by Boom, Naomi
He never had stopped to consider his future bride’s desires, either. What if she was hoping for a loving marriage? He had never contemplated the possibility of fidelity on one person’s side, much less both. He knew he could be faithful to Laura, but did he want to risk her dedication to do the same? Marrying Laura would be much riskier than marrying anybody else, because she could potentially break his heart. What happened if he let her go though? His heart would definitely be broken in that scenario.
Gavin rose abruptly and swept the ring off the table. He pocketed it as he left the room. He could hear the smile in his mother’s voice as she called out, “We have not discussed the bills for the ball yet.”
“Send them to me,” he ordered gruffly as he left. He had more important things to focus on, such as winning his woman.
****
The previous night’s activities had left Laura antisocial. Typically, she would have joined Eleanor and Lady Ashford in the drawing room to welcome any guests who might come to call, but she held different plans for the day. She had decided to take a trip to Bond Street under the pretense of acquiring a new shawl for a gown that had just arrived. Luckily, Eleanor already had plans to join Lord Collins on a ride, so Laura was free to take Anna as her sole companion.
Laura sighed at the dreariness of the day as the carriage rumbled down the cobbled streets. The rain had started that morning, but had now begun to turn into snow, rendering the streets a slushy mess. She turned to her maid and asked, “Has your mother’s health improved?” Anna’s mother had managed to catch a cold a week past, and Laura had not been updated.
Anna smiled brightly. “She is doing much better. The doctor you sent over really helped, thank you.”
Laura was happy to hear of the improvement. She had spent a good deal of her pin money on that doctor and liked to see results. “That is good to hear. Have there been any new developments for you in the romance department?” She loved to hear Anna’s stories and sat back to listen while Anna spoke of a young man she had recently met. She knew she should not be so familiar with the maid, but what was she supposed to do? Act as if the girl did not exist? Sometimes Anna helped her for hours on end, and Laura preferred to spend that time enjoying herself.
The carriage halted as it arrived at Bond Street, and Laura was pleased to see the usually boisterously busy shopping district was almost deserted. The inclement weather must have kept idle shoppers away. She entered an establishment to quickly choose a shawl. Once her transaction was completed, she immediately crossed the street to peruse a bookstore. She grimaced at the mud caked on her boots. Laura had tried to step daintily through the streets, but her hem was still a sodden fright.
A bell jingled as she walked in. The owner glanced up and gave her a look of disapproval when he saw the mud she tracked in. Laura pointedly ignored his rudeness and began to browse the books. Her eyes alighted on a particularly elegant volume of John Keats’s poems. She happened to adore Keats and had never seen such a spectacular edition. She glanced at the price, and Laura was displeased to see the amount the store owner was asking. She had used most of her pin money for the month already, and Laura was a little short but decided she could ask the owner to negotiate.
She walked determinedly up to the man and laid the volume on the counter. “Good day. I was admiring this volume by Keats and wondered if you would negotiate on the price a little.”
The shopkeeper pushed back the spectacles perched on the bridge of his nose, and said unyieldingly, “The price is firm.”
Laura wanted that book. “Would you be willing to hold it until next month? I will have the full amount at that time.”
“No,” he said flatly, “I do not put books aside when someone cannot afford them. Especially women.” He sneered derisively, pausing to smile as a patron entered the store. “Besides, you just tracked mud throughout my establishment.”
An unusual mixture of shame and anger caused an unwanted blush to rise to her face. She glanced at the floor, noting she had not tracked that much mud around. He must truly despise women, to offend an obvious member of the aristocracy in such a manner.
“That is no way to talk to a lady.” Laura whirled around to find Lord Farris standing there, looking perfectly tailored, and frustratingly, without a single speck of mud on him. “What is the problem here?” he demanded.
“Nothing,” Laura spoke quickly. She added frigidly to the shopkeeper, “Do not worry about seeing me in here again.” Not waiting for his response, Laura left, wishing she had not bumped into Lord Farris.
