Copyright
ISBN 1-59310-880-X
Copyright © 2006 by Kimberley Comeaux. All rights reserved. Except for use in any review, the reproduction or utilization of this work in whole or in part in any form by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, is forbidden without the permission of Truly Yours, an imprint of Barbour Publishing, Inc., PO Box 721, Uhrichsville, Ohio 44683.
All scripture quotations are taken from the King James Version of the Bible.
All of the characters and events in this book are fictitious. Any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, or to actual events is purely coincidental.
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One
London, England, 1816
“What do you think Lady Exeter would do if I tied my skirts and scurried up that large oak over there?” Lady Claudia Baumgartner asked her friend Helen, the Duchess of Northingshire, as they strolled through Hyde Park.
“Hmm.” Helen tapped her finger on her rosy cheek. They both eyed Lady Exeter, who was dressed from head to toe in green ruffles and feathers. If anyone could make or break one’s favor with the ton, which represented all of English noble society, it would be this formidable woman. “Well, after she had finished huffing and puffing with acute vexation, she would snap out her green-feathered fan, wave it toward you, and declare you mad and unfit for the title of Marchioness of Moreland!”
Claudia laughed. “It might be worth my reputation just to witness her vexation,” she said, teasing.
“My dear friend, you can witness it on any number of occasions.” Helen smiled. “All Lady Exeter has to do is see me on the arm of my beloved husband, and she lets everyone in our vicinity know how put out about the marriage she is.”
Claudia glanced at Helen. Although her tone had remained pleasant, Claudia worried that it still caused her friend pain whenever she was belittled. English society did not look favorably on those who married above their stations as Helen had when she married the Duke of Northingshire.
Claudia started to apologize for mentioning it, but Helen stopped her.
“Do not look so bothered, Claudia. I’m fine, really. I am concerned about you, though.”
Claudia was taken aback. “Me? Whatever for?”
“You seem so lonely away from your home in America. I keep thinking that if you made a good match it might alleviate some of your melancholy.”
Claudia smiled at her friend. “Just because marriage agrees with you, it does not follow it would agree with me, as well. Besides, I have not found a man in all of England I like enough to consider a match.” She looked around the large wooded park at the handsomely dressed ladies and gentlemen and sighed. “Besides your husband, and possibly the Thornton brothers, there is no one I would think manly enough to attract me. Most of these gentlemen are. . .too soft,” she finished.
Helen giggled. “You are just used to those rugged American and Indian men like Sam. To tell you the truth, Sam scared me to death when he kept trying to trade his horses for me. Nothing seems civilized over there!”
Claudia smiled at her. She remembered the time Helen spent in Louisiana as a companion to Claudia’s younger sister, Josie, when she met their neighbor Sam, a Choctaw Indian. Their lives were similar in some ways—Helen, a farmer’s daughter, had left her comfortable life to live with her husband in the sometimes harsh world of the ton, and Claudia had left her family, friends, and country to live with her grandfather in a land so different from her own.
For that reason Claudia was experiencing a twinge of melancholy. She’d received a letter from her sister the day before, and it reminded her of how homesick she was for her native Louisiana.
When she had first heard that her grandfather, the Marquis of Moreland, had asked her to come and live with him and become heir to his title, Claudia had jumped at the chance. After all, she had always dreamed of what it must be like to wear beautiful dresses and attend balls and parties during the season.
And, too, it was a chance to redeem her father’s name and heritage that had been damaged when he had married the daughter of the marquis’s butler. Claudia’s grandfather had disowned him, cutting him off with only a small inheritance from his mother. Left with few options Claudia’s parents, Robert and Imogene Baumgartner, fled to America and established a plantation in south Louisiana not far from New Orleans. It was there Claudia and her sister, Josie, were born and reared on the Golden Bay Plantation, surrounded by swamps and bayous, with members of the Choctaw Indian tribe as their playmates.
In the two years she had been in England, however, nothing had been as she had imagined. Her grandfather was gruff and distant, often causing Claudia to feel alone. The balls were also a letdown. For though they were grand, she had so many rules and restrictions placed upon her that she had no time left to enjoy herself.
At first, the ton had labeled her a rustic and an oddity because of her accent and lack of graces. But the prince regent took an immediate liking to her when she met him and labeled her “an original.” After that she was invited to all the parties, and every eligible gentleman clamored for her affections. In fact, she was often so overwhelmed by people, she wished she could go back to being unpopular.
“So how is your search going for your mother’s father?” Helen asked, pulling Claudia from her musings.
“My grandfather still will not speak of him, and he has forbidden the servants to tell me anything either,” she said with a sigh. She’d been searching for her other grandfather, George Canterbury, since she’d arrived in England, but the only news she’d managed to procure was concerning the marquis. Lord Moreland had terminated her grandfather Canterbury’s employment when he’d become aware of Robert and Imogene’s relationship. “I’m not even sure he’s alive, Helen. Perhaps I am wasting my time.”
Helen took her hand and gave it a squeeze before releasing it. “Nonsense! I have told my husband about it, and he has been making inquiries on your behalf. Between the three of us we will find him,” Helen assured her.
