by Amelia Grey
“That wasn’t even the worst of it,” his father continued after taking a drink from his cup.
“What else?” Lyon asked, holding his anger at bay and his feelings in check. His relationship with Adeline wasn’t anyone’s business, and he didn’t intend to discuss what happened between them with anyone.
“Pritchard started asking if anyone had seen you at White’s or any of the other clubs last night and no one had. You can imagine how that kindling added to the flame of intrigue about widowed Lady Wake without me even telling you.”
Another oath whispered under Lyon’s breath.
He looked his father straight in the eyes. “That doesn’t mean I was with her.”
“Of course it does,” he argued effectively, lifting the lids off the serving dishes and looking inside. “Because everyone wants to believe you were with her so they can gossip about it.”
Lyon plunked his coffee onto the buffet, causing the cup to rattle in the saucer. This was madness. “I will vehemently deny being with her last night. I won’t have her reputation ruined over a half-dozen carriages piled up at the front of her door.”
“Very gentlemanly of you,” Marksworth said, putting the cover back on the last bowl. “But no one would believe you. I took care of it for you and now you don’t have to say anything about it to anyone and Lady Wake will remain unblemished.”
Lyon’s eyes narrowed. “What did you do?”
“I told them you came over to my house to find out why I missed the card game and stayed to have a late supper with me.” Marksworth stopped, took a sip of his coffee, and then smiled. “The whole lot of them believed it.”
“Because they aren’t fools,” Lyon finished for his father.
“Exactly. They don’t want her reputation ruined. They want it pure as the first blossom of spring so they can pursue her themselves.”
Lyon huffed a short laugh. His father and his aunt had managed to cover for him and Lady Wake before he’d even had a chance to defend Adeline himself.
“Why did you miss the card game?”
“Do you really want me to tell you?”
“No,” he said. “I can guess.”
“Good. You’d be right that I was spending the afternoon with someone else. However, I was rather remarkable in delivery of the made-up dinner between us,” his father said. “Though I really didn’t have to put too much outrage into my denial of your whereabouts. They had already made up their minds to court the lovely widow who captured everyone’s attention, scandal or not. Knowing they didn’t have to compete against you was all they really wanted to know. So what I said settles any mark against her reputation for now, but I fear they may talk about how improper, suggestive, and stimulating she looked in her wet clothing for years to come.”
Lyon wasn’t likely to forget the image anytime soon, either.
“At least now you know where you stand.”
Yes. Lyon knew where he stood with the men. The problem was he didn’t know where Adeline stood.
“Have you had a bite yet?” Marksworth asked.
“No.”
He looked at the place where Cordelia had been sitting, but didn’t ask any questions about who might have left the half-eaten scone. Instead, he grabbed a plate in one hand and lifted the cover off a bowl of steaming scrambled eggs with the other. “Good,” he said. “Me either. I’ll eat with you. All this talk of gossip has me starving.” But before he picked up the spoon and dipped into the fluffy yellow mound, he turned back to Lyon. “There’s one thing I forgot to tell you.”
Lyon didn’t know what that possibly could be. Between his gaming club, Mrs. Feversham, and Aunt Cordelia, nothing seemed to have been missed.
Still, he asked, “What?”
“The wager at White’s as to which of us will be the first to have a son. The bets are more than one hundred to one in my favor.”
That didn’t surprise Lyon or please him.
“You might want to keep that in mind the next time you want to visit Lady Wake. At your age, if you’re going to finally have a son, he should be a legitimate one.”
“Marksworth, you go too far,” Lyon said in a warning tone.
“It’s not the first time and I daresay it won’t be the last. I’m your father and have the right to say what I damn well please to you. You don’t have to like it or agree with it. She’s young, a countess, and from what I heard today, she’s a raving beauty and certainly looks shapely enough to bear you a healthy son. If she caught your fancy, as I have reason to believe by the murderous expression you’re giving me, you’re going to have a lot of competition for her hand. You best ask for her before someone else steps in front of you.”
Lyon’s jaw tightened as he struggled not to respond. The last thing he wanted was what happened between him and Adeline playing out in the gossip halls and gaming clubs, or in his father’s mind. A shudder went through Lyon. He’d already considered that marriage would put a quick stop to any gossip about her. His chest constricted.
Lady Wake, his bride?
His admiration for her, his desire for her, that continuous leap in his chest at just the thought of her was immense. Were his feelings for her what he’d always been looking for in the lady he wanted to be his wife?
Love.
Marksworth strode over to the window nearest him and looked out. “What’s that noise I keep hearing?”
“It’s the girls from the school Lady Wake and her friends opened behind her house,” he answered, much calmer than when his father first arrived. “They sing for about an hour around this time every morning.”
Since they stopped playing outside because of him. No wonder they thought him a monster.
“Sing for an hour? Every day? Hmm.” His father walked back over to the buffet, picked up a spoon, and dug into the eggs.
Lyon was sure of one thing. He wanted Adeline Wake for his own. Not just for a night or as an occasional lover as the members of his card group had bantered about. That thought made his stomach twist.
Did that mean he’d finally fallen in love?
