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A Marriage of Necessity

Page 12

by Tarah Scott


  Valan tugged her out of her assailant’s reach. “This ‘little pigeon’ is otherwise engaged.”

  The man’s face contorted in rage. “She is mine. I’ve spent the evening with her. She owes me.”

  Valan glanced where he’d last seen the beauty on the dance floor. Gone. No doubt, claimed by the young wolf. With a sigh, he returned his attention to Hesston. “Ownership is a matter of perspective. As she has ruined a very expensive waistcoat, I believe she owes me.”

  She tugged in an effort to break free. Valan held tight and nodded at a passing waiter.

  “My claim supersedes yours,” Hesston said as the waiter stopped beside them.

  Valan set his wine glass on the waiter’s tray.

  “I d-do no’ belong to either of y-you,” the girl said.

  The waiter frowned. Valan ignored him and turned curious eyes on her. “Where are you from, child?”

  “That is none of your c-concern,” she said.

  “Perhaps not,” he replied, “but indulge me.”

  She shook her head.

  “Would you rather go with this man?” He nodded at Hesston, whose face reddened.

  “She is mine,” the viscount growled.

  “Patience,” Valan said. “She may choose to go with you, in which case I will not interfere.”

  “You have no right to interfere, at all,” Hesston snapped.

  Valan turned cold eyes on him. “Even you can wait sixty seconds.” He looked at the girl and lifted a brow in question.

  She glanced at Hesston, then looked back at him and shook her head. “N-nae.”

  “There you have it,” he said. “Even at Lady Peddington’s Midnight Ball, a lady is free to choose her companions.”

  Hesston cast a disgruntled look at her. “Dumb bitch,” he muttered.

  She lifted her chin. “I would rather be dumb than cruel.”

  The remark earned her a disdainful look from a woman strolling by on the arm of a man.

  Hesston again lunged for her. Valan stepped between them. “You’re drunk, Hesston. Go home before you irritate the wrong person.”

  “Like you?” he sneered.

  Valan shrugged. “I am not the best shot in Edinburgh.”

  “Damn right, you’re not,” he growled.

  “I am more likely to set a runner on you,” he said.

  Hesston’s eyes widened. “They hunt criminals. I have never committed a crime in my life.”

  “That is a matter of perspective.”

  A vicious glint lit Hesston’s eyes. “If that is so, then one might contend that you stepped outside the law on at least one occasion. Last I heard, marriage to an underage woman is against the law,” Hesston said.

  Ah, the viscount had heard that Valan’s old nemesis had returned to Edinburgh just today. Gossip traveled fast when Society smelled blood.

  Valan gave a bland smile. “Then I am fortunate not to have committed that crime.”

  “You tried hard enough,” Hesston declared.

  “Even I do not always succeed,” Valan remarked.

  “You succeeded at winning your fortune in a card game,” he snarled. “That is highly illegal.”

  “A friendly game of cards is never illegal,” Valan said, then added before he could reply, “The important point to remember, my dear viscount, is that runners give an ear to high-ranking peers.”

  The man’s face twisted into a scowl. “You think well of yourself.”

  Valan angled his head.” I am on excellent terms with Bow Street.”

  Hesston took a step back. “You pay them well, is what you mean.” He sneered at the girl. “A bit of muslin isn’t worth this much trouble.”

  “I am no bit of muslin,” she retorted.

  Hesston turned, stumbled past a group of men, then hurried away.

  Valan looked down at the young lady. “You cost me a great deal tonight.”

  Her brow furrowed. “The cost of that waistcoat is a pittance for a man like you.”

  He thought of the brown-haired beauty. “Money is not the only thing of worth in this world, child.”

  “I am no’ a child.”

  He arched a brow. “Pray tell, how old are you?”

  “Nineteen.”

  “A nineteen-year-old girl who nearly got herself accosted by a rather nasty viscount.”

  “Release me.” She yanked the wrist he still gripped.