Claudia smiled at Helen and silently sent up a prayer of thanks to God for sending her a friend so loyal and true. “Please give him my sincere thanks,” she said earnestly. “If anyone can find out anything, I know North can,” she continued, using the duke’s nickname.
“Of course he can,” Helen agreed.
“Once I find my other grandfather, perhaps I’ll be in better spirits, and you won’t have to try to match me with every suitable man in London,” she teased.
“Not every man, Claudia—just the right one,” Helen suddenly stopped, and her breath caught. “Of course! He would be perfect.”
Claudia studied her friend’s awestruck expression warily. “What are you talking about?”
Helen made a discreet movement with her hand toward the bridge to their right where a tall, dark blond man stood with a slender older woman. “That is the Duchess of Ravenhurst, is it not?” Claudia recognized her immediately. “But who is the gentleman?”
Helen linked her arm with Claudia’s, and together they walked toward the couple. “He, my dear, could be the man of your dreams!” she whispered dramatically.
Claudia rolled her eyes at that statement but allowed Helen to move them closer. “Helen, I believe you have read one too many romance novels. I couldn’t possibly determine whether a man is right for me by just one loo. . . .” Her words drifted to a close as she was finally able to see his face and broad shoulders clearly. He was dr
essed in a dark brown riding jacket, beige breeches, and shiny black Hessians. “Oh! He’s quite handsome, is he not?” she said breathlessly. Claudia was so engrossed in her perusal of him that she was not aware she had come to a complete stop.
Helen smiled at Claudia and tugged on her arm again. “You can be assured he will soon be the most sought-after gentleman in all of England.”
“But who is he? Why have I not met him before?”
“He is Cameron Montbatten, the Earl of Kinclary and heir to the Duke of Ravenhurst,” Helen informed her. “And you have not met him for he has been away at school and abroad. I heard from Christina that he’s only just returned this week.”
Christina was married to the Earl of Kenswick and a friend to Claudia and Helen. The two of them slowed as they neared the bridge. Claudia scrambled to remember if she had been introduced to the duchess and was glad to recall she had. If she had not, then it would be improper to approach her directly.
But the greeting did not go as she had imagined. The moment Claudia stepped forward to make her presence known to them, Lord Kinclary turned to speak with another gentleman. And before Claudia could wonder at his rather abrupt behavior, Lady Ravenhurst spoke up. “Lady Claudia. How nice to see you on this lovely morning.”
It became noticeable at once that the older woman had left Helen out of the greeting. “I am doing quite well, your grace,” she returned. She reasoned that she was ignoring Helen because they had not been properly introduced. “And may I present my friend, the Lady Northingshire?”
Claudia could not believe it when the duchess cut her sharp gaze to Helen and sneered. “My dear,” she said, bringing her gaze back to Claudia, “you should be careful in choosing your friends. You don’t want your position amongst the ton damaged beyond repair, do you?”
Claudia gasped then glanced at Helen and saw the hurt brimming in her vivid blue eyes. “I beg your pardon,” she said to the older woman, only to have Helen put her hand on her arm, stopping her words.
“Claudia, I believe I see my husband waiting for me. You’ll excuse me, won’t you?” she whispered then hurried away, her shoulders slumped in defeat.
Though Claudia had spent two years in England being tutored, instructed, and sometimes prodded on the proper way a lady should comport herself in every situation, she was about to undo it all. She opened her mouth to tell the older woman exactly how she felt when the son suddenly turned back to her and smiled.
The earl was so handsome that it fairly took her breath away to receive his full attention. She had to give herself a mental shake and remember how he’d just ignored her dear friend.
The cad!
“You are not about to leave, are you? Mother, please introduce me to this lovely creature before she escapes,” his deep voice urged, his eyes dancing playfully.
She caught her breath again as his moss-green gaze swept over her face. She reasoned it might be best to leave quickly and say nothing at all before this man, who was obviously a practiced charmer where ladies were concerned, made her forget she was upset with him.
“This is Lady Claudia, the future Marchioness of Moreland. An inherited title, I might add,” Lady Ravenhurst said. “I was about to ask her to join us for tea sometime. And, my lady,” she said, turning to Claudia, “this is my son, Lord Kinclary.”
Claudia was already backing away from him even as he bowed to her. “I’m afraid. . .I must go,” she stammered. Before he could give her another one of his lethal looks, she turned and dashed away in the direction Helen had gone.
❧
In all of his twenty-seven years Cameron could not remember meeting any woman who affected him as Lady Claudia just had. She barely spoke to him, and yet he knew he must see her again.
“Well, I must say, she reacted very rudely to you, Cam. But what can you expect from those barbaric colonists?” Cameron’s mother tugged at her pristine white gloves.
Cameron’s brow rose with interest as he gazed at the lady’s retreating figure. “Mother, it’s been many years since they’ve been referred to as ‘colonists,’ and I can only guess her urgency to leave our presence must have been because you said something to insult her,” he stated dryly. His mother, Margaret Montbatten, had the ridiculous notion that everyone valued and even begged for her opinion.