Laura could curse, she was so mad. Lord Farris had the worst timing, to happen upon her when she was in such an awkward situation. She was not actually upset with him, more just at the situation. She bit her lip and glanced down at her hemline. Even the weather was working against her today. If she had simply gone shopping yesterday, none of this would have happened.
She stepped daintily past a pothole in the road and was irked when Lord Farris’s hand shot out and grabbed her elbow. “You walk so slowly it is a miracle you do not get run over by a carriage.” He hurriedly directed her to the safety of the sidewalk. His clothes were miraculously still unmarred by mud.
“I am certainly not that slow,” Laura responded indignantly.
The snow was still falling, and Laura shivered. Lord Farris’s hand tightened on her arm, and he led her into a nearby deserted café. A waiter approached, which allowed Lord Farris to order hot chocolates as he led Laura to an intimate table.
She sat down, annoyed that she was allowing herself to be guided so easily. “What are we doing here, my lord?”
He smiled wryly, which properly melted Laura’s heart. “In several moments, we will partake of a beverage together.” He shifted in his seat and asked, “Did you know you have a tendency to ask obvious questions?”
“When else have I asked obvious questions?” she asked, slightly vexed. “And for the record, my question was not as obvious as you think.”
He laughed, and he caught her hand in his. Laura tugged gently, but he refused to let go. His eyes darkened slightly and he said, “I can still remember the sight of your naked ankles by the brook.”
Laura gasped loudly and blushed. The rules of etiquette demanded he not speak of her exposed ankles. Ever. His eyes appeared hooded, and she asked sharply, “What is your point, my lord?”
“Nothing, except I believe I had been remiss in telling you how lovely your ankles are.”
“They are just ankles, my lord.” She added brusquely, “Now, when did I ask obvious questions?”
His hand stroked hers methodically, and his eyes landed on her lips. “You asked obvious questions on almost every other altercation we had.”
She pulled much harder on her hand. Unfortunately, his grip was like steel.
“Now, now, Laura. Your chocolate will arrive shortly. Try and be patient.”
She glared. He knew full well that she did not care about her chocolate. “And if I am not thirsty?”
He raised an eyebrow as he inspected her light frame. “The chocolate will help with your weight problem.”
The waiter brought two cups of the thick, molten chocolate and placed them gingerly in front of the couple. If Laura had not been so chilled from the weather, she would have refused out of principle. She looked defiantly at Lord Farris, lifted her cup, and took a sip. It was delicious. “I had not realized I had a weight problem.”
“Were you not listening last night?”
“Of course, but I was perfectly fine last night, and I am perfectly fine today.”
He scoffed. “And I am sure you were perfectly fine in the book store.”
She could not meet his eyes. “Of course I was. Why are you here, anyway?”
“I have an appointment with my tailor.”
She looked meaningfully at the clock on the wall, then back at him. “I would hate to keep you from your appointment. Thank you for the chocolate. Have a good day.” She hoped he would take the hint and leave
.
Lord Farris sat back and smiled a gloating smile. “Do not concern yourself overly about me, darling. Where is your Lord Dunbar? Too cold outside for his old bones?”
He was not that old. Lord Farris excelled at picking out topics to annoy her with. She began to drink her chocolate in earnest and ignored him. The sooner she was away from him, the better.
“How old is he? If I was to hazard a guess, I would say about the same age as your father.”
Suddenly, her chocolate went down the wrong pipe. She coughed and looked up. He was smiling wickedly, and Laura had a sneaking suspicion that he had consulted Debrett’s in regards to Lord Dunbar.
“So is it true your father and Lord Dunbar attended school together?”
Her suspicions were confirmed. He had investigated Lord Dunbar. Laura quickly drained the last of her chocolate, almost slamming the poor cup down on the little table. She stood, which forced Lord Farris to also stand. “That is none of your business, now I must be going. Thank you for the chocolate,” she gruffly admonished, swept a small curtsy, and left as Anna trailed behind.