  He started when something pricked his wrist. Valan drew her hand upward. She yanked harder and nearby guests glanced their way. Valan offered them a chilly smile, then urged the girl back three paces nearer the alcove.

  “I beg your pardon,” she began, then broke off when he tightened his grip.

  He turned her hand over and forced her fingers apart. A modest diamond stick pin balanced halfway across her palm.

  Valan looked at her and raised a questioning brow. “That is a gentleman’s pin, if I am not mistaken.”

  Her mouth thinned in a mutinous line.

  “Shall I call Viscount Hesston back and ask if he has lost a diamond pin?” he asked.

  Her eyes widened. “Nae. D-do not do that. Please.”

  Valan lifted the pin from her palm then released her. “I assume, then, the good viscount did not give this to you as a token of his, er, undying love?”

  “Undying love?” she scoffed. “That man loves only himself.”

  He repressed a smile. “Forgive me, but I am curious as to how you came to be in possession of his pin. It’s unlikely he removed it in order to disrobe. Removal of his cravat would not be necessary to—”

  “He did not give it to me,” she cut in.

  “Then you slipped it from his cravat when he kissed you?”

  She lifted her chin. “Ladies do not allow strange men to kiss them.”

  “How wonderful to know you recognize some conduct befitting a lady. I suggest you remember that when next a man asks you to accompany him to an alcove.”

  She dropped her gaze. Ah, he had her. She slanted a look up at him through her lashes and it was easy to see why she had captured Hesston’s attention. Her innocence was a lure few men could resist. She extended a hand toward him and stepped forward. Then tripped. She cried out and collided with him. His lapel tugged downward when she grabbed him and Valan caught her.

  He set her at arm’s length. “That is the second time this evening you have landed in my arms.” He tugged his cravat back into place, then felt the knot in an effort to assess the damage. “Perhaps we should be formally introduced before a third encounter?” Valan paused, then felt along the length of the cravat. His pin— He lowered his hands to his sides and leveled an assessing gaze on her. “My pin, please.”

  Her eyes sparkled as she opened her left hand. His ruby pin lay on her palm.

  Valan took the pin. “It is not often I am shocked, but you have managed to shock me.”

  The laughter in her eyes vanished and her back went ramrod straight. “A gentleman would give me a head start.”

  He paused while slipping both pins into the front pocket of his coat. “A head start?”

  “Before ye call Bow Street.”

  A corner of his mouth twitched again, harder. He removed his hand from his pocket. “You are safe, my child. I do not set Bow Street on the scent of young ladies.”

  She studied him as if uncertain, then her expression cleared, and she flashed a brilliant smile. “You are kind—despite the austere face.” Before he could reply, she added, “Admit it, once you discovered the pin missing, you would have assumed you lost it by accident and would no’ have suspected me—just as that evil viscount will not.”

  “Fortune favors you on that score,” Valan said. “Hesston would not hesitate to have you arrested—if, that is, you failed to comply with his demands.”

  She frowned. “Demands? Oh, you mean, he would make me his mistress.”

  “Nothing so elevated as that, but never mind. Dare I ask how you came to have this, er, talent?”

  She shrugg
ed, but a steel determination underlay the nonchalance. “A woman develops skills necessary to survive.”

  “Aye,” he agreed. “Women are very adept at surviving. I take it, then, you need the money.”

  She frowned. “I do not steal for money. Well, not for myself. By-the-by, please return my pin.”

  He lifted a brow. “Your pin?”

  “It certainly isn’t yours,” she said.

  “Neither is it yours,” he said.

  “Finders keepers.”

  “Is that what you call your talent, ‘finding’?”

  She scowled. “You don’t need it.”

  “My dear, if you pawn this pin, you will surely find yourself hunted by Bow Street. Unless—tell me, have you already a relationship with a pawn broker?”

  She gave him a haughty stare. “I do not.”

  “Then we shall not begin now.”

  She shook her head. “Everyone thinks they know what is best for me. I don’t not want—”

  Valan grimaced. “Pray, say no more. Surely, Miss Peddington taught you not to use double negatives in a sentence.”

  She dropped her gaze. “Aye, she did.”

  “Will you throw away every penny your father spent to send you here by speaking like a common fishwife?”

  “M-my mother sent me here.”

  Valan regarded her. “Do you only stutter when you’re afraid?”

  Her cheeks reddened even as her chin lifted. “I cannot help it. If you don’t like it—” her cheeks pinked more “—then you are no gentleman.”

  “Your judgment of what constitutes a gentleman is sorely misguided.” She opened her mouth to reply, but he lifted a hand, palm out. “Please, we will save that discussion for another time. I happen to agree. You cannot help the stutter. You can, however, choose the words you speak. I suggest you make a habit of choosing them more carefully.”

  Movement beyond the girl’s shoulder drew Valan’s attention. He recognized the tall man who approached. “Wedded bliss losing its luster so soon?” Valan asked when Sir Stirling James reached them.

  Stirling grinned. “Not at all.” He looked pointedly at the young lady.

  “I cannot make introductions,” Valan said. “I don’t know the young lady’s name.”

  “Then allow me.” Stirling bowed. “Miss Jeanine Matheson, I am Sir Stirling James, and this is his Lordship, the Marquess of Northington.”

  She extended her hand and Valan bowed over it. “A marquess?” she said. “You did not tell me you were a peer.”

  “You did not ask,” he said, then looked at Stirling. “Do you know all the young ladies? Never say you come here often.”

  Stirling shook his head. “I saw ye two together. Honoria told me who she was.”

  “Ah,” Valan intoned. “It is Lady Peddington you came to visit.”

  “Honoria and I are old friends,” Stirling said. “Not that kind of old friends,” he added when Valan started to reply. “But if we were, the past is the past.”

  Valan angled his head. “As you say.”

  “You knew Lady Peddington before she started the school?” Miss Matheson asked.

  Stirling smiled. “Indeed, I did.”

  “I want to have a school like this someday,” she said.

  “Good God, why?” Valan asked.

  “To be an independent woman. Lady Peddington says a lady will do best if she finds a nice gentleman to care for her. But that is not what she did. She started the school. She makes her own money and spends it any way she pleases.”

  “Much responsibility comes with running a business,” Valan said.

  She waved her hand dismissively. “Running a gentleman’s household is just as big a responsibility.”

  “When a lady has a gentleman to look after her, she has someone to care for her should something go wrong,” he said.

  She frowned. “I have known too many ladies whose husbands do not take care of them.”

  “She has you there, Northington,” Stirling said.

  “That she does,” Valan said. “On that note, I shall say goodnight.”

  “Leaving so early?” Stirling asked.

  “Aye. The hunt is finished for tonight.” He looked at the young lady. “Good evening, Miss Matheson.”

  She took a step toward him. “Must you go?”

  He flashed a bland smile. “Old gentlemen need their rest.”

  She grimaced. “You are not old.”

  “Old enough.”

  “The choice of gentlemen to dance with has dwindled,” she said. “I hoped perhaps…”

  “Perhaps his lordship will dance with you.” He nodded at Stirling.

  She frowned at Stirling. “Lordship? You introduced yourself as Sir Stirling James.”

  “He is both,” Valan said. “The marquess suffers an unnatural modesty. He seldom admits his title.”

  “The title is a courtesy, and hardly signifies,” Stirling said.

  Valan glimpsed Hesston talking with Lady Peddington near the far right wall, not far from a cluster of ladies. Valan returned his attention to Miss Matheson. “The marquess is probably the only gentleman present. If, that is, he’s still a gentleman.”

  Stirling chuckled. “You would have to ask Chastity.”

  “Chastity?” she asked.

  “His wife,” Valan said.

  “You’re married?” The young lady wrinkled her nose. “Then it will not do for me to dance with you.”

  “You are refreshingly forthright,” Stirling said.

  “She is naïve,” Valan said. “A married man has his uses.”

  She narrowed her eyes. “Are you married?”

  “Nae, and I have no wish to be. Goodnight, Miss Matheson. Sir Stirling.” He bowed and left.

  GET YOUR COPY NOW

  Also by Tarah Scott

  The Marriage Maker Series

  Worth of a Lady

  No one guessed that an innocent would bring the Devil of Delny to his knees…

  Spinster Chastity Hamilton is the Duke of Roxburgh’s heir. Her father insists she marry. She insists that the man who wins her hand must first find matches for her three younger sisters. Sir Stirling James takes up the challenge, and the sisters are shocked when he announces the engagement of their youngest sister to the Devil of Delny.

  When Quin Ramsey’s surrogate brother Sir Stirling James informs him he is to wed the fourth daughter of a lesser duke, he refuses. But when he waltzes with the lovely innocent, he realizes that he wants no other man to waltz with her

  The Marriage Wager

  He lost at cards, but won at love…

  Buccaneer Frasier Gordon is lucky at cards, and keeps a woman in every port. The stakes in a card game turn high, when his old friend Sir Stirling James wagers the hand of a dukes’ daughter against the fastest frigate in Scotland.

  Who knew the turn of one card would change his fortune forever?

  A Lady by Chance

  He bargained for a lady, but the hoyden stole his heart…

  Signing a wedding contract for the third daughter of a duke sight unseen is the first impulsive thing by-the-book Navy Lieutenant Patrick Chalmers has ever done. When he arrives on his wedding day to claim his bride, he never dreams the beautiful woman walking down the aisle is the spitfire he saved from falling out of a tree.

  How to Catch an Heiress

  It takes cunning to catch an heiress…and a handsome face doesn’t hurt

  Tomorrow is Sir Stirling James’ wedding day. Stirling matched the Duke of Roxburgh’s three younger daughters with reputable men. His reward is the duke’s eldest daughter, Lady Chastity, the future duchess of Roxburgh. Now, if he can only get the lady down the aisle and into his bed.

  When Lady Chastity bargained with her father to marry the man who could match her sisters with suitable husbands in one month’s time, she didn’t believe such a man existed. But tomorrow, she is to wed the marriage maker.

  The Marriage Maker: Rules of Refinement

  Redempti
on of a Marquess

  She insisted on saving him…he let her.

  Valan Grey, the 6th Earl of Edmonds, the Marquess of Northington, has no wish to sire an heir. His three-year-old nephew will carry on the title. His fertile sister has already borne her husband another son and a daughter for good luck. The title is safe. So why marry?

  Miss Jeanine Matheson has graduated from Lady Peddington’s School for Young Ladies. Only, Jeanine isn’t interested in finding a husband—at least, not a young healthy husband. She aspires to become a businesswoman like Lady Peddington. All she needs is a very rich, very elderly gentleman to marry her and then, well…pass on to his reward.

  Shameless

  No gentleman falls in love with his mistress… he’s no gentleman.

  As the daughter of a well known madam, Juliet Thatcher knows more about men than she cares to—which is why she has no intention of following in her mother’s footsteps. Juliet agrees to her mother’s request that she attend Lady Peddington’s School for Young Ladies to prepare her for life as a courtesan. She hopes that the school year will give her time to convince her mother to allow her to pursue a career as a dressmaker, instead.

  When Lady Peddington extorts from Juliet a game of cards with notorious rake Duke Hamilton, Juliet knows there’s only one way to deal with a man like him: beat him at cards, then disappear.

  Carrick Hamilton, the Duke of Hamilton does not sustain long romances. But Sir Stirling James knows he simply hasn’t met a woman hot blooded enough to set his blood–and his heart–on fire. When Stirling challenges him to meet the woman Stirling swears he will marry, Carrick can’t resist the challenge.

  A Marriage of Necessity

  When Viscountess Kinsley’s father lost all but their home then drank himself to death, creditors stood read to seize what remained. Anne’s only hope of saving her family is to find a husband through Lady Paddington’s School for Young Ladies. Only, upon graduation, Anne finds herself the victim of jealous gossip that claims she seeks multiple lovers. Now, no respectable man will have her.

 

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