Beastly Lords Collection Books 1 - 3: A Regency Historical Romance Collection

Home > Romance > Beastly Lords Collection Books 1 - 3: A Regency Historical Romance Collection > Page 33
Beastly Lords Collection Books 1 - 3: A Regency Historical Romance Collection Page 33

by Sydney Jane Baily


  When an unexpected invitation arrived from Viscount Alder to stroll in Hyde Park and along the Serpentine, Jenny found herself agreeing to it almost instantly. Anything to take her mind off the absence of her wayward husband.

  When the viscount’s carriage pulled up, for a moment, she thought it might be Simon and hurried to the window to peer out. Then she swore aloud at her own behavior. How many times had she drawn back the curtains only to have her hopes dashed?

  Dressed in an emerald green day dress with matching long coat, its bulk hiding any changes to her body, she stepped out into the watery sunshine feeling comfortably warm. And truth be told, Jenny felt a race of excited anticipation at going out.

  Meeting her at the front door, Lord Michael Alder escorted her down the steps to his carriage and helped her inside before getting in and sitting opposite.

  For a moment, they rode the short distance in silence.

  “A little odd,” he confessed.

  She raised her eyebrows at his remark, though she had been thinking precisely the same thing. A married woman alone with a man was permitted, but still, tongues would wag. Though with Simon away and her life on hold, she found she didn’t care much about gossipers.

  “What I mean to say,” the viscount added, “is we could never have done this before, when I was courting you.”

  “True. Sometimes, it amazes me that anyone ever forms an attachment given the restrictions placed on people getting to know one another. Extended discourse is difficult, never mind time alone.”

  “Today, we can extend our discourse as long as we like,” Alder said before smiling. “You have a good mind, as I recall.”

  Before long, they were ambling along the Serpentine, admiring the shimmering waters.

  “Aside from Kew Gardens, I think this is one of my favorite spots in Town,” Jenny said, lifting her face to the crisp air, not caring that it chilled her cheeks. She was outside for the first time in ages and felt alive.

  Effortlessly as they walked, they discussed current events, such as the upcoming nomination of a new Archbishop of Canterbury and the opening of the Caledonian Railway that would make traveling to Scotland vastly easier. They stopped to watch young boys trying to crack a section of ice with big sticks.

  “Take care, lads,” Alder said. “Not a step onto that river or I’ll box your ears.”

  Jenny smiled, appreciating his concern for the young strangers. No doubt, he would make an excellent father one day.

  Like a sharp blade, a pang of sadness pierced her at the thought of fatherhood and of Simon not being with her. How much more delightful would this moment be if she were walking with him?

  “Are you all right?” the viscount asked, noticing her change of expression. “You’ve gone quiet, never a good thing in a female.”

  “I’m fine.” What could she say? That she wished her husband was on her arm instead of him?

  “Perhaps something hot to drink? The Garden House is open, is it not?”

  Soon, she found herself seated at the small café with a mug of hot chocolate in front of her, while her companion had coffee.

  “I want to thank you,” he began, “for agreeing to meet with me.”

  “Why wouldn’t I?” Jenny asked. She should be thanking him for rescuing her from her confinement and her long vigil for Simon. She could hardly tell him that either.

  “We parted in a rather bad way,” Alder said. “You have every right to hate me and certainly to not want to see me.”

  “Actually, my lord, we parted on the best of terms. The last time we were together before you called off our engagement, we had attended the Huntington’s dinner and ball. And for the first time, we danced every dance together. The food was delicious and the music divine. It was a lovely evening. So really, we parted on good terms.”

  If anything, he looked more abashed.

  “You are right in nearly every account, which is what makes what happened worse, I believe. We were at the point where it seemed our association was going smoothly. I think we would have come to care deeply for each other. At least, I for you.”

  She glanced around to make sure no one was eavesdropping, for this conversation was going in a direction she feared out of the bounds of propriety.

  “Why discuss it now?”

  “Because you are wrong on the most important detail. For it was not I who broke off our engagement. My father did it with unexpected alacrity, and quite craftily, too. He sent me to Kent to check on a minor property issue while sending word to you there would be no forthcoming proposal of marriage. By the time I returned, you had left for Sheffield.”

  “I see.” Jenny considered his words. That did take the sting out of her humiliation somewhat. Upon second thought, however, the ramifications of how Alder might be feeling even now made their outing less platonic than she liked.

  Hoping he was not pining for her, Jenny sipped her chocolate. He had seemed coolly taken with her when they were courting. Not indifferent, but neither passionate the way she and Simon were. Or had been before he’d banished her to London.

  She must remind the viscount they both had moved on.

  “I heard you formed a relationship with someone else by the end of the Season.”

  He nodded. “Lady Delia Hampstead.” Pausing, he tasted his coffee. “She was sweet and had a fair face.” