A Most Improper Proposal

by Gail Whitiker

  'I...really have not given it a lot of thought, my lord.' Desiree abruptly closed the book and placed it back on the shelf, aware that she suddenly had no interest in Abaris, Achilles or any other mythological Greek character. 'My situation in life has not made it necessary that I do.'

  'But your position in life has changed now,' Sebastian reminded her. 'And by virtue of the fact that you are the granddaughter of a baronet, you have every right to expect that you shall marry, and marry well.'

  'Lord Buckworth, I am the granddaughter of a man who chose to ignore my existence almost from the moment of my birth. That and certain other realities of my life have necessitated my following a practical, rather than a romantic course.'

  'And that is a great pity, Desiree.' Sebastian raised his gloved hand and brushed it gently against her cheek. 'Because I believe that beneath that very prim and intellectual exterior beats the heart of a young woman who would very much like to indulge in romantic, rather than practical thoughts. Am I right?'

  'Sebastian? Is that you?' Lady Charlton enquired behind them.

  'Damn,' he swore softly, though without heat. He sighed as he dropped his hand and took a step backwards. 'It is, Aunt Hannah.'

  'What excellent timing, my dear. I was just thinking about stopping at Gunter's for refreshments. Will you join us?'

  'Thank you, but I'm afraid I cannot. I have an appointment at Angelo's.'

  'What's this? Have you traded your fists for a foil, Sebastian?'

  A smile ruffled his mouth. 'Not entirely. I still enjoy a match with the Gentleman when he has time, but I have always found the skill and finesse of fencing more satisfying. And of late, I have found Signor Angelo's rooms to be far less congested than Mr Jackson's.'

  Lady Charlton sighed in disappointment. 'Well, we shall miss the pleasure of your company, my dear, but gentlemen must have their sport. Come along, Miss Nash, you and I shall go and enjoy the confections ourselves.'

  Not sure whether to be relieved or disappointed that he was not to join them, Desiree offered Sebastian a tremulous smile and then quickly followed Lady Charlton out. The temptation to turn around and see if he was watching her was very strong.

  She was thankful that she had learned long ago, how not to give in to temptation.

  The diminutive Lady Appleby was not at all what Desiree had been expecting. Garbed in a fantastic gown that must surely have belonged to her grandmother, she wore her grizzled white hair in an elaborate pompadour, insisted on wearing buckled shoes, and even sported a tiny black patch on her left cheek. And she stood no higher than Desiree's shoulder.

  'My dear, I am so very delighted to see you again. And Miss Nash, you are most welcome,' Lady Appleby said in a voice that was surprisingly robust for her size. 'Now, I have reserved the Yellow Saloon upstairs for cards and we already have quite a few games under way. Lady Fortescue particularly requested the honour of your first set, Hannah, so I kept one table in reserve. I hope you do not mind.'

  'I do not mind so long as I am not expected to pass the entire evening in her company,' Lady Charlton replied. 'Lady Fortescue is a formidable opponent but I find her conversation boring at the best of times. And I do not care for her niece at all.'

  'Miss Gregory is a milk-and-water miss, to be sure,' Lady Appleby agreed, the mound of hair upon her head suddenly tilting precariously to the right. 'But you need spend only as much time in their company as you wish. And I doubt you will find her conversation lacking this evening. There has been considerable talk of The Wicked Marquis of late, and with Miss Nash hailing from the area in which the main character resides, no doubt mention will be made of it again.'

  'The Wicked Marquis?' Desiree glanced at the older woman in bewilderment. 'Forgive me, Lady Appleby, but I am not familiar with the name. Is that a play?'

  'Oh, no, my dear, it is a most highly entertaining book. It came out a little while ago from the Minerva Press, and while no one knows who the author is, most agree that it is very well done. It pokes fun at some of the most illustrious gentlemen of the Ton. Certainly there can be no doubt as to the real identity of Beau Broombrain. Or that Sir Hugely Perfect was actually a young Hugo Perceval.'

  'Be that as it may, there is no reason to think Miss Nash would be familiar with the work simply because she lived near Steepwood Abbey, Letty,' Lady Charlton pointed out. 'Certainly no ladies of my acquaintance have admitted to reading it.'

