For the Love of the Lady

by Hutton, Callie

  His jaw dropped. “What? Do you not understand I have kidnapped you and you are my prisoner?”

  “Hah. Prisoner, indeed.” She took a few steps toward him. “I have need of the chamber pot. Please leave and allow me some privacy.”

  Crampton looked around the space. The room was on the second floor, and he doubted the girl had enough of her wits about her to climb out successfully. “Very well. But I will be right outside the door. If you take too long, privacy or no privacy, I will return.”

  She waved him off as if he were no more than a bothersome insect. He apparently had not put any fear into the girl. She acted as though she were the one in charge.

  He stepped outside and leaned against the wall, considering where to go from here. He knew, without a doubt, that Pomeroy would find him, but he had hoped to force Phoebe downstairs to eat dinner before that, making sure they were seen. He hadn’t expected her to take so long to wake up.

  It had been bad enough trying to convince the innkeeper that he needed to carry the chit into the inn and up the stairs because she had fainted. Now, he was obviously going to have a problem getting her downstairs. Young girls were supposed to be frightened easily, whimpering, crying. This one was more annoyed than anything else.

  He turned and knocked on the door. “I am coming in. You’ve had long enough.”

  When she didn’t respond, he cracked the door open and looked it. She straddled the window sill, looking down. He raced across the room and grabbed her arm. Bloody hell, he didn’t want the girl to kill herself.

  “Let go of me.” She tugged her arm and almost fell. He grabbed her around the waist and pulled her back into the room. “Are you addlepated? That fall will kill you.”

  She wrestled away from him and faced him with her hands on her hips. “No. I will probably do no more damage than a broken leg.”

  They both swung around as the door to the room crashed open. Pomeroy and Lady Crampton stood in the doorway.

  Bloody, bloody hell.

  “Phoebe, are you all right?” Selina hurried across the room and yanked her daughter away from Crampton and glared at him. “Did he touch you?”

  “Of course, I didn’t touch her. I only wanted to ruin her so she would be forced to marry me.”

  Henry strode up to the man, pulled his arm back, and plowed into his face. The sound of bone breaking had Phoebe and Selina cringing.

  Crampton landed on the floor, holding his nose, staring up at Henry. “I didn’t hurt her. Bloody hell, I didn’t even frighten her. She’s a spirited little chit.”

  Henry reached down, pulled Crampton up by his cravat, and threw a punch into his middle. “Do. Not. Speak of her that way.”

  Crampton leaned over, holding his middle. “Now she must marry me.”

  Selina drew herself up. “She will certainly not marry you, you dreadful man.”

  Henry pushed the man’s shoulder, so he landed on the bed, still holding his middle.

  “What if word gets out that she was here with me? Alone.” Crampton scrambled back when Henry raised his fist again. “No, never mind. Bad plan. No harm was done. No one saw us, and my driver would not say anything.”

  “If I hear anything about this incident I will come for you, and you better be prepared to meet me with your second at dawn.” Henry took Phoebe and Selina by the arm. “Let us depart. We can make it home tonight.”

  He hurried them down the stairs and to the side door next to the bottom step, avoiding the common room. He stopped just before they exited. “I’ll be right back.”

  He approached the innkeeper and gestured to where Selina and Phoebe stood. “This young lady was not here tonight, and there is a gentleman upstairs in need of medical assistance.” He reached into his pocket, withdrew some coins, and dropped them on the bar in front of the innkeeper.

  The man nodded, and Henry returned to them. “Our carriage awaits.”

  * * *

  The next afternoon Henry dropped the knocker on Lady Penrose’s front door after receiving a note from Selina. Once he was led into the drawing room, he found Selina, Phoebe, Prudence, Elise, Juliet, and Marigold, all seated like quite the ladies, their hands folded demurely in their laps, studying him as if he were an insect under glass. To say he was taken aback was an understatement. “What goes on here?”

