

  “Yes,” Noah replied. His voice crack
ed. His mouth felt dry. Try as he might, he couldn’t seem to form any more of a response.

  Raynesford just looked at him appraisingly.

  “Perhaps he ought to go ask her to dance,” Shelton said. “Since we are all in agreement that he enjoys looking at her. He could look at her more closely that way.”

  “Yes,” Raynesford said. “I think Devonport ought to do just that. And quickly.” He clapped a hand on Noah’s shoulder and gave a little push. Noah walked blindly across the ballroom toward Lady Tabitha—the only person that existed in his line of sight anymore.

  “But don’t let her know you need money,” Shelton said conspiratorially as Noah bemusedly walked away. “She loathes fortune hunters. There’s nothing she abhors more. Except, perhaps, for me.”

  Well, there was a cheerful thought.

  Chapter Three

  Tabitha turned to scour the ballroom. “Some flighty young thing,” she said to Jo. “Pretty. She’ll have to be pretty. Probably a blonde, but he might go for a brunette. Clear complexion. And none too bright. Toby wouldn’t have any idea what to do with a lady who can think for herself.”

  “Aren’t you being a little bit harsh on him?” Jo said on a laugh. “He is your brother, after all.”

  “Precisely. He’s my brother. My twin brother, in case you’ve forgotten. I rather think I know him better than just about anyone else in all of England.”

  Tabitha raised herself up on her tiptoes to get a better look at the sea of silly, young things in their pastel confections. “Oh, damn and blast. I can’t see well enough from here. I think I might have to venture out a bit.” She took a tentative step around the potted plant directly before her and moved closer to the fringes of the dance floor. “Stand in front of me and block me from Oglethorpe’s view, will you?”