Lady Ravenhurst sniffed. “Nonsense! I only told her she should keep better company.”
Cameron ran his hand through his hair and groaned aloud. “Mother, the Duke of Northingshire is one of my oldest friends, and now you are telling me you just offended his wife?” He shook his head, wondering how he could repair the damage. “Lady Northingshire is a lovely girl and apparently a good friend of Lady Claudia’s—in whom, I might add, I am very interested.”
His mother seemed indifferent to his chastisement and ignored his last comment. “Lady Northingshire is a farmer’s daughter and better suited to a barnyard than a ballroom. Marrying a duke does not make one a duchess!”
Cameron looked at his mother, who was still pretty for her age, and wondered if she were going senile. “Yes, it does, Mother.”
Lady Ravenhurst narrowed her eyes at her son. “Do not be smart with me, young man. I know she is a duchess. I was simply making a point.” Then her eyes widened suddenly. “What do you mean you are interested in Lady Claudia? Have you met her before?”
Cameron sighed and tried not to fathom his mother’s way of thinking. “I met her only today, but I know she is someone I should like to see more.”
“Hmm.” Lady Ravenhurst tapped her gloved finger on her cheek. “She is a bit of a rustic, but I have it on good faith that she is a favorite of the prince regent.”
Cameron shook his head and took his mother’s arm. Together they walked forward. “I care nothing of what the ton thinks,” he said firmly. “Now tell me how an American girl becomes the heir to a title.”
Cameron listened to his mother tell him about the Marquis of Moreland and how he’d named Claudia his heir. She ended by saying, “She clearly needs tutoring in the ways of a lady, but she has excellent bloodlines despite her mother and would make you a fine countess and future duchess.”
“Mother, we are talking about a lady not a horse!” Cameron exclaimed with exasperation, then softened his tone. “You must know what it is like to want to find the perfect mate for your life—someone to share your dreams with and a life full of meaning and purpose. Someone God has chosen for you.” He’d taken his mother’s hands in his.
His mother stared at him. “What nonsense! Marriage is a merger of two good families who produce superior children, particularly a male, to carry on the line. This cycle has been repeated for centuries. It’s the way of things, you know.” She pulled her hands away from him, tugged again at her gloves, smoothed her skirts, then took his arm. “Now let’s put this romantic foolishness aside and start planning your marriage to the future Marchioness of Moreland.”
Cameron sighed and continued to walk alongside his mother. He knew his parents were fond of each other but married because it had been arranged and nothing more. Cameron wanted more. In his travels he’d become friends with a missionary who had such a zeal for God and a strong calling to share God’s love to others. It made Cameron ashamed of the selfish life of privilege he’d taken for granted and prodded him to search for a better way to live—one that would please God.
He had found a way to do that, but he felt certain no lady from his world would understand or even want to be a part of it. It would take a special woman, with a similar aspiration, to be his wife.
He was in the midst of wondering about Lady Claudia when a young woman appeared at his other side.
“Ah, Aurora,” his mother said. “Your aunt Martin is here with you?”
Lady Aurora Wyndham linked her arm with Cameron’s and nodded to his mother. “Good morning, your grace. Yes, she is over there
speaking with Lady Exeter.”
When Cameron’s mother had left to speak with Aurora’s aunt, Aurora tugged on his arm and led him behind a large tree.
Cameron had known Aurora since childhood and was fond of her, but he was in no mood to deal with her theatrics. “Aurora, what—,” he began impatiently.
“Cam, I’ve just come from speaking with Father, and I fear I have some terrible news!” She held a white lace handkerchief to her cheek.
Cameron stopped short of rolling his eyes at her. Aurora tended to make even the slightest problem a major ordeal. “What is it, Aurora?”
“He has demanded I become engaged in one month, or he’ll make me marry Lord Carmichael. The man is old and toothless and has already been through four wives!” She dabbed at her eyes, though Cameron was sure he saw no tears. “I could not bear to marry such an ogre, Cam. You must help me.”
Cameron let out a sigh. “Aurora, you have had countless offers for your hand; yet you have chosen to turn them all down. Your father is just trying to force you to make a decision. I doubt he will follow through on his threat.”
But Aurora would not be calmed. She began to pace in front of him, twisting the handkerchief. “You did not see his face, Cameron. He was serious—of that I have no doubt.” She stopped and faced him with pleading eyes. “Will you help me?”
As Cameron stared down into Aurora’s face, he had no doubt that her luminous gaze, pouty lips, and soft, whispery voice had worked their wiles on many a man. They did not, however, do anything for him except irritate him. “If you are asking me to help you make a match before your father carries out his threat, then I’ll do what I can,” he said finally.
A smile curved her lips as she reached out to take his arm. “I knew I could count on you, Cam,” she cooed and continued to chatter on about something else, but Cameron had stopped listening.
He was already thinking about when and where he might see the lovely Lady Claudia once more.
A Gentleman's Kiss Page 1