Worth of a Lady (The Marriage Maker Book 1)

by Tarah Scott

  He smiled gently at Jessica. "You do not care for the idea of marriage, Lady Jessica." It wasn't a question.

  She shook her head. “I don't need another man ordering me around."

  He laughed. The deep, rich sound filled the room—to Chastity’s irritation. "What about you ordering him around?"

  Jessica paused and considered, then shook her head again. "Too much trouble."

  Sir Stirling threw his head back and laughed heartily, and Chastity felt the first real fingers of fear creeping up her spine.

  ***

  Lucy knew Chastity wasn't pleased. Despite her displeasure, she’d obeyed their father and helped them prepare for the evening’s ball. Lucy’s pale green gown flattered her light brown hair, which Chastity had arranged into curls that framed her face. Lucy scarcely recognized the young woman who stared back at her in the mirror.

  On the way to the ball, Chastity told her a dozen times how beautiful she was, and even Jessica had cooed over the ribbons in her hair. Now, however, with Chastity on her left, their father on her right, and her two sisters beside him as they entered the ballroom, she felt more like a little girl playing dress-up than a woman about to meet the man she was supposed to marry.

  They paused at the top of the four steps leading down to the ballroom. Four huge chandeliers lit the expansive room, their glitter reflected in mirrors, while their flickering candlelight sent prismatic colors whirling across the gleaming marble floor. The effect was so dazzling, Lucy almost felt dizzy.

  "Remember, Chastity," their father said, "you are to chaperone Lucy. Mrs. Abercrombie will look after your other two sisters.”

  Chastity sighed. "You have told me a dozen times, and a dozen times I have assured you that I will do nothing less, no matter the situation."

  "Try to trick me in any way, and I will marry you to Lord Hathaway on the morrow," he said.

  Lucy worried at the dark look Chastity shot him. He gave no reply, but took Jessica and Olivia in search of Mrs. Abercrombie. Lucy accompanied Chastity. Chastity appeared nonchalant, but Lucy saw her gaze sweep the room. She had to be searching for Sir Stirling. Even in such a crowd, he would stand out. Lucy was also anxious to find Stirling. Was the man he’d matched her with already here? What was he like? Surely, he wouldn’t be as old and chubby as Lord Hathaway. She’d slept little last night, imaging what kind of man he might be. Was he someone they already knew? Anticipation mixed with apprehension caused a tremor to ripple through her midsection. The orchestra played a country dance. Lucy matched her pace to Chastity’s slow stride as they paralleled the left wall. They reached a small alcove with a couch.

  “I suppose we can rest here until we see Sir Stirling,” Chastity said.

  Lucy hesitated. It would be difficult for him to see them over the heads of the guests if they were sitting. Chastity sat. Lucy scanned the guests nearest the open balcony doors, but found no sign of Sir Stirling. She did catch sight of her father’s closest friend’s son, Robert Hamilton, and wondered if Robert’s three brothers had accompanied him. She hadn’t seen them since the youngest of the clan, Liam, had wed, three months past.

  “Please, sit down.” Chastity patted the cushion beside her.

  Lucy looked at her. “We only just arrived. I don’t mind stretching my legs after the carriage ride.”

  “You are worried that he will not see us,” Chastity said.

  Lucy frowned. “You seem ill at ease. What is wrong?”

  “What is wrong?” she repeated. “How can you ask that when we are here to meet a stranger chosen to be your husband?”

  “Have a little faith in Papa, Chastity. He has cared for us all these years. He will not willingly hand us over to disreputable men.”

  “Father—”

  "Good evening, ladies."

  Chastity’s eyes snapped to Sir Stirling as he joined Lucy. A tall, dark- haired man halted at his right.

  "Lady Chastity." Eyes on her face, Sir Stirling grasped her gloved right hand and brought it to his lips.

  Her eyes narrowed but, thankfully, she didn't snatch her hand back, as Lucy expected.

  He released her and faced Lucy. "Lady Lucy, may I introduce Baron Delny.”

  Shock reverberated through Lucy. Baron Delny—the Devil of Delny?

  Chastity shot to her feet as the baron reached for Lucy’s hand. "The Devil of Delny?"

  The handsome rogue, his eyes on Lucy, lifted her hand to his mouth and brushed his lips against her gloved fingers. Lucy flushed and dropped her gaze.

  He released her and turned to Chastity, his lips quirking. "Aye, my lady, I have been called that." His deep voice sent another tremor rippling through Lucy.

  Chastity turned blazing eyes onto Stirling. "Certainly, this gentleman is not who you have in mind to marry Lucy?"

  "Indeed, he is," he replied, unruffled.

  Chastity scoffed. "My God, you have bollocks trying to match a rake with my sister."

  “Chastity,” Lucy whispered, “please lower your voice. We are at a ball.”

  A wicked glint appeared in Sir Stirling’s eyes. "We were all rogues at one time, my lady."

  She lifted her chin. "That is not a recommendation."

  "She has you there, Stirling," the baron said.

  Sir Stirling smiled. "That she does. The orchestra is playing a waltz. Why don't you two dance while I fetch my betrothed some champagne?"

  "I am not your betrothed," Chastity hissed.

  “Not your betrothed?” The baron cast a confused look at him. “Stirling told me you two were to wed June first.”

  “Indeed?” Chastity clasped her hands as if she were trying to keep from boxing Sir Stirling’s ears.

  “Chastity, please,” Lucy begged. “You are drawing attention to us.”

  But she seemed to have eyes only for the baron. “Sir Stirling is to marry me only if he marries my three sisters to reputable men by the end of this month.”

  Two older women walking past glanced their way.

  “Chastity, you do not want the terms of your agreement to become common knowledge,” Lucy said. “We should not be talking about this here.”

  The baron laughed. “By God, Stirling, you have outdone yourself this time.” He looked at Chastity. “I am afraid Stirling has misled you. I am not a reputable man.”

  Chastity snorted. “That we know.” She looked at Sir Stirling “The game is up, sir. With your first efforts, you have breached our agreement.”

  “I am surprised at you, Lady Chastity,” he said. “As a rational woman, I expected you to know better than to put so much stock in gossip.”

  “Don’t be too hard on her, Stirling,” the baron said. “After all, I am—” He broke off when Sir Stirling turned cold eyes on him.

  “I believe you were about to dance with Lady Lucy,” Stirling said in a quiet voice that sent a chill down Lucy’s arms.

  Baron Delny hesitated, then turned to Lucy. “If you will, my lady.” He winged an arm.

  "I will not allow the Devil of Delny to dance with my sister," Chastity bristled.

  “You know Papa would want me to dance with him,” Lucy whispered.

  “They are playing a waltz,” she said. “Such a dance is indecent, and Papa would not allow it.”

  A group of men strolled past.

  “Chastity—” Lucy began.

  “It is my responsibility to keep you from harm,” her sister cut in.

  “Quinn will not harm Lady Lucy,” Sir Stirling said. “He knows how to be a gentleman.”

  “Not according to the papers,” Chastity said, and Sir Stirling lifted a brow that said, ‘Only silly females believe everything they read in gossip columns.’

  Tears burned the corners of Lucy’s eyes. Things were not going at all as she’d hoped. She looked from Chastity to the baron. “Oh, Chastity.” Lucy turned and fled.

  “Damn,” Stirling cursed.

  Chastity started after her, but he seized her arm.

  “Let me go,” she ordered.


  “Not just yet, my lady.” He looked at the baron. “Quinn, go after her. Get her some champagne—” Chastity opened her mouth to object, but he said, “One glass only, and do not leave the party. Do you understand?”

  Quinn angled his head, then addressed Chastity, “I may be a rake, ma’am, but I do not seduce maidens.” He slanted his gaze onto Stirling. “She is very young, is she not?”

  “As are you, lad. Now go after her.”

  “I will go,” Chastity growled. “Release me.” She tried to pull free, but he held tight.

  The baron hurried after Lucy and Stirling turned hard eyes onto her.