Laura was relieved to be back in her coach travelling home. Lord Farris was the most infuriating man she had ever met. To think he had purposefully fed her rich food to put weight on her. She was not some cow getting fattened up for slaughter, and then he magically knew which topic to bring up about Lord Dunbar that aggravated her most. Dratted man.
Anna broke through her thoughts, asking inquisitively, “That was not Lord Dunbar. He was too young. Who is he?”
Again with the age. Laura spoke shortly, indicating she did not want to speak of the subject further, “He is no one.” Anna closed her mouth and did not utter another sound the rest of the way home, which was just what Laura needed.
****
Gavin let her go and took a moment to appreciate the view of her backside, swaying as she walked. He signaled the waiter to bring his check and paid the man. Life was so much better with Laura in it. He stepped back outside and perused the streets. They were still empty, and it was still snowing slightly.
The bell jingled as he entered the little bookstore, and he was unsurprised when the shopkeeper rushed to help him.
“My lord,” the shopkeeper groveled, “what an honor that you would choose to grace my shop with your presence.”
Gavin stared at him coldly. “What was the lady interested in when I stopped by earlier?”
The little man wrung his hands nervously. “Just some of that romantic drivel young ladies find so interesting, my lord.”
“Byron?” Gavin had not pegged Laura as the type.
“No, my lord. Keats.”
Gavin’s eyebrow rose in surprise, which was the only emotion he betrayed. “I would like to purchase it.”
“Of course, my lord. Allow me to wrap it for you.”
The book was small, but the binding was unusually well made, seeing as Keats was not very popular. The shopkeeper handed the package to Gavin, and Gavin said quietly, “Now, you will also write a letter of apology to the lady.”
He sputtered in surprise. “For her? But my lord…”
Gavin glared harshly. “You have insulted a future viscountess. It is the least you can do.”
The man gulped and scurried away to do as told. Gavin checked his timepiece while he waited. He was considerably late for his appointment with his tailor, but his tailor would never send him away. Even if he did, Laura was more important.
****
Gavin had not sat at home alone for quite some time. Carousing every night was exhausting, and he was happy to enjoy the stillness for a change. He had asked his chef to prepare a simple meal and serve it to him in his study, as he did not want to waste time adjourning to the dining room. He needed time to dwell on the best course of action for winning his Laura.
She would be in attendance at his sister’s ball. Lord Collins had mentioned more than once that Miss Ashford required an invitation. Aside from that one event, he was unsure where she would be. His most likely recourse would be to tag along with Lord Collins to any events he attended, as logic dictated where his friend went so would Laura.
Gavin pulled his grandmother’s ring from his pocket and contemplated it. A large, circular opal was surrounded by amethysts, which somehow seemed to suit Laura perfectly. Maybe it was how the fire in the opal reminded him of her fiery personality, or the purple of the amethysts were reminiscent of her eyes. Placing the ring back in his pocket, he realized he had a lot of work to do. He knew Laura had only just begun a relationship with Lord Dunbar, but he could imagine the older gentleman was in a hurry to get things finalized. Maybe he needed more time with Laura, but finding out her schedule was imperative and would cost him. Gavin called for a footman and waited impatiently for his hurried arrival.
“I need you to go to the Ashford residence and gather some information for me,” he demanded, as he pulled an envelope filled with money from his pocket. The amount would ensure he received the information he desired. “Use whatever means necessary to find out the schedule of Lady Laura Rosing. Primarily any daily habits she may have.” He knew Laura enjoyed riding and was hoping she was still maintained that daily practice in London.
The footman agreed readily and departed to complete his mission. Who knew how long it would take for his man to accomplish his mission, but Gavin was confident it would be successful. Now he had another dilemma. To win Laura, it was imperative he convince her he’d had a change of heart about marriage. If he were to simply approach her and propose marriage, she would laugh in his face. He could easily compromise her, but he would keep that as a last resort for when all else failed.