  'Nor have any of mine, but it is remarkable how many are familiar with .it regardless,' Lady Appleby said with a smile as she turned to lead the way upstairs.

  'You said one of the characters lived near the Abbey,' Desiree said. 'Does the book come right out and say who it is?'

  'Not in so many words, but there is no question it is the Marquis of Sywell. The conduct and mannerisms of the fictitious Marquis of Rapeall can leave no doubt in anyone's mind.'

  Recognising the similarity between the character's name and the real Marquis's propensity for womanising, Desiree gasped. 'Oh my! Are all of his descriptions so...uncomplimentary?'

  'For the most part,' Lady Charlton said. 'Sebastian himself was made sport of as Lord Baconwit, though I tried to assure him the author must have been speaking of someone else, and his good friend Wyndham was characterised as Viscount Windyhead. And I am sure Lord Dungarren was not at all pleased at being referred to as Lord Dunthinkin. The author has taken considerable liberties, and I daresay he shall be taken to task for it once his identity is revealed.'

  'Which is likely why he is taking such pains to keep it concealed,' Lady Appleby said, chuckling in amusement. 'Especially since he eventually murders the Marquis with rather bloodthirsty glee. Well, here we are.'

  The room they entered was quite spacious and Desiree could see why it was called the Yellow Saloon. The walls were covered in strips of pale yellow silk and the drapings and brocade upholstery throughout were of varying shades of yellow and gold. Paintings with ornately gilded frames covered nearly every inch of wall and there were knick-knacks and statuary everywhere. At least, everywhere there was not a card table and chairs set up.

  In a matter of minutes, Desiree found herself seated across from Lady Charlton at one of the tables, with the famed Lady Fortescue and her niece sitting on either side of them. Lady Fortescue was a masculine-looking woman in her late forties, while her niece was a pale and meek-looking thing of perhaps two-and-twenty. Desiree soon found herself in agreement with her employer as to the brilliance of their opponents' conversation. It was monotonous at best, and Desiree almost wished for some mention of the scandalous book all London was talking about.

  Unfortunately, it seemed that no discussion of The Wicked Marquis was to be allowed to distract play at this table. Lady Fortescue was clearly determined to win, and after only a few moments, Desiree found herself immersed in the game and exceedingly grateful for the skills her mother had taught her.

  For all their single-minded determination, however, Lady Fortescue and her niece were not equal to the challenge. Desiree and Lady Charlton handily took the first rubber, and were well on their way to claiming the second when Lady Fortescue abruptly brought the proceedings to a halt by claiming a slight indisposition of the stomach. At that point, Lady Charlton smiled, rose and thanked them for a most enjoyable game. Desiree rose too and dutifully accompanied Lady Charlton back downstairs.

  'Thank you, Miss Nash, that was excellent,' Lady Charlton said in a voice of obvious satisfaction. 'I have not thrashed Lady Fortescue that soundly in a long time. I have no doubt her slight indisposition was merely an excuse to bring the rubber to a halt. You play exceedingly well.'

  Desiree inclined her head as they stepped into a high-ceilinged room where a series of couples were already engaged in the lively steps of a country dance. 'Thank you, Lady Charlton, but you are a formidable player yourself. Indeed, had you and I played against my mother and father, I am not sure who would have won, though I dare say it would have made for an excellent match.'

  They soon found chairs alo
ng the wall and sat for a little while watching the dancers.

  'Oh, dash it all,' Lady Charlton exclaimed suddenly. 'I have left my shawl in the card room. Would you be so good as to fetch it for me, my dear? I seem to be feeling a draught.'

  'Yes, of course, Lady Charlton.' Desiree rose and quickly made her way back to the Yellow Saloon. She was not particularly surprised to see that Lady Fortescue had recovered from her indisposition and that she and her niece were back at a table with another pair of ladies. But she was very surprised when she looked up a few moments later and saw Sebastian standing in the opposite doorway.

  'Miss Nash,' he said, crossing the floor as soon as he saw her. 'How disappointing. I had hoped to arrive in time to see you and my aunt engaged in a battle of wits with Lady Fortescue and her niece, but I fear I have come too late.'