  Phoebe stood and waved him to a chair. “Please take a seat.” Then she walked to Selina and extended her hand. When her mother took it, Phoebe led her to where Henry sat. “Sit.” At Selina’s raised brows, she added, “Please.”

  Why did he feel as though he—or they—were in a bit of trouble?

  Phoebe clasped her hands behind her back and paced. “Prudence and I made a visit today to Mr. Darwin.”

  “The solicitor?” Selina asked.

  Phoebe nodded. “The very one.”

  Prudence jumped up and joined her sister, wrapping her arm around her waist, as they stood in front of them. “We don’t want the money.”

  “What are you talking about?” Selina was quite pale, her words barely above a whisper.

  Prudence sat next to Selina. “It took some persuasion,” she grinned, “but Mr. Darwin told us the contents of Papa’s will. How you got nothing, Lord Crampton got the properties but no money, and Phoebe and I get all the money for our dowries, our Season and whatever is left over.”

  “That would be correct.” Selina glanced at Henry, who felt as perplexed as she looked.

  “But.” Phoebe sat next to Henry, making the four of them quite crowded on the settee as they all shifted over. Juliet, Marigold, and Elise watched from across the room, smirks on their lovely faces. Where the devil were their husbands? Most likely off enjoying cards and brandy, while he was cosseted with females. He tugged on his cravat, a bit uncomfortable with all these women staring at him.

  “The only way we get the money is if Mama doesn’t re-marry.”

  “This does not concern you, girls,” Selina said. “Your Papa wanted you to have his money.”

  Phoebe snorted. “Hardly. Papa didn’t want us to have his money, he wanted to control everyone from the grave.”

  Selina looked at Henry and shrugged.

  “Anyway, Mama. He might have given us life, but Lord Pomeroy has given us love.” Phoebe covered Henry’s hand with hers. “We feel as though you are our true papa. We’ve lived with you for four years and have grown to love you.”

  Prudence reached across Selina and took Henry’s other hand. “Yes, you are our true papa.” With all these females, two of them holding his hands, one sitting so close he wanted nothing more than to lead her upstairs to the bedroom, and three others staring at him from across the room, he felt as though all the air had left the room. He stood and tugged on his waistcoat. “If you will excuse me for a moment.”

  With all eyes on him, he strode across the room and poured himself a very large glass of brandy. He took a deep swallow, swirled the liquid around, and took another swallow. He closed his eyes as the brandy slid down his throat, warming his chest and stomach. “Are we finished?”

  “No!” Five female voices joined together with outrage. He glanced over at Selina who looked like she wanted to escape herself. Maybe they could make a run for it. Cross the room, grab her hand, and head for the front entrance. Then he remembered her condition and considered that racing around the house might upset her stomach and cause her last meal to make a reappearance in a most unpleasant manner.

  Elise stood. “Papa, please sit down. What Prudence and Phoebe want to say to you is very important.”

  He reluctantly returned to the nest of female hens and took his seat.

  “We know you love Mama, and she loves you. We also know the reason she refuses to marry you is because of that foolish will.” Phoebe took his hand once more. He put the other hand in his pocket to avoid another cross-body hand-holding session.

  “We all decided,” Prudence’s arm swept the room, encompassing his daughters as well as her sister, “that your happiness is more imp
ortant than money.”

  Juliet leaned forward. “Elise, Marigold, and I have agreed to sponsor the girls next Season so you don’t have to worry about the cost.”

  “The cost!” Henry hopped up.

  He turned in a circle to encompass all the women. “This nonsense has gone far enough. Yes, I love your mother, and she loves me. For reasons of which you are unaware, it has now come to our attention that it is quite necessary for us to marry.” He stopped when all five girls gasped and laid their hands on their chests in unison. Attempting to prevent the female hysteria about to erupt, he continued, directing his comments to Prudence and Phoebe. “I am honored by your suggestion, however, I strongly advise you not to throw away everything you have coming to you.”

  Phoebe jumped up. Or was it Prudence? When the girls were together he oftentimes had a problem telling them apart. “No. We refuse the money. We have already told Mr. Darwin we refuse the money.” She placed her hand over her heart and closed her eyes. “It is for the greater good.” Whichever girl this one was, she could make quite a career on Drury Lane had she not been the daughter of a viscount.

  Henry ran his fingers through his hair. “If you are sure you wish to relinquish the money, I will gladly pay your dowries and for your Seasons.”

  He looked over at Juliet and glared. “I can certainly afford it.”

  The stunned silence was broken by Selina’s words. “Can we send for tea? I am quite famished.”

  Chapter 15

  As they waited for the tea to arrive, all the women gathered together and not one voice rose above another, yet they all seemed to be able to follow several conversations at once. The chatter from six women was enough to drive a man to drink.

  A most pleasant idea.

  Pomeroy refilled his glass and took a sip, studying all these women who had invaded his life. He nearly choked on his next swallow when he remembered this all had started because he wanted to be free of his three daughters’ clothing bills and had come up with the “marry in order of your birth” scheme to get Elise, lovely stubborn woman that she was, thinking about marriage, which she had eschewed most of her life.

  By marrying Selina and taking on the expense of her two daughters, he was virtually back where he started from. Three women. Mountains of bills. Ah, at least he could afford it.

  He cleared his throat to gain the women’s attention to no avail. He tried again. The noise only grew louder. He really needed to get some peace and quiet and was certain he could track down his sons-in-law and other male companions at his club.

  “Ladies.”

  They ignored him.

  “Ladies, may I speak?”

  They ignored him.

  “Ladies!”

  Even his raised voiced gained him nothing. If anything, the sound grew, possibly to drown him out.

  Desperate, he placed his thumb and index finger in his mouth and whistled.

  Six heads swiveled in his direction. “Yes, dear?” Selina asked.

  “I see you are all enjoying your visit. I will be leaving you now so you won’t be bothered by my presence.”

  “I didn’t realize you were still here,” Marigold said.

  “Well, then, I wish you all a good evening.” He gave a formal bow.

  “Wait!” Elise stood. “We must arrange for the proposal.”

  “What?”

  “The proposal,” Juliet said. “You know it is a family tradition that all proposals are made in front of everyone.”

  His heart thumped and sweat broke out all over his body. In his life, Henry had faced an enemy on the battlefield, a wife in labor three times, and his man of business each month as he presented him with his daughters’ bills. Nothing, however, terrified him more than the thought of getting down on bended knee in front of the entire family and proposing to Selina.

  He cleared his throat. “Er, that won’t be necessary. You see, I have already asked Lady Crampton to marry me numerous times.”

  “But she always said no,” Phoebe added.

  “So you must ask again, properly, and in front of us all.”

  Did he see a smirk of satisfaction on Elise’s face? After all, she was the first one subjected to this “all of the family be present for the proposal” tradition.

  He really had to escape. There was no air in the room, and the women all started up again. Speaking above each other, waving their hands in the air. “Ladies!”

  Again he was ignored.

  All right, he had tried. It was time to abscond. He edged his way out of the room, quietly closing the door, and strode down the corridor. He grabbed his hat and cane from the butler and made his exit.

  The fresh air and numbing silence made him grin and do a little tap dance.

  * * *

  Selina patted her face with a clean, wet cloth. She had just brought up the tea and toast she’d forced herself to eat that morning. She had passed completely on luncheon, but now she would have to sit with Henry, his daughters, their husbands, and Phoebe and Prudence to eat dinner and have Henry do his formal proposal. If things remained the same tonight as they had been the last week, her stomach would settle down before they ate.

  Truth be known, she thought the family’s tradition of “in front of the whole family” proposal was quite sweet. She knew Henry was terrified, but she would rather enjoy being accepted into his family this way.

  “Mama, are you ready?” Phoebe tapped on her door.

  “Yes, dear.” She picked up her gloves, reticule, and shawl and crossed the room. Her daughters stood there looking absolutely beautiful. They would certainly have a successful Season.

  They both kissed her on the cheek, and the three of them descended the stairs of Lady Penrose’s townhouse and climbed into the carriage Henry had sent for them. Their hostess had retired to her sister’s estate in Bedfordshire, leaving Selina and the girls with instructions to have the house closed for the winter after she and Henry married and they all moved into his townhouse.

  Despite the proposal taking place tonight, the wedding had already been planned for the following Friday. Henry saw no reason to wait, and with her increasing, she had to agree. She shook her head at these thoughts, still stunned at being with child at her age. Not that she was so very old, but with grown daughters, it was the last thing she’d ever thought would happen to her. She smiled and laid her hand on her belly as the carriage rolled away.

  The sound of cheerful chatter greeted her and the girls as they entered Henry’s library. His daughters and their husbands had already arrived and were enjoying pre-dinner drinks and lively conversation.

  “Ah, here they are now.” Henry broke away from the group and headed toward her, kissing her on the cheek and bowing to the girls.

  They joined the others and after only a few minutes of conversation, the butler announced dinner. No formal line-up, they strolled into the dining room chatting away and settled into their places, with Henry at the head and her seated to his right. The footman began laying platters and bowls on the table and pouring wine.

  Now that her stomach felt better, she found she was quite hungry. The food was delicious, no surprise there since during the four years she’d lived in Henry’s house, she’d always admired the Cook’s offerings.

  Since Selina was not yet the official hostess of Pomeroy’s house, she left it up to Elise to announce tea in the drawing room for the ladies. When it appeared they were all looking toward her, she raised her chin. “Ladies, if you will join me in the drawing room, we will give the gentlemen time to enjoy their after-dinner drinks.

  * * *

  “Lady Crampton, have you decided on a gown for your wedding?” Juliet viewed her over the rim of her teacup.

  “I have a lovely pale blue gown that I’ve only worn a few times that I think will do nicely.”

  “Mama, you are always cautious when it comes to money,” Phoebe said. “You should have a new gown made up.”

  “Nonsense. My blue gown will do just fine.” She was quite aw
are of the fact that Henry was taking on expenses for not just her, but for Phoebe and Prudence, as well. Their Seasons and dowries would cost the poor man quite a bit. The least she could do was hold down her purchases.

  “I agree with Phoebe,” Henry said as he and the other men joined the women. “You shall have a new gown for your wedding.”

  “No, Henry. I will not. My blue gown is perfect.”

  “Papa, I believe you are stalling.” Marigold smirked in his direction.

  Goodness, Henry did look a bit peaked. Like she felt in the mornings, pale and as if his last meal was coming back up.

  “Yes, Henry, you made us all do it,” Lord Hertford said. He grinned at his wife, Juliet.

  “And now it is your turn, Pomeroy,” the Viscount St. George chimed in, as he sat alongside his wife, Elise, taking her hand in his.

  “Very well.” Henry crossed the room to her. “I just want you all to know this was unnecessary since I’ve already proposed to Lady Crampton.”

  “On your knees.” Lord Stanley grinned at his wife, Marigold. He’d been the last man to do the public proposal. Selina remembered it well, along with Juliet’s proposal. Elise’s had happened before she’d met Henry.

  She had to admit her heart took a few extra beats when Henry dropped to one knee and took her hand in his. He looked so handsome

  And terrified. She loved him so much.

  “My dear Lady Crampton. Will you make me the happiest man in all the kingdom and become my wife?”

  Selina burst into tears.

  * * *

  It was three weeks past the wedding. Phoebe and Prudence were in the music room practicing their dance steps while Selina sat on the settee in Henry’s study and worked on some sort of thing she assured him was a blanket for their babe. He’d tried several times to hide the awful thing, afraid if she actually finished it and instructed the nurse to wrap the child in it, the poor mite would probably strangle with all the loose ends. Somehow he didn’t think blankets were supposed to look like that.