The Seduction of an English Lady

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The Seduction of an English Lady Page 4

by Cathy Maxwell


  Colonel Mandland stepped right in front of her, blocking her path.

  Rosalyn pulled up short, a beat away from running into his chest. She attempted to sidestep him. He followed, either because he was unafraid of challenging her in public or because he possessed the manners of a bull. She didn’t know which—although she did have an opinion.

  “My lord,” he said in his deep, resonant voice, his hard eyes on the leather folder. “With all due respect, I, too, must beg a moment of your time. Alone.”

  Rosalyn’s smile grew tight as she met his challenge with a steely look of her own. “But I made the request first.”

  “Yes, but your business involves me,” Colonel Mandland answered.

  “You have no idea what I’m going to talk about,” she responded.

  “On the contrary, I know exactly what you want to say,” the colonel said. “If I were attempting to steal the deed to a man’s house, I’d not want him present to refute my story either.”

  Rosalyn ached to punch him in his arrogant nose. She gripped the leather folder with both hands. “I have not stolen anything from you. You are attempting to steal my house from me.”

  “I purchased the house. Can’t you understand that? I bought the house in good faith from your cousin, who owned it.”

  They stood toe-to-toe. She had to look up to challenge him. “And how do we know that? How do we know this deed is not a forgery?”

  Her charge struck home. For a second, his brow darkened, and his mouth opened and shut as if words failed him.

  His brother cautioned. “Colin, your temper.”

  “What the devil is going on here?” Lord Loftus asked his wife.

  “It’s very complicated,” she whispered.

  “Well, tell me!” her lord answered, but before she could speak, Colonel Mandland found his voice.

  “I do not steal.” He took a step forward, forcing Rosalyn to move back. “I do not forge.” Another step. “And I do not lie.”

  Rosalyn dug in her heels. “Forge?” she queried. “Is that even a word? Or at least, in the way you mean it?”

  “I just used it.”

  “Well, I’m not accepting it. Any more than I am accepting your taking my house.”

  “It is not your house.”

  “It is!”

  “It isn’t!”

  She turned to the others in frustration. “Listen to him. He sounds like a schoolchild.”

  “I? A child?” Colonel Mandland repeated incredulously.

  “Yes, you.” With just the right haughty lift of her chin, she sneered, “A gentleman would not be so ungracious as to publicly argue with a lady.”

  His eyes narrowed. “A lady would not pick such an argument when she knows she is wrong.”

  Rosalyn delivered her coup de grace. “What would a cobbler’s son know about what a lady would or would not do?”

  Her barb struck home with more force than she could have imagined. She realized too late, after her proud words had been flung out into the air, that she’d not only insulted the colonel but also his brother, and she really did respect and like the Reverend Mandland.

  But instead of bluster and outrage, a deadly calm enveloped Colonel Mandland, his expression so grim, his manner so tense, that her knees began to tremble.

  Perhaps she had gone too far.

  “Colin—,” his brother cautioned.

  The colonel raised a hand, effectively cutting off any other words that might be said. His gaze never left Rosalyn’s. “Lord Loftus, both Lady Rosalyn and I are here to ask you to settle an important matter. She has in her possession a deed proving her cousin, Lord Woodford, sold Maiden Hill and all of its furnishings to me.”

  “Is that true, Lady Rosalyn?” Lord Loftus asked, sounding himself a bit cowed.

  Rosalyn didn’t answer immediately. Anger and humiliation made speech difficult. She wanted to deny the accusation, to counter with even worse charges aimed at Colonel Mandland’s upstart character. But she couldn’t. The same code of honor that had guided her father now led her. She would not lie.

  “Yes, I have the deed. My cousin George sold the house.”

  She gathered her courage and faced Lord and Lady Loftus, aware that her back was now turned to the most dangerous man of her acquaintance. “George wants Covey and I to remove ourselves to my aunt in Cornwall. I don’t want to go. I’m happy here…and Covey has never been out of Lancashire. Maiden Hill has been her home since her marriage.”

  “Of course you don’t want to go,” Lady Loftus said, coming to Rosalyn’s side. “And none of us wants you to leave. Why, I can’t imagine what the Spring Cotillion would be like without you. Or the Ladies’ Social Circle. You’ve brought so much life and joy to the Valley. We need you!”