  'I'm afraid you have, Lord Buckworth. Lady Fortescue was compelled to bring the set to an early close,' Desiree whispered, 'but I think Lady Charlton had already decided that we had made a sufficient mark at the tables.'

  'You mean you won?'

  'Every game.'

  'My word, Aunt Hannah must be as merry as a grig.'

  Desiree laughed and was astonished at how light-hearted she suddenly felt. Just seeing Sebastian's handsome face was enough to make her senses spin. 'Yes, I believe she was. But surely the opportunity of seeing us play was not your only purpose in coming?'

  'To tell the truth, it wasn't. I came to collect a debt from Lady Appleby,' Sebastian informed her with a grin. 'She owes me a small matter of some thirty pounds.'

  Desiree's eyes opened wide. 'Gracious, Lord Buckworth, never say that you would actually take that sweet old lady's money?'

  'For your information, Miss Nash, that sweet old lady is as cunning as they come. I have seen her relieve swaggering young greenhorns of their allowances and unwitting ladies of their pin-money. You would do well to keep your distance from her,' he cautioned.

  The thought of Lady Appleby being a scheming trickster caused Desiree to burst out laughing—and several pairs of eyes to turn and glare in her direction. Sebastian himself was hard pressed to keep a straight face. 'Come, Miss Nash, I think it is time we left,' he advised, observing the expressions all around them. 'We seem to be disturbing the level of concentration in the room.'

  Desiree dutifully retrieved Lady Charlton's shawl and then accompanied Lord Buckworth back downstairs.

  As expected, Lady Charlton was thoroughly delighted to see her nephew. 'But what are you doing here, Sebastian? I thought you were to have dined with Lord Mackenzie this evening.'

  'Lord Mackenzie is stricken with toothache, so I came here thinking to witness your supremacy at cards,' he told her. 'But alas, I arrived too late.'

  At that, Lady Charlton's expression grew decidedly smug. 'That is the best rubber of whist I have played in months. Indeed, if Miss Nash were a gentleman, I should accuse her of being a gamester.'

  'Lady Charlton!' Desiree exclaimed. 'I have never resorted to cheating in my life. I simply apply my mind and remember which cards have been played.'

  'And you do it very well, my dear,' her employer said, patting her hand. 'I vow it will be a long time before Hortense challenges me again. Well, I suppose we had best get something to eat before it is all gone. Sebastian, take Miss Nash and find somewhere for the three of us to sit, and preferably not in a draught. I'm going to have a word with Lady Appleby. By the by, has she paid you your thirty pounds yet?'

  'Not yet, but I intend to collect it before I leave.'

  'Then I shall be sure to warn her of your intentions. No doubt she will find some excuse to make herself scarce.' With a knowing smile, Lady Charlton headed off to find their hostess—and Desiree found herself once again alone in Sebastian's company.

  'Your aunt is truly a remarkable lady, Lord Buckworth,' she said as she followed him to a quiet table. 'I wonder that she has remained a widow all these years.'

  'I would venture to say it is only because she does not choose to seek the company of any particular gentleman.'

  'But surely some gentleman has sought hers? She is such entertaining company, and under that brusque exterior, she is possessed of a very kind heart.'

  'She is indeed, Desiree. Much like the young lady she has employed to be her companion,' Sebastian said softly as he bent over her.

  His words caused Desiree's breath to catch in her throat. She looked up at him, standing so close that she could see the dark flecks in his eyes, and felt a pulse begin to beat in her throat.

  'Ride with me tomorrow,' Sebastian said in a husky whisper. 'My aunt tells me that you enjoy the sport and I long to see you on horseback. We could go for a gallop through the park early in the morning, before there are many about.'

  'A 1-lady does not gallop,' Desiree said, stumbling over the words.

  'A lady might not, but Artemis would.'

  Desiree started. Artemis, the great virgin goddess of fertility, wild animals and the chase. She was not at all sure how to take his comparison.

  'Lord Buckworth, I cannot just leave Lady Charlton to go off riding with you. Whatever would she say?'

  'Does my aunt not give you time off during the week?'

  'Yes, but only in the afternoon.'

  'Then I shall speak to her about switching your afternoon for a morning. I cannot believe that she would be unwilling to forgo a trip to the shops for a few hours. But I want to hear your answer, Desiree. Is it to be yes, or no?'

