Lady Tetherpound’s ball was definitely better.
Not having signed a dance card for the first few sets, Matthew made his way to the card room. Despite the early hour, several tables were already full. He spotted Lord Brotherly waving in his direction, and Matthew made his way among the groups to join the three that were in need of a fourth player.
Lord Barrick watched as the baron took his seat. “Not dancing this evening?” he wondered as he finished shuffling a deck of cards.
“Just a cotillion with Lady Geraldine at this point,” Matthew stated as he watched the viscount deal the cards.
“Ah, Lady Geraldine,” Lord Atherton commented as he took a peek at his cards. “Beautiful chit. And tits, I must say.”
“Agreed,” Lord Brotherly said, picking up his cards and grimacing before he could put a suitable poker face into place.
“Doesn’t matter. She’ll never wed, and she probably won’t take a lover until she’s past five-and-twenty,” Lord Barrick said as he examined his cards.
Angered at the comments he was hearing, Matthew stilled himself. At least he wouldn’t have competition for Geraldine’s affections from any of these gentlemen. They were all married, although Lord Atherton was famous for taking mistresses, usually more than one at a time. He must be awfully flush, Matthew thought as he arranged his cards. How else could the man afford the rents on all the townhouses as well as pin money for multiple mistresses?
As he studied his cards, Matthew realized he had a full house, which was usually enough to win a hand with only four players. He declined the offer of a different card.
“You all seem to forget her brother will not allow it,” Lord Brotherly stated, exchanging two of his cards for new ones. No one could miss his disappointment over his new cards.
“And what kind of sway will he hold over Jerry?” Atherton wondered, taking three cards.
Matthew winced at the earl’s use of Lady Geraldine’s childhood nickname. The girl was a woman now; self-assured, beautiful, and if she wasn’t looking to get married right away, perhaps he could entice her to do so. He was about to wonder if he could afford the chit and then remembered her brother’s comment about her dowry. Marry her within the month and I’ll double the dowry. Well, if she did accept his offer, Afterly would have to double her dowry. Rumor had it, Gerldine had developed a taste for fine furnishings, finer clothing and the finest jewelry.
Rumors, Matthew thought. Hopefully.
“We should begin a wager, gentlemen,” Brotherly suggested as he regarded his cards. “I’ll open.” He tossed some coins so they landed in the middle of the table.
“What kind of wager?” Barrick wondered. “I’ll fold,” he added as the man tossed his cards onto the table.
“I wager Lady Geraldine never marries because her brother is never in town to see to a suitable match,” Brotherly responded, leaning back in his chair and crossing his arms.
Atherton laughed, tossing some coins into the middle. “You do realize that no one will be able to collect on your bet for the rest of our lives. The chit might get married once Afterly meets his Maker,” he explained with a shrug.
“To whom? She’ll be an old crone,” Barrick complained.
Matthew thought to suggest himself as a groom for the beautiful daughter of an earl, but he held his tongue on that point and instead said, “The earl is, in fact, back in town. I spoke with him at Black’s just last night,” he added as he straightened in his chair. He tossed his coins into the center of the table as the others around the table took note of his comment. “I call,” Matthew said, hoping his full house would hold.
“Back for how long, though?” Brotherly asked as he tossed in his cards, apparently no longer interested in playing.
“A few months,” Matthew offered with a shrug as he watched Atherton add some coins to the pile. “And then he’ll be off to Italy.” The earl spread out his cards. Two pairs and an ace. Matthew followed suit with his full house and then pulled the coins toward him. If he stopped playing right now, he would have enough money to see him through to the end of the month. “Thank you, gentleman.” He pretended to listen to the music. “I must take my leave of you. I’ve promised someone the next dance.”
Ignoring the jibes and cries of cheating from the gentlemen, Matthew made his way back to the ballroom.
He needed to think.
Was it such a good idea to think of marriage to Afterly’s sister? Her reputation was obviously in tatters – a reputation that could only be repaired if she didn’t continue to carry on as the ton claimed she’d been doing. Then the rumors surrounding her would eventually be forgotten in favor of some other poor chit’s perceived misbehavior.
But if she were married, she would be under the protection of a husband. Even with her brother thousands of miles away, the rumors would cease much sooner if she were married.
Matthew had to believe he had that in his favor.
Geraldine was the sister of an earl, though. Would Geraldine Porterhouse even consider a lowly baron for a husband?
Independent. Beautiful. Self-confident. Goodness, she had practically asked him to dance with her hint of having one dance left on her card! And he had gladly signed on the one remaining line.
A cotillion, he remembered. Well, it would be starting soon. He made his way into the ballroom in search of Lady Geraldine.
Chapter 36
A Baron’s Button
Jeffrey glanced sideways, thinking Evangeline had her attention on something other than the pages they were supposed to be reading.
“Are you ... are you finished?” he whispered, wondering why she hadn’t moved to turn the page when more than the usual amount of time had passed since the last turn.
“Hmm,” she murmured, apparently lost in thought.
Following her apparent line of sight, Jeffrey realized Evangeline was staring at the cuff of his sleeve. At the empty buttonhole where there should have been a cuff link. Or a button.
He sighed.
The button was in his pocket; it had come loose almost as soon as he’d stepped onto the phaeton to make his way to Rosemount House, and rather than take the chance that it would be lost, he simply jerked it off his cuff and stuffed it into a waistcoat pocket.
Embarrassed, he gently raised his shoulder so his arm slid farther into his coat sleeve. The offending cuff nearly disappeared, but not before Evangeline suddenly straightened and returned her attention to the book.
“I have the button,” Jeffrey claimed, deciding she was probably wondering as to the fate of the carved wooden fastener.
Evangeline turned to stare at his wrist again. “Does your valet know?” she wondered, a hint of concern in her voice. If the poor servant didn’t know his master had the button, he was probably at this moment searching for a replacement in one of the men’s shops in New Bond Street.
Jeffrey frowned. “Well, not yet,” he answered, moving his other hand to pull his coat sleeve down so the cuff was completed hidden. Since he had named one of the characters in the book – Viscount Barrick – after Timmons, Jeffrey was careful not to mention his valet by name.
Evangeline was suddenly off the couch, the book pushed off to one side. Not having expected her to leave his company so suddenly, Jeffrey was slow to stand up. He watched as Evangeline made her way to a basket near the fireplace. She bent down and reached into it, pulling out what he realized had to be a needle and a length of white thread.
“What do you think you’re doing?” he wondered as he watched her thread the needle as if she did it every day.
She probably does, he realized suddenly, remembering the exquisite stitcheries that graced the vestibule and hall walls.
Evangeline held out a hand. “The button, please,” she said with an air of authority that had Jeffrey rooting around for the woode
n circle in his waistcoat pocket. He passed it to her, wondering what she had in mind. “Remove your coat, please,” she said as she threaded the needle through the loop of the button.
Jeffrey remained where he stood, trying to decide if he was going to comply with her request. He dared a glance toward the library doors, wondering if the butler still guarded them. Not seeing the stout man, he considered what he wore beneath his topcoat. His shirt was clean enough – this was the first day he had worn it since his valet laundered it. His waistcoat was in good repair – it had all its buttons, at least. And his cravat was neatly folded. He dared a glance down into the folds, hoping none of them held any remnants of his breakfast. When he was sure it was clean, he undid the topcoat’s buttons and took it off, folding it once before placing it over the top of a nearby chair.
Evangeline was already in front of him, her needle and thread ready to reattach the button to its cuff. “Wouldn’t it be easier if we were ... sitting down?” he asked as she took the first stitch.
She shook her head, already taking the next stitch. Jeffrey watched as her deft fingers maneuvered the needle under the fabric, though the button’s loop, and back under the fabric. She repeated the steps as he watched with rapt attention. Having never seen the art of sewing performed so up close, Jeffrey found himself mesmerized. He studied her long fingers, marveled at their perfectly manicured nails, at their shape and the tiny wrinkles at each knuckle, and before he could move his eyes to her delicate wrists, she was tying off the thread.
“One more moment,” she said before returning to the basket by the fireplace. She returned with a tiny pair of scissors and clipped off the remaining thread. “All done,” she said as she made her way back to the basket.
Jeffrey watched her lower herself to put away the needle and thread. Sewing on his button had taken her but a few minutes, where it probably would have taken his valet far longer. As he studied her handiwork up close, he thought she had done a far better job than Timmons would have. He hurried to join her at the fireplace, reaching down to take a hand and help her to stand.
“Thank you,” he whispered. Bringing her hand to his lips, he kissed the back of it, leaving his lips on her knuckles far longer than was appropriate.
Evangeline watched as Jeffrey kissed her hand, her breath held until he finally released her. “You’re welcome,” she whispered. At the moment, if the baron had dared a kiss, she would have obliged him, for she was quite sure she was about to kiss him. Again.
“Pardon, my lady, but the Ladies Samantha and Julia are here for luncheon,” Jones’ deep voice said from the library’s threshold.
Jeffrey nearly gave a start at the interruption, sure he was about to kiss Evangeline. Again. “You have guests,” he said before he swallowed. “I should take my leave then,” he said as he bowed and moved to put on his topcoat.
Evangeline regarded the butler, none too pleased at the inconvenient timing. Or, perhaps ... she glanced over at the baron, who was buttoning his topcoat. If he left now, he would have to pass her friends on his way to the front door. “Escort them to the conservatory, please. We’ll be having our luncheon in there,” she said, suppressing the naughty grin she was about to display. She was suddenly disappointed Lord Sommers couldn’t stay for luncheon. What would Samantha and Julia think at that impropriety? She could hear their giggles even before she completed the thought.
“Tomorrow morning, then?” she said to Jeffrey, rather liking the idea of reading every morning for an hour or so with him.
“Eleven o’clock?” he offered. “Here?”
Evangeline nodded. “That will be grand.”
Jeffrey nodded and gave her a bow before taking his leave of the library, realizing too late that he would have to pass her luncheon guests as they were being escorted to the conservatory.
Had Evangeline deliberately planned his departure to coincide with the arrival of the two young ladies?
Jeffrey didn’t have time to consider the question, for Lady Samantha and Lady Julia were suddenly directly in front of him. He bowed, said his greetings and kissed the backs of their hands just as if he’d been the master of the house. And before he made it to the Rosemount House vestibule, he had to smile as he heard them burst into a fit of giggles.
Chapter 37
A Luncheon with the Ladies
Evangeline entered the conservatory a moment after Jones had departed, wanting her guests to be seated before she made her entrance. “Good afternoon, ladies,” she said brightly as she moved to take a seat at one of the white metal chairs that surrounded a matching garden table. Despite the wet, chilly air outside, the conservatory was warm and tropical, its greenery and bright flowers a welcome treat for those who didn’t have a conservatory in their Park Lane homes.
“You’ve obviously been having one,” Samantha said with an arched eyebrow. “And don’t try to tell me your brother has returned, because I know he has not,” she warned, thinking Evangeline would claim the baron was only at Rosemount House to see her brother.
Despite having been prepared for their teasing, Evangeline blushed. “Lord Sommers and I have just been reading the book, is all,” she said with a shrug.
“Sitting side-by-side?” Julia countered, waggling both of her eyebrows. “Like you did in the square?” She had to suppress a cry of surprise when one of her shins sustained a kick to it. She turned to find Samantha’s eyes wide and not very friendly. “In Finsbury Square, was it not?” she amended, suddenly understanding Samantha’s warning. She had to be careful or Evangeline might guess that she and Samantha had been watching the two read whilst in Grosvenor Square.
“We’re quite proper about it,” Evangeline replied, reaching for her glass of white wine. A maid delivered plates of cut fruits and a tray of sliced cheese, giving her a reprieve from her guests’ teasing for a moment. When she saw Julia’s face fall, as if she were disappointed in her claim, Evangeline leaned forward. “Have I said something wrong?” she wondered, glancing back and forth to study her friends’ faces.
“We were hoping you were being naughty,” Samantha said once the maid had left the room.
“But not being ruined,” Julia added quickly, her head shaking from side to side.
Evangeline blinked, her mouth dropping open at their comments. “How could I be naughty without being ruined?” she asked, her brows furrowing.
Samantha shrugged, helping herself to a piece of the fruit. “Kiss without being caught,” she answered before popping the berry into her mouth.
“Do anything without being caught,” Julia countered, following Samantha’s lead with the fruit. Her eyes suddenly widened. “Unless you want to be caught!” She gasped after swallowing.
Before Julia could accuse Evangeline of anything untoward, Evangeline raised a hand and held it palm side out. “And who says I want to be naughty with the baron?” she asked. “Or caught?” she added with a mock look of horror on her face.
Samantha had moved on to the cheese plate and regarded a slice before she pulled it apart between her fingers. “Are you denying that you find Jeffrey Althorpe utterly handsome and worthy of your affection?”
“Sam!” Evangeline said, having to keep her voice down since their soups hadn’t yet been brought out. A footman might enter at any moment and share their gossip with everyone else whose rooms were on the third floor. “Of course, I find him ... handsome,” she agreed, not quite sure how much to admit. “I’m not yet sure about the affection, however,” she admitted with a shake of her head. Lust, perhaps, she had to admit to herself.
“Oh,” Julia replied, her disappointment apparent when her ‘oh’ sounded as if all the air had gone out of her.
“Attraction, then,” Samantha stated before helping herself to another slice of cheese.
Evangeline glanced at her friends one after the other and back again, not quite sure
how much to admit. “Oh, of course, he’s attractive.”
“But are you attracted to him?” Samantha pressed.
Swallowing hard, and not because she’d eaten anything, Evangeline finally shrugged and said, “Yes, I suppose.”
Samantha and Julia squealed at the same time, the exact same time the footman arrived with the soup, which he nearly spilled upon hearing the high-pitched squealing.
Suppressing the urge to roll her eyes, Evangeline regarded her friends with a smile. “You two are incorrigible,” she remarked as the footman set the soups before each young lady. She turned her attention to the footman. “Thank you, Simmons,” she said. “We’ll be ready for dessert whenever Cook has it ready,” she added with a teasing grin. Which just made Samantha and Julia giggle again.
Raising a spoonful of soup to her lips, Evangeline wondered if the three of them would continue such luncheons once they were all married. The thought had her pausing, her spoon held in mid-air, as she realized she had never before thought of the three of them married.
If only it could be so, she thought with a sigh. If only.
Chapter 38
A Ride to Nowhere
“What are you thinking?” Julia wondered as she approached the Harrington town coach, a footman holding the door for her whilst she held up her skirts to take the steps.
The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) Page 20