The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy)

Home > Other > The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) > Page 13
The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) Page 13

by Linda Rae Sande


  Grandby inhaled, the scent of scotch still evident on his breath. There was really only one solution to the problem of Lady Evangeline. “’Bout time the chit was married, don’t you suppose?” he asked rhetorically.

  The butler clasped his hands behind his back, his gaze directed at the cobwebs decorating the ceiling. “I suppose,” he answered quietly as he resisted the urge to inhale sharply. The cob webs were positively ghoulish!

  The earl gave Jones a quelling look. “As her godfather, I’ve a mind to find her a husband myself,” he warned, not realizing that most would find his threat a preferable alternative to Lord Everly taking on the task. At nearly thirty, the earl was still a bachelor, and he wasn’t courting anyone ... unless he had met someone on his most recent travels to the Indian Ocean and southern coast of Africa.

  “Very good, my lord,” Jones replied with a nod. “Shall I inform my master when he returns from his trip?”

  Grandby regarded the butler for several moments before finally saying, “No. I’ll see to it.”

  With one more glance around the parlor, the earl took his leave of Rosemount House, anxious to have luncheon – and then dessert – with his wife.

  Chapter 24

  On Kisses and Dowries

  “I don’t suppose there is a single lady among the entire ton who tells a man to kiss her,” Evangeline murmured, still mortified by what she had asked of Lord Sommers the evening prior. And a bit surprised at herself this morning when she had told Jones she was on her way to Lady Samantha’s when in fact she was planning to meet the baron in Grosvenor Square.

  Jeffrey started to raise a shoulder to shrug, not sure how to put the earl’s sister at ease. He hadn’t minded being asked for a kiss in the least. He had been a bit surprised at his own reaction, though. Even knowing the butler was in the room, he hadn’t declined her invitation – and if he had to do it over again, he still wouldn’t. He had simply done her bidding and a bit more, but with her help.

  What she had done to him ... the memory of it now filled both his heads.

  “Oh, dear,” Evangeline sighed, her face pinking up even more. “Will you ever forgive me?” she asked in a quiet voice.

  Jeffrey shook his head. “No, milady, for there is no need to apologize,” he assured her. “So there is nothing to forgive. And, as for ladies asking for kisses, Lady Bostwick does it all the time with her George,” he said, relieved that he could give the earl’s daughter at least one example of another lady who asked to be kissed.

  Evangeline seemed overly concerned at having told him to kiss her, and although he was a bit shocked at the demand, he’d also felt just bit ... thrilled. Even more so when her hand had done such wonders for his manhood – literally and figuratively. Given her ready and positive response to his early morning missive about reading the book in Grosvenor Square if the fine weather held, he thought she was completely unaware of what she had done – apparently all in her sleep. “Or, so the on-dit would have it,” he added with a nod, having to return his mental attention to George Bennett-Jones or risk a repeat of the night before. Right out in front of everyone in the square.

  Evangeline straightened on the park bench. “Lady Bostwick?” she breathed. That would be just like Elizabeth Carlington Bennett-Jones, Evangeline realized. The founder of her own charity, she was said to be very devoted to Viscount Bostwick. Devoted, no doubt, because George Bennett-Jones doted on her. Because he saw to it there was constant funding for her charity. And because he was said to leave little gifts for her to find throughout the house they shared in Park Lane – gifts he left for no particular reason other than he liked his lady to be happy.

  The ladies of the ton knew such things because Elizabeth always spoke rather highly of her husband whilst in the parlors of Mayfair. “I should think Lord Bostwick would be the one demanding kisses given how generous he is with Lady Bostwick,” Evangeline commented.

  Jeffrey regarded her with a grin. “Oh, not George,” he said with a shake of his head. “The man has been in love with his wife since the first time he spotted her at a ball.” He turned on the park bench so he faced her. “She was dancing with Lord Trenton at the time,” he said with a smirk. “Although, I often wonder if his affections were more due to her charity. One of his close friends was its first beneficiary.”

  Evangeline turned her own body on the bench so she could regard the baron. “Indeed?” she replied.

  “One day, we were in the middle of a session of Parliament when a footman arrived looking for him. Seems his lady was feeling some discomfort – she was with child at the time – and requested his immediate presence at their home.”

  Suppressing a knowing smile, Evangeline wondered if Lord Sommers knew what George had done to help relieve his wife’s pain. “Did he leave the chambers, then?” she wondered with an arched eyebrow, knowing in fact that he had.

  “He did!” Jeffrey replied with widened eyes, obviously happy to share his tale. “And then he returned an hour-and-a-half later. Had a rather satisfied look on his face, too,” he added with a sudden hint of derision.

  Evangeline cocked her head to one side. “Would you do such a thing, do you suppose?” she wondered, an expression of curiosity on her face.

  Jeffrey regarded her for a moment, a look of surprise appearing on his face. “Whatever do you mean?”

  Not able to prevent the blush she could feel coloring her face, Elizabeth lowered her head. “Would you hurry to your wife’s side should she need sexual congress to relieve her back pain?” she wondered in what she hoped sounded like a teasing tone.

  Jeffrey Althorpe was suddenly aware his mouth wasn’t completely closed. And over the course of the nearly ten seconds it took him to consider how to answer Lady Evangeline’s question, his jaw dropped a bit more, leaving his mouth wide open. “My lady,” he struggled to get out, his words meant to scold when in fact they made him sound as if he were in awe. “I ...” He stopped when he realized Evangeline was waiting for his answer with baited breath, as if she weren’t teasing him at all but truly wondered if he would do his wife’s bidding. “I would, I suppose. If she thought it would ... help,” he struggled to get out.

  Good God! Had the chit actually asked him if he would have sexual intercourse with her?

  No. No, she most certainly had not.

  She had merely asked if he would hurry to his wife’s side. Well, if he would hurry to her side because she needed sexual intercourse, then of course he would accommodate her!

  Evangeline took a breath, forced to do so when a pleasant little shiver suddenly shot down her spine and settled between her thighs. “I should think you will have a happy wife, then,” she murmured with a nod, hoping the baron hadn’t noticed her entire body vibrate just then.

  “Happy wife, happy life,” Jeffrey countered, the words coming out before he’d had a chance to think where he had heard the expression before. At the gaming tables, no doubt. From one of his married friends. Lord Devonville, no doubt.

  Evangeline giggled, the musical sound making Jeffrey smile. “What is it that has you so amused?” he asked, finding her happiness infectious.

  “You, my lord,” she answered, a smile still gracing her face. “How is it a man of your good humor and handsome appearance is still unmarried?” The words were out before Evangeline could censor them, before she realized they sounded exactly as if they had been spoken by Geraldine Porterhouse. “Oh, do forgive me, Lord Sommers,” she added, hoping he hadn’t heard a word of what she’d just said. “I do believe Miss Porterhouse’s behavior is having an ill effect on me.”

  Jeffrey stared at Evangeline for a moment, stunned by her question. She finds me of good humor? And handsome? His heart suddenly beating at twice its normal speed, Jeffrey found it hard to hear himself think.

  What was the question again?

  How is it a man of your good
humor and handsome appearance is unmarried?

  “I am a baron,” he answered simply, as if being a baron precluded him from being married. “A baron of a barony that seems to be lacking funds on a regular basis. And given my position in the ton, I find I cannot work and remain in good stead with other members of the ton,” he continued as if suddenly on a roll. “Had I Michael Cunningham’s head for business and ability with my fists, I might have taken his stance and simply aligned myself with a savvy businessman and earned some money through doing business in coal gas and smelting and taking the occasional bet in a bare knuckle mill. The ton be damned! Or,” he continued, apparently unaware he had cursed in the presence of a lady, “Had I known how little my father had in the way of a fortune, I could have taken Lord Norwick’s position and built one with a popular brothel and gaming hell, and then sold it when I inherited so there would be plenty of working capital for the rest of my life,” he explained with a wave of his hand. He stared at Evangeline for a full second before adding, “But I didn’t. I didn’t know how destitute he was. So, instead ... I find myself with a continuous stream of bills and a slightly less continuous trickle of income.”

  With the last statement, Jeffrey settled back into the bench, crossed his arms, and took a deep breath, his eyes closing as if he regretted having spoken every word.

  Lady Evangeline regarded the baron for a very long time. From the anger in his voice, she sensed the man wasn’t looking for sympathy but rather a solution to his problem. And she had the distinct impression he would embrace it should she have a workable suggestion for him.

  “I do believe you need to find a wife with a substantial dowry,” she offered, not able to think of anything else she could say to assuage the baron.

  Jeffrey stared at Evangeline for a very long time, amazed that she knew enough not to speak words of sympathy or suggest he set up a brothel and a gaming hell or contact Cunningham about how to go about setting up businesses based on coal gas and smelting.

  Or learn how to fight.

  Thank the gods!

  “A wife?” he repeated, incredulous.

  “Yes,” Evangeline replied with a nod.

  Stunned by her simple reply, Jeffrey stared at her for several seconds. “Who would marry me?” he asked, thinking his circumstances precluded anyone from seeing his worth as a husband.

  Evangeline took a breath, wondering why the baron couldn’t be a bit more perceptive. “The daughter of a very rich tradesman,” she offered, thinking that’s what Michael Cunningham had done when he married his wife, Olivia. “Or the young widow of a coal baron,” she continued, noting his brows furrowing in contemplation. “Or a daughter of an earl who hasn’t yet found a suitable match,” she finished, hoping he had enough sense to realize she meant her.

  Jeffrey shook his head as if he’d been hit by one of Michael Cunningham’s left hooks. “A young widow?” he repeated.

  It was Evangeline’s turn to close her eyes. “I don’t know of one in particular,” she said with a shake of her head. “The Marquess of Devonville married one,” she said, thinking of Cherice Dubois, the former Lady Winslow. The widow’s mourning period had been over for exactly one day when William Slater, Marquess of Devonville, made it clear to her and everyone else in the ton that she was to be his next marchioness.

  Just as Jeffrey was about to consider unmarried daughters of the aristocracy, he realized the idiocy of their discussion. Lady Evangeline was just such a woman. Unmarried. The daughter of an earl. And probably very able when it came to carnal matters, he considered suddenly, remembering what her hands had been doing whilst she napped in the parlor the night before. Perhaps the boldness in how she spoke just then might be matched with her behavior in the marriage bed.

  Like Geraldine, he thought suddenly.

  Bold, brash Geraldine. Evangeline was just like her in so many ways. No wonder she had been such an appropriate inspiration when he wrote the character. She was perfect for him. He had practically ruined her in the parlor the night before. It only made sense he marry the chit.

  The thought of Evangeline’s brother forced him to sober up a bit, though.

  The Earl of Everly.

  Damn the man! He wasn’t even in England at the moment. Who knew when the earl would return so that Jeffrey could ask for permission to court Evangeline?

  “When will your brother return to these shores?” he asked suddenly.

  Evangeline lifted one shoulder, surprised by the query. “I expect him in the next few days,” she answered. “Why do you ask?”

  The next few days?

  Jeffrey bit his lip. Well, it wasn’t as if he needed time to think about it. Perhaps Lady Evangeline would need some time, he considered. But why would she suggest ‘the unmarried daughter of an earl’ if she wasn’t referring to herself?

  “I need to speak with him when he returns is all,” Jeffrey replied with a shrug.

  Evangeline realized the baron would not be continuing any talk of a potential wife just then, which was just as well given her brother’s continued absence. She indicated the book. “Shall we find out how Ballantine and Lady Geraldine fare on their ride in the park?” she asked, realizing she would need to read from wherever she was when she dozed off the night before.

  Noting the book still lying open on his thigh, Jeffrey nodded. “Yes, let’s,” he replied, even though he would rather have spent their time together in conversation. But there was the book, and he was rather curious as to how much his publisher might have changed in this chapter.

  He glanced at Evangeline, realizing she was regarding him with a rather odd expression. He stared at her for a very long time, knowing he should say something – anything – but to do so right now wouldn’t be proper. He needed to speak with her brother before he put voice to his plan.

  The two slowly lowered their eyes to the book and began to read – both from the very beginning of the same chapter they had supposedly read the night before.

  Chapter 25

  A Godfather and his Countess Discuss Propriety

  Having just enjoyed his second helping of dessert with his wife, Milton Grandby, Earl of Torrington, held his wife against the side of his naked body. Adele was nearly naked as well, save for the pearl necklace that graced her neck.

  “I rather like this on you,” Grandby remarked as one of his fingers traced the row of cream-colored pearls.

  Adele grinned. “You say that about all of my jewelry,” she whispered. “Probably because you didn’t have to buy it for me,” she teased.

  Grandby pinched her bare bottom. “Careful, there, my love. When I’m good and ready, I’ll bestow you with jewels that will put those to shame,” he claimed as he settled his head into the feather pillow.

  His wife lifted her head to regard her husband with a quizzical brow. “I truly don’t need more baubles,” she said quietly. She traced the blond curls that covered his chest, occasionally reaching down with her lips to kiss them. “I had several callers this morning,” she said suddenly, as if she had been waiting for the perfect time to share a concern with the earl.

  “Don’t you always have a houseful?” he wondered, his eyes closed as he enjoyed her gentle touching. In all his early years, when he had employed mistresses rather than take a wife, and then later, when he preferred the company of widows, Grandby thought never to marry. After spending a Season escorting Adele Worthington to every ball and acting as host for her annual musicale, he suddenly realized he couldn’t abide living without her. They were married by special license a few months later.

  “Hmm,” Adele murmured. “It wasn’t the callers so much as the gossip. It seems Lady Evangeline is suddenly the on-dit,” she said with a good deal of concern.

  Adele was suddenly displaced from her position half atop her husband when he sat up and turned to stare down at her. “What a
re they saying?” he asked, a bit of urgency in his voice.

  Pulling a bed linen over her bared breasts, as much for warmth as for modesty when she realized their shared intimacy was over, Adele sighed. “Her neighbor claims a young man has been visiting the house – a couple of mornings this past week – and that Lord Everly isn’t yet in residence. Is that true?”

  Grandby squeezed his eyes shut. “Did anyone say anything about last night?” he asked, one hand over his eyes. He split his fingers so he could peek at his obviously shocked wife whilst she considered his question. “No,” she answered with a shake of her head. “What happened last night?” she asked in alarm, raising herself so she could prop herself on one elbow.

  Settling back into the mattress, Grandby sighed. “Lord Sommers showed up at nine o’clock so they could read a book,” he said with a shrug.

  Adele stared at her husband for several seconds. Lord Sommers? “Then, what have they been doing in the mornings?” she wondered, her brows furrowed.

  “Reading a book,” Grandby replied simply. “We are discussing Evangeline, remember,” he said with a hint of impatience.

  Sighing, Adele fell back into the mattress. “I’ll have a word with her,” she murmured, a half-smile touching her lips. She was quiet for a moment, thinking she would pay a call on the earl’s sister. Or perhaps invite her for tea the following afternoon. Evangeline would probably be reading with Lord Sommers in the morning. “They must be reading The Story of a Baron.”

  Grandby opened his eyes again. “How did you know?” he asked in surprise.

  “Oh, it’s all the rage now, seeing as how it’s sold out at the Temple. I managed to get the last copy Hatchard’s had on their shelves,” she said with a good deal of pride.

  Grandby stared at his wife, a grin forming. “You have a copy? Here at the house?” he asked, obviously pleased at the thought.

 

‹ Prev