He knew himself, and he realized he would have to convince her through sheer force of will. Forcefully, just as he did everything else in his life. Scaring away suitors would not be a problem, except Lord Dunbar, whom he must somehow convince to leave the picture. Above all, Laura needed to feel the choice was hers to come to him, even if he manipulated events to suit his desire.
Gavin was interrupted by a knock on the door. “Come in,” he said gruffly.
Lord Deering entered the room and smiled curiously. “I have arrived as directed.”
“I trust the rest of your night went smoothly?” If Gavin had to hazard a guess, he would say Deering’s night was not terribly pleasant, as evidenced by the dark circles under his eyes.
Lord Deering hesitated. “I suppose it could have been worse.”
“Care for a drink?” Gavin stood and poured two glasses. After handing one to the gentleman, he went to stand in front of the window. The city was spread out before him in all its glorious splendor. As much as he enjoyed the perks of city living, he would always prefer the countryside, and unless he had missed something, so would Laura.
“Not that I don’t appreciate the scotch, but why am I here?” Lord Deering asked pleasantly.
“There is some concern over your gambling lately.”
“Why, I never!” Lord Deering sputtered and stood.
Gavin looked behind him at Lord Deering. The man appeared agitated, but there could be any number of reasons. “Sit down.” He waited until Lord Deering obeyed him, and said gruffly, “I will be blunt. I am the one who introduced you to the world of chance. After all, you barely knew how to throw dice when I met you. In two months’ time, you have progressed from a complete novice to a wastrel, and I will not stand for it.”
“I am not some child in leading strings, to be ordered about, and I am hardly the first gentleman to engage in games of skill,” Lord Deering declared sharply.
“Skill?” Gavin scoffed and returned his gaze to the lights shining before him. “Just how much money have you won, then?”
Charged silence followed his query.
“Well?” Gavin asked.
“I think you know the answer to that.”
Gavin appreciated Lord Deering’s honesty, despite his grudging tone. “I cannot allow myself to be your downfall. I am the last person to tell you to
quit enjoying your vice entirely, but I would suggest you ease up.”
“Or what? You cannot do anything to me, so your threat is useless.” Lord Deering’s eyes gleamed from his boldness.
“Do you truly believe that?” He levelled a stare at Lord Deering until the chap was forced to look away. “I will not do anything, but you have a choice to make. Miss Somers does not seem the sort to marry a degenerate. You might hide your predilection from her, but you know how rumors abound. Something tells me she will find out.”
The chime of a clock echoed in the house, signaling the start of a new hour. Both gentlemen ignored the noise, focusing instead on the other in a silent battle of wills. Finally, Lord Deering stood, tore his gaze from Gavin’s, and said wryly, “I can only imagine how she would find out.” He swept a mocking bow and said, “Good day to you, sir.”
His feet whispered softly on the carpet as he departed the study. Gavin sighed audibly. His message had been delivered, but only time would tell if it worked, and if he had lost a friend. The room was starting to darken as night fell, but light was unimportant. He had only to wait for his footman’s return, and then he could ascend to bed.
Finding out Laura’s habits was essential to his plan to woo her, but he was starting to doubt his luck on gaining insight. Some servants were paid well enough to know better than to betray their mistresses, although everyone had his price. He returned to his desk and started to pay the accumulating charges for his sister’s ball. He was always shocked to see how much one of these events costed, and this one was astronomical. After finishing the last one for the night, Gavin rose and started to make his way to bed when his footman finally found him.
“My lord, I have the particulars on your lady,” he said proudly as he puffed out his chest.
“Very good, please tell me,” Gavin demanded impatiently.
“Well, my lord, I tried talking to another footman, but he would not say anything.” Gavin raised his eyebrow, indicating the man should get to the point, at which, the servant hurriedly continued speaking, “The lady’s maid says she rides in the morning at Hyde Park.” He swallowed as his chest deflated a bit.