  And Rosalyn needed them, too. After years of being alone, the people in the Valley had become her family. She took the hand Lady Loftus offered and said to his lordship, “Please, help me fight my cousin for Maiden Hill. He can’t sell it. He mustn’t.”

  “He already has sold it,” Colonel Mandland practically growled. He said to his lordship, “I am sympathetic to Lady Rosalyn’s plight, but I purchased the house. I want to live there.”

  Lord Loftus’s shoulders slumped, as if he were overwhelmed at the thought of being forced to make a decision, and Rosalyn felt a measure of hope. Certainly, he would champion her.

  Then the colonel prodded, “Perhaps you should review the deed yourself, my lord.”

  “Yes,” Loftus agreed eagerly, apparently relieved to have some direction. “Let me see it.”

  Rosalyn didn’t want to give up her hold on the folder, but she had no choice. His lordship walked over to the window, where the light was better, and took the deed out.

  “You can have it reviewed by a solicitor,” the colonel suggested with such a helpful attitude that Rosalyn wanted to throttle him. “All is in order.”

  “Harkness, send for Shellsworth,” Lord Loftus ordered the hapless butler, who was just walking in with a tray of hot toddies. The butler set the tray down on a table and hurried to do his lordship’s bidding. Lord Loftus explained to Colonel Mandland, “He’s a solicitor. Lives just beyond the way. Should be here in a thrice.” He squinted to read the cramped handwriting on the deed.

  Lady Loftus gave Rosalyn’s hand a reassuring pat. “Mr. Shellsworth will know what to do.”

  Rosalyn attempted to smile back. She wasn’t very successful. Her stomach had suddenly tied up in knots. Mr. Shellsworth’s wife would be pleased to see Rosalyn gone. She had made it quite clear she envied Rosalyn’s role in society.

  However, Lady Loftus didn’t appear to care whether or not her words brought comfort, because her gaze had gone past Rosalyn to the colonel and then back again. Her eyes widened as if she had been struck by a sudden, enlightening thought.

  “What?” Rosalyn whispered, wanting to know what her ladyship was thinking and hoping it was something that would save her home.

  Lady Loftus ignored her. Instead, she asked, “Colonel Mandland, when will your wife and children arrive? Maiden Hill is such a lovely estate for a family.”

  What sort of question was that? Rosalyn wondered if her dear friend was abandoning her to Cornwall.

  The colonel frowned at having his attention diverted from Lord Loftus, who now moved his lips as he attempted to read over sections of the deed. “I’m not married, my lady.”

  His brother was more gracious. “My wife is looking forward to helping my brother find a wife. You know what a matchmaker Val is, my lady.”

  “I do indeed,” her ladyship answered, with a suspicious note of triumph in her voice.

  Rosalyn felt a headache forming behind her eyes. Any woman who would consider marrying such a boorish brute as Colonel Mandland had to be either desperate or so old and haggard no one else would want her…

  Her evil thoughts were interrupted by the sounds of Mr. Shellsworth’s arrival in the front hall.

  “At last!” Lord Loftus said with relief. �
�Shellsworth, get in here and read this devil of a thing!”

  Mr. Shellsworth minced his way into the room. He was a thin, petite man with fastidious manners. Rosalyn could easily picture him in the powdered wig, lace, and heeled shoes of days of yore. Since that was not the fashion, he doted on wearing bright colors, as seen in his bright yellow waistcoat and spruce green jacket and trousers. He liked the starched points of his shirt collar to brush his cheeks.

  When Rosalyn first moved to Maiden Hill, Mr. Shellsworth had presented himself as a suitor for her hand until he had discovered she’d had no dowry. Then he had done what every male had done before him—he’d disappeared. Last year he’d married a wealthy landowner’s oldest daughter.

  Rosalyn had been relieved. She could barely abide his pretentiousness, and she was not alone. He was not well liked in the Valley.