  Chapter Four

  T he last thing Quinn had planned on doing was to chase after a virgin. He’d known Stirling would try to match him with a respectable woman, but a maiden? She was beautiful. But, as he’d told her sister, he didn’t seduce innocents—nor would he marry one. Stirling would have to understand.

  Quinn caught up with Lucy halfway around the dancefloor. “Lady Lucy,” he said as he fell into step alongside her.

  “Is that Quinn Ramsey?”

  Quinn would have preferred to keep going, but he knew that voice. He grasped Lady Lucy’s arm and stopped. “Lady Belmont.” He nodded at the small woman who squinted at him.

  “Haven’t see you in some time," she said. “I didn’t know that you were acquainted with Lady Lucy.”

  Heaven help her. Given a choice, Lucy would have avoided Lady Belmont. The woman was a self-appointed crusader. “Indeed, ma’am, we are acquainted through Sir Stirling, who introduced us just this evening.”

  The older woman’s mouth thinned in disapproval.

  “We must hurry to make the dance, my lady.”

  The baron held out his hand and Lucy was forced to place her hand on his or risk the ire of the old biddy. Quinn smiled at the woman, then led Lucy toward the dancefloor. They reached the edge of the dancers. He pulled her close and stepped into the rhythm of the music. She started at the warmth of his arms around her waist. They danced so close…

  “Your sister isn't pleased with our match," the baron said.

  Lucy started from her thoughts. The man was straightforward. "Nae, she isn’t. You must understand, she is very protective of my sisters and me. She is right, you know. You do have a terrible reputation.”

  She spoke without rancor, and he couldn’t get angry. Most women either condemned him for his reputation or wanted to partake of his…talents.

  “Forgive me for asking, sir, but why did you agree to marry me? We have never met. For all you knew, you might have gotten—” She broke off. Lord help her, she was as bad as Jessica.

  A corner of his mouth twitched and she was surprised when her heart fluttered. “I could have gotten a younger version of Lady Belmont?” he finished for her.

  She knew better, but couldn’t help a smile. “You are a rogue, sir.”

  “Guilty as charged.”

  She studied his face. “You do not care that others brand you a rake?”

  “Are you bothered by the fact it is true?” he countered.

  “I cannot say,” she replied before considering if the answer was correct.

  He laughed. “Then you are a most unusual husband-hunting female.”

  “I beg your pardon. I am not husband-hunting.”

  He raised a brow. “Nae? You attended this ball looking for a husband.”

  “A husband, as in, you?” she replied with amusement.

  By God, the lass was laughing at him.

  His attention snagged on her eyes. He couldn’t remember seeing eyes so blue.

  “You think well of yourself, sir,” she said.

  He flashed a smile. “Why not? I am, after all, a rogue.”

  “Oh, indeed you are,” she rejoined, and he realized she wasn’t impressed.

  “I haven’t tried to seduce you,” he said. And was started by the yet that sprang to mind.

  “My lord, I am not so addle-headed that I cannot see that you are trying to charm me, even now.”

  He whirled her in a tight turn, hugging her close. She tightened her fingers on his shoulder. Her pulse jumped at the press of his firm thighs against her legs. Chastity was right. The dance was indecent. For an instant, the room spun and the rainbow light from the chandelier crystals swooped in on her, again making her lightheaded, but Quinn slowed with the music, and the disorientation passed. His face came into focus and she found him staring down at her.

  “You have not yet had a season,” he said.

  Her face heated. “No,” she replied.

  “Why, then, would you agree to marry me?”

  Thankfully, the music ended, and she was saved from answering his uncomfortable question. He slipped her hand into the crook of his arm and led her from the dancefloor.

  “Shall we have that glass of champagne?” he asked.

  “If you wish.”

  A moment later, they entered the refreshments room. He seated her near the wall where a semi-circle of couches had been arranged for the comfort of matrons and dance-weary guests, then headed for the table laden with festive food and drink. Lucy told herself it was impolite to stare, but she couldn’t help but follow his progress across the room. She’d read about the Devil of Delny in the gossip columns, but she’d never seen him. He was as handsome as the devil was wicked, and was probably just as devilish. She had no doubt he deserved the reputation the papers credited him with. The smile he’d flashed on the dancefloor had melted her insides, and she’d feared he would recognize the affect he had on her. She had hoped to like the man chosen for her; she’d never dreamed he would make her weak-kneed with a mere look

  He reached the table and reached for two glasses of champagne. A woman at least twice his age stepped up beside him and—oh! Lucy’s face burned. The woman brushed her breast against his arm. Lucy glanced around, certain everyone in the room would be staring. But they went about their business as if nothing had happened. Perhaps they hadn’t noticed. The woman leaned close and whispered something in his ear. He stilled. Lucy watched as he shifted and his profile faced her.

  His mouth was a bare inch from the woman’s. She looked up at him. Lucy couldn’t see her eyes, but she saw Quinn’s mouth quirk. He said something, then turned toward her. Lucy yanked her gaze to her hands, then stared at the carpet. Her heart pounded. From the corner of her eye, she saw him approach and looked up as he reached her. Lucy accepted the champagne he held out as he settled onto the small couch beside her. She sipped.

  “What is this business about Stirling marrying you off in order to wed your sister?” he asked.

  Lucy choked on her champagne. The baron shifted so he faced her and patted her back several times. She held up a hand and he stopped. Slowly, she took a deep breath as her throat cleared.

  “Better?” he asked.

  She nodded and smiled.

  “Forgive me,” he said. “I didn’t mean to catch you off guard.”

  She hadn’t considered that the gentleman Sir Stirling chose for her wouldn’t know of the agreement between him and their father.

  “I am surprised Sir Stirling didn’t tell you about the arrangement,” she said.

  He laughed. To her chagrin, her face heated at the deep vibrancy of his laugh.

  “Stirling is fond of keeping secrets,” he said.

  Lucy looked at him. “Do you know him well?”

  Did he know him well? Stirling was the only brother he’d ever known, and he hadn’t abandoned Quinn when it would have been easy to do so. Quinn released a breath, then took a drink of champagne before meeting her eyes. His breath caught. Head tilted to the side, Lucy looked at him through thick, dark blonde lashes. Many a woman had looked up at him through their lashes—just as Elanor had a moment ago—but he’d never seen eyes as penetrating as Lucy’s. The unexpected desire to kiss her brought his gaze to her mouth—full, beautifully curved lips. He saw himself lowering he head until—

  “My lord.”

  Quinn jerked his gaze
up to her eyes. “What?’

  She frowned. “Are you unwell?”

  His heart pounded. Yes, he was unwell, but the affliction couldn’t be cured by a doctor. “I am fine. So, tell me more of this arrangement between your sister and Stirling.”

  She shook her head. “It isn’t between he and my sister, but between our father and him.”

  The baron frowned. “Who is your father?”

  “The Duke of Roxburgh.”

  “The devil you say?” He laughed. “By God, I should have known. Your sister will inherit the title, correct?”

  It was true. They’d all grown up knowing Chastity would carry on the title through her husband. But when Baron Delny said it aloud, Lucy suddenly realized she wasn't keen on marrying a stranger who had agreed to wed her in order to fulfill a quota for her future brother-in-law.

  "Why would you agree to this marriage?" she asked. He hesitated, and understanding dawned. “You didn’t agree.” Her heart fell. He knew nothing about their marriage arrangement.

  ***

  “Take your hands off me,” Chastity said through gritted teeth.

  Sir Stirling ignored her and, his iron grip on her elbow, continued his walk. They neared the open balcony doors and she realized his intent. “I do not want to go outside with you.”

  He kept going. They left the room and she thought he would stop, but he continued across the balcony and down the stairs.

  She tried to pull free. “I beg your pardon. I do not go into gardens with strange men.”

  They reached the edge of the lawn.

  “We should not be out here alone.”

  He halted just beyond the lights that spilled from the mansion and released her. Cool night air washed over her heated face. Chastity caught a whiff of sandalwood as she rounded on him. “See here, sir, I am not accustomed to—”

  “Enjoying the gardens at night with a man?” His teeth flashed white in the pale moonlight. “We have no’ had a chance to get to know one another, my lady, so I will forgive your lack of faith in me.”