  No, shouted the voice in her head. This path will bring you heartache and despair. It can do nothing else.

  'Yes. I should like that...very much,' Desiree said, blissfully ignoring the voice. Because there was no point in listening to it now. The heartache was already here and she had no doubt that despair would surely follow.

  She had fallen in love with Sebastian Moore. And nothing she did now—including a ride in the park—was going to make any difference!

  Chapter Eight

  The following day dawned clear and bright. There was nary a cloud in the sky and the breeze was warm with the promise of approaching summer. In short, a perfect morning for a ride.

  Unable to sleep past seven o'clock, Desiree rose and donned one of her new riding habits: an elegant ensemble in royal-blue broadcloth with black frogging on the jacket and matching black trim around the edge of the full skirt. Her hat—a dashing confection of blue and black—sat prettily on her upswept hair. Sebastian had told her that he would call for her at half past eight and Desiree knew he would not be late. He wanted to arrive at the park while it was still relatively quiet, a plan with which Desiree had been in complete accord. If they hoped to enjoy a good gallop, it would have to be well before the crowds descended and made the paths impassable.

  Desiree's only concern was the length of time since she had been on horseback and the chance that she might not acquit herself well in the saddle. She needn't have worried, however. As soon as she was comfortably settled in the saddle atop Lady Charlton's sprightly chestnut mare, she knew that everything was going to be all right. She felt the familiar movement of the horse beneath her and immediately relaxed into it.

  'I thought as much,' Sebastian commented with a nod of approval. 'You have the look of a seasoned equestrienne, Desiree.'

  Desiree smiled as she gathered the reins in her hands. 'I do not know about my being a seasoned equestrienne, my lord, but at least I do not feel in danger of falling off as I feared might be the case.'

  'You look very comfortable and pretty indeed,' Sebastian complimented her. 'Nor do I think you will be reluctant to gallop once we reach our destination.'

  And Desiree wasn't. As soon as they reached the park and beheld the verdant green fields rolling out before them, they put their horses to a canter and then spurred them on to a gallop. Desiree felt like laughing out loud for the sheer joy of it. She had been confined for such a long time; forced to put up with the restrictions of her life so that even the most simple of youthful pleasures had been denied. But now
to be riding a spirited horse again, with the open fields ahead of them and the man she loved by her side, her happiness knew no bounds.

  Sebastian, of course, was a superb rider. He and the black stallion moved as one, his gloved hands lightly holding the reins yet controlling the big horse with ease. The wind had blown the dark hair back from his face, and against the warm brown of his skin his teeth flashed a brilliant white. Truly, he made her feel as breathless as the ride!

  When she sensed that her mount was finally beginning to tire, Desiree conscientiously drew her in. She had no wish to tire the mare and gently pulled back on the reins, already knowing how responsive the mare's mouth was. Sebastian, however, was hard pressed to bring the stallion to as graceful a halt. The animal was obviously reluctant to curtail his gallop and put on a great show of snorting and head-tossing as he finally came to a prancing stop.

  'Your aunt's mare is positively delightful,' Desiree said, observing with amusement the stallion's performance. 'Indeed, she is almost as fleet of foot as your own big brute, and she is certainly better behaved.'

  'Big brute? Have a care, Aphrodite, Trojan does not take kindly to being unfavourably compared to a mare,' Sebastian told her. 'He is merely in high spirits and feeling his oats. As for being as fleet of foot, the mare would not have stood a chance had I let Trojan have his head. In truth, I held him in check so that you might not lag too far behind.'

  'Ah, then I fear I owe him—and his owner—an apology,' Desiree said, sending him what could only be deemed a flirtatious glance. 'For certainly it was not my intent to injure either with my observation.'

  After the exhilaration of the gallop, the two walked their horses in silence for a while, content to enjoy the freshness of the morning and to savour the peace and quiet of the park at this early hour of the day.

  'How ironic to think that in only a few hours, we should be hard pressed to find room to walk our horses, let alone gallop them,' Desiree commented with a smile.

  'That is why morning has always been my favourite time of day. When the mist is still on the lake and the grass is heavy with dew, everything seems so fresh and clean. And it is the only time one can truly enjoy a gallop.'