  Full of his self-importance, Mr. Shellsworth practically clicked his heels as he presented himself. “Lord Loftus, Lady Loftus…why, Lady Rosalyn, how good to see you again.” He said this last in a patronizing tone. He did not acknowledge Reverend Mandland or his brother. They were obviously beneath his notice. Instead, with his usual obnoxious flourish, he said, “My lord, what service may I perform for you today?”

  “Should have been on the hunt with me,” Lord Loftus said. “Almost caught that fox. Next time he won’t get by my dogs!”

  “Of course not, my lord,” Mr. Shellsworth said. He and Lord Loftus often hunted together. The local wags said Shellsworth had his head too far up his lordship’s rear to be any help on the hunt.

  Lord Loftus held out the deed with distaste. “Here, look at this demmed thing and see what you make of it.”

  The lawyer accepted it, put his spectacles on his nose, and with a “May I?” sat down at the writing desk beside the window.

  The colonel’s jaw tightened. He was not pleased. Rosalyn braced herself. A show of his temper would work in her favor, but his brother touched him lightly on the arm, a signal for patience.

  “My lord, while Mr. Shellsworth is considering the deed, may I have a private moment with you?” Lady Loftus asked. Without waiting for an answer, she hooked her hand in her husband’s arm and drew him aside.

  Rosalyn ignored their whisperings and concentrated on Mr. Shellsworth’s many dramatic “hmmmms” and “ahs.” Couldn’t the man read without making a sound?

  Mr. Shellsworth set down the contract, pulled his spectacles off his nose, and announced, “My lord, this contract is valid. Not as well written as I would have done, but legal in every respect. Lord Woodford had the power to sell Maiden Hill. It was not entailed.”

  “How do you know?” Rosalyn demanded.

  With an arrogant shrug, the lawyer said, “I know.”

  He meant he had found out her family’s affairs—probably while he’d been wooing her for her nonexistent money. Rosalyn was glad she had never had any inclination toward such a supercilious man. Even his hands were small…with stubby fingers. A shiver went through her.

  But the worst part was, she was going to have to admit defeat to Colonel Mandland, a person she disliked more than the lawyer.

  “There may be something that can be done,” Lord Loftus said, commanding the attention of everyone in the room. “Mandland, Reverend, both of you, come to my study.” He started for the door.

  Mr. Shellsworth hopped to his feet. “My lord, shouldn’t I go with you?”

  “Yes. Come. Bring the deed,” Lord Loftus threw over his shoulder, and the lawyer scurried after the gentlemen, the deed in his hand. Rosalyn bit back a whimper. She hated losing control of those papers.

  The moment she was alone with Lady Loftus, she collapsed on the settee. The tray of hot toddies was close by, tempting her to drown her sorrows. “So, that is it,” she said quietly. “I’ve lost.”

  “No, my dear,” Lady Loftus replied, taking the seat beside her and placing a reassuring arm around Rosalyn’s shoulders. “I believe my lord and I have thought of the most wonderful solution. One that will make everyone happy.”

  “What solution is that?”

  Lady Loftus pressed her lips together and shook her head, a secretive twinkle in her eyes. “I wish I could tell, but I don’t dare jinx the possibilities. Everything will be fine.”

  Rosalyn wasn’t so certain.

  Colin followed in Loftus’s wake, wishing this farce were over and he could have his deed. He was tired and ready to be done with it all.

  His lordship led them into a study lined with prints of prized hounds and horses. In one corner, there was even a stuffed hunt hound. Loftus noticed Colin looking at it. “His name was Theodore. Best hunt dog I ever had. Smarter than the fox. Every time. Here, sit down. I’ve got a proposition to make.” He sat himself at the chair behind a huge desk.

  The smug fop of a lawyer was the first to take his seat. As he started to sit, Colin said, “May I?” He didn’t wait for permission but took the deed away and tucked it inside his jacket. At last, he had what was his. He settled in a chair his brother had pulled up for him.

  Loftus propped his elbow on top of his desk. Colin was fairly certain little work was ever performed in this room. There wasn’t even an inkwell. His lordship said with authority, “I have a brilliant idea, one that will resolve everyone’s concerns—”

  Colin barely listened. He had his deed. It was all he wanted. The rest were mere formalities.

  “—Colonel Mandland should marry Lady Rosalyn.”