If he had, it was looking as if he might have to go through half the men in London and a girls’ school to prove that to her, but he would. Thankfully his father had just given him an idea as to how to start knocking down all the obstacles between him and the countess, one at a time.
He hoped his father ate quickly. Lyon had a lot to think about.
Chapter 14
It was ridiculous, but Adeline had been smiling all day. And it wasn’t because Mrs. Le Roe had delivered the first four of Adeline’s new gowns for the Season bright and early that morning or simply because it was a beautiful spring day. No, she’d awakened with no doubts, no concerns, and no regrets about the few passionate minutes she and Lyon had shared last night. She had finally felt wanted for who she was. Desired. Not used for a purpose. Their time together was indescribable and she wasn’t going to try to understand why or how it all came about. The only thing she wanted was to enjoy how she was feeling today.
Wonderful. Joyous. Free.
And, in some ways it might be selfish, but she felt deserving of everything she’d experienced with the earl.
She hadn’t been sure what exactly she’d expected or wanted when she’d left her gloves behind at his house. But Lyon had left her no doubt that he’d known exactly what to do and how to accomplish it. She laughed lightly. As far as she was concerned, their coming together couldn’t have been any more perfect for her.
Many times throughout the day her happy mind had betrayed her and turned to thinking about the possibility of a next time with Lyon. She would immediately shut down the thoughts. Those were for another day. She didn’t want to think about the answers. For now, she only wanted to enjoy reliving the memories of every embrace, kiss, and stroke of his hand. Tomorrow would be soon enough to worry about the future and what it would hold for her.
Adeline stood beside her bed, one arm folded across her chest and tapping a finger on her chin as s
he looked down at the gowns draped across the bedcoverings. Amber, midnight blue, a faded mulberry, and a deep forest green. The dark colors were sedate enough to satisfy the harshest critiques for what was acceptable for her status in Society now. The sheer overdresses had enough trim, beading, and satin bows and ribbons to be formal enough for a candlelight ball.
Married ladies could be flamboyant, extravagant, and push the boundaries of fashion beyond the pale as far as color, fashion, and showing off their bosoms. Young unmarried misses and widows were not given the same freedoms.
They had rules to follow.
Adeline had topped each gown with three pairs of gloves, several decorated combs, and more than a few pieces of jewelry to match each one. Now all she had to do was make the decision as to which gown to wear first and what adornments she would settle on for each ball. She should send notes to Julia and Brina to find out if either of them had decided on a color. But what would it matter if they were all in the same color? In fact, it might be entertaining if they all arrived in the same shade of widow weeds. The talk that would start made Adeline smile, too. It had always been their plan to be companions for one another and attend the first ball together. They’d decided that more than a year ago when they were meeting once a week and making plans for the school.
Adeline sighed softly and looked at the gowns. After last night, she really didn’t care which she wore. In truth, all the dresses looked alike. Demure because her station in life required it. But what she had on couldn’t change what she felt inside. Lyon had shown her what she’d always thought. She was filled with uninhibited fire and passion, and she knew how to share it and accept the same from him.
It had always been a battle of wills between them until they came together, each wanting the same thing. Each receiving. They came together as equals with the same goal in mind. He had fulfilled her long desire and brought lovemaking to life for her. He’d left her no doubts she’d satisfied him as well. There was a time early in her married life when she’d longed for Wake to look at her, touch her as Lyon had last night. That desire perished when time after time he treated his union with her as no more than doing a business deal.
Lyon showed her the difference and gave her hope it might happen again. That gave her much to smile about.
Adeline kept all her clothing simple. The fewer things one had to worry about, the fewer servants one needed. The still-fashionable high-waist shift was easy to slip on without help. Simple was good for Adeline. When her required period of mourning was over, she’d left her brother-in-law’s house and moved into a small, leased house in Mayfair where she’d lived until buying Mr. Bottles’ property. Adeline had hired Mrs. Lawton and quickly discovered the housekeeper was so efficient she needed no other fulltime staff. Two women came early in the mornings to help Mrs. Lawton with laundry, building the fires, and other such duties that required more help, but they were usually gone before midday.
Within a few tries and failures, Adeline had learned how to skillfully pull up her own hair, shape it into an acceptable chignon at her nape or sometimes the top of her head, and secure it with combs and pins. She found she needed no help deciding what dress to don for the day or someone to lay it out for her. Managing the clasps on necklaces and earrings was really quite easy, too. Most of her stays and bodices were made to fasten in the front or to crisscross and tie in an easy string bow at the center of her back. And Mrs. Lawton was always available for clothing that took more effort.
A light knock on the doorframe sounded. Adeline turned and said, “Ah, Mrs. Lawton. How did you know I was just about to call for you? I’m thinking I should wear the amber-colored gown for the first ball. What do you think?”
The woman walked over and glanced down. “That will go very nicely with your hair, but—”
Adeline frowned. “But what?”
“You know buttercream is my favorite color, my lady. Whether it’s a man’s shirt and neckcloth, an apron, or a lady’s fancy gown.”
Smiling, Adeline said, “Yes, I do remember. And I love the crisp clean look of it, too. But it’s not suitable for me. What do you think about the blue? It’s really dark, isn’t it?”
“It looks black to me, my lady, but I suspect I best leave the decision to you, and tell you that Mrs. Tallon sent Miss Peat over with a message for you. Asking if it might be possible for you to come over to the school for a minute or two.”
“Now?”
Mrs. Lawton nodded. “She mentioned that the girls wanted to give you a proper thank-you.”
“I don’t mind going to the school, but heavens, they should know a personal thank-you isn’t necessary. Besides, they’ve already been here almost a month. If anything, I should thank them and their families again for having made the sacrifice to come here.”
Doing this for the girls was really the only thing she’d ever done in life that was of any consequence and she was grateful they’d given her the chance to do something so worthy. It made her feel useful. Happy. She needed no thanks.
“They’re learning to sew, aren’t they?” Mrs. Lawton asked. “Maybe they made a handkerchief for you. Or now that they are learning to write, they could have written something for you. Best you go there rather than all of them come over here.”
The worried look on Mrs. Lawton’s face made Adeline chuckle. “You’re right, I’ll go.”
She looked back at the gowns. The amber it would be. She removed the white-and-beige gloves, the long strand of pearls, and the large teardrop amethyst that hung on a gold chain. She would go with the dark brown gloves, the choker of amber beads and matching dangling earrings, and combs for her hair.
“Prepare these for the first ball. I’ll choose the things for the other dresses when I return, but at least I’m set for one evening. Thank you for helping me make up my mind, Mrs. Lawton.”
The sky was blue and the day not so cold so Adeline didn’t bother with bonnet, cape, or gloves. Once she was down her back steps, it was hardly more than fifty or sixty steps to the front door of the school. A spirited walk would do her good. Her gray woolen dress should be sufficient enough for a quick, though completely unnecessary, thank-you from the girls. However, it would be lovely to see them close up again, and to look at their shining eyes and rosy cheeks.
The short brisk walk added to the invigorating disposition Adeline had felt all day. It was simply amazing what a few minutes of passion could do for one’s temperament. Nothing seemed as bleak and dour as it once had. And she owed it all to Lyon. The usually ornery earl had turned into a blessing in disguise. Now she was looking forward to the first ball of the Season when before she’d dreaded it.
Within a minute or two, Adeline opened the door of the school and walked inside. An eruption of noise exploded, startling her. In the far corner Miss Hinson was seated at a grand-looking rosewood pianoforte, playing a lively tune. The girls were gathered nearby smiling from ear to ear and clapping and squealing. Mrs. Tallon and Miss Peat stood behind Miss Hinson with even bigger smiles. The usually serious teachers were clapping, too!
Everyone curtsied and yelled out, “Thank you, Lady Wake!” The students then started jumping and cheering loudly as only kids could do.
All Adeline could think was who in the world had something as large as the pianoforte delivered to the wrong address? She hadn’t bought that glorious-sounding, beautifully carved instrument for them and neither had Julia or Brina. Whoever had was going to come looking for it and take it back! What was she going to do? The girls were so excited and happy.
“I can play it, too,” Mrs. Tallon was saying when the girls quieted down and Miss Hinson switched to a softer, more subdued score. “Though not as well as Miss Hinson.”
“I’ve never heard one before,” Fanny said, stepping closer to the pianoforte and running her hand along the side of the wood. “How does it make that beautiful sound?”
“You never mind about that,” Mrs. Tallon said, reaching over and gently taking hold of the little girl’s wris
t with her thumb and forefinger and removing her hand. “And don’t you be touching it, either. Not any of you,” she added looking at the other girls.
Adeline could understand Fanny’s natural curiosity about the pianoforte. When played correctly it could be as soothing as warm water washing over your shoulders and back. It was sobering and heartbreaking to realize that most of the girls had probably never heard music other than the voices of their mothers or fathers humming or singing.
But her heart ached. What was she going to do? She wouldn’t let the pianoforte be taken away now that the girls had been exposed to it.
“Not that either of us will try to teach any of the girls how to play, of course,” Mrs. Tallon continued with her conversation. “They are here to learn more beneficial things, but it will be such a wonderful luxury for all of us when we have our singing lessons in the mornings and in the evenings while everyone is getting settled for bed. We are grateful for such a generous gift to the school, Lady Wake.”
Adeline swallowed hard. She would have gladly already purchased one if it had once crossed her mind the girls might enjoy hearing melodic music. She had been so focused on what they needed to learn, the skills they needed to find work that she hadn’t given enough thought to what they needed to enjoy in the present. Mrs. Tallon was right. Playing an instrument wouldn’t earn them a wage like sewing a fine stitch, cutting a straight pattern, or making fancy bows from silk and satin, but she could see it was going to add great enjoyment to their lives at the boarding school.
But Adeline had work to do.
There couldn’t be many businesses in London that sold pianofortes. She’d have to find out which ones did and discover who had made this mistake. It was doubtful, but she would be hopeful the school could keep this one and the company have another just like it delivered to the rightful owner. If not, she’d have to come up with a good reason why the pianoforte was switched out for a different one. But she couldn’t stand the thought of the girls watching that pianoforte being carried from the school.