  It took a moment for Loftus’s words to sink in, and when they did, Colin’s response was a definite, “No, absolutely not.”

  “Now see here,” Loftus said, rising to his feet. “You haven’t given the matter a second’s consideration.”

  “I don’t need to,” Colin said. “I’ve met the lady. We do not suit.”

  “You’ve only known her ten minutes.”

  “Ten minutes was long enough.” Colin rose, using his height to an advantage. “I understand your concern, my lord. I deeply appreciate your help in seeing this deed returned to me. However, with all due respect, I must leave now. With your permission, my lord?” He couldn’t wait to get out the door.

  “Permission denied!” Loftus barked. He looked to Matt. “Is your brother always this abrupt?”

  “I’m afraid so, my lord. He may be the youngest, but he has always been stubborn.”

  “What?” Colin asked Matt. “You think I should marry that woman?”

  “It is a possible solution,” Matt suggested.

  Colin choked on a response.

  Loftus slapped his hand on his desk. “Come along, Mandland! I can’t see why you can’t at least consider the idea. You aren’t married; Lady Rosalyn isn’t married. The two of you marry and everyone is happy.”

  “Have you not noticed?” Colin said. “The lady can barely abide me.”

  His lordship waved away the protest. “There are ways around that. Should be easy for a handsome buck like you.”

  “Then I don’t like her,” Colin replied ruthlessly.

  “Why not? She’s comely enough,” Loftus said. “I think she is a demmed fine filly. All her parts in the right places. Oh, I admit she has to have her lead but, again, you should be able to bring her to heel.”

  “I don’t want a wife I have to ‘bring to heel,’ ” Colin said.

  “I don’t see why not?” Loftus asked. “That’s the fun of it!”

  “No,” Colin said firmly. He took a backward step toward the door. “When I marry, it will be to someone biddable.” He took another step. “Someone sweet-tempered.” And then another. “Someone who wouldn’t badger me to death.” He put his hand on the door handle. “Now if you will excuse us, my lord—?”

  “Ah, I know!” Loftus trumpeted. “You need something to sweeten the deal.”

  “There’s nothing,” Colin said, feigning a regret he didn’t feel. He was not going to be bullied into marrying Lady Rosalyn. He opened the door.

  “You can’t leave—not until we resolve this!”
>
  “Good day, my lord.”

  “What if I offered you a seat in the Commons?”

  Colin froze. He stared at Loftus, uncertain if he’d heard correctly.

  Shellsworth confirmed what had been said by jumping to his prissy feet and whining, “My lord, you were going to give me the Commons seat.”

  Loftus ignored him. He looked to Colin. “The Valley has a seat open. It’s mine to fill. I mean, there will be a vote, but—” He shrugged. Everyone knew he would choose the winner. “They’ve been after me to fill it, but I’ve not found the right man.”

  “I am the right man!” Shellsworth said. He slammed both hands on the desk. “My lord, you promised the seat to me.”

  “But I need you here. We hunt together.”

  “You can hunt with the colonel,” the lawyer reasoned.

  Loftus shook his head. “Mandland is a man of the world. A war hero. He can represent my interests in the Commons as well as you could. Maybe better. And, if Lady Rosalyn is his wife, he will have a suitable hostess to entertain in London.”

  “My wife can entertain,” Shellsworth argued.

  “Aye, but what is a farmer’s daughter when compared to an earl’s offspring?” Loftus said, as if it explained everything. “Look at what she has done to the Valley. So, what do you say, Mandland? Are you interested in a seat in the Commons?”

  A seat in the Commons could lead to the knighthood that had eluded him. Or, to even higher aspirations, to possibilities that he, a cobbler’s son, had not dared dream.

  “You like the idea,” Loftus said, accurately reading Colin’s mind. He leaned across his desk. “The seat is yours if you marry Lady Rosalyn.”

  “I would have married her for that!” Shellsworth protested. “If you had said something a year ago—”

  Loftus ignored him.

  Colin looked to his brother. Matt raised his eyebrows, letting him know this was his decision alone. “Why?” Colin asked at last. “Why would you do this for her?”

  His lordship shifted uncomfortably. “It’s my way of giving her a dowry of sorts. Someone must take care of her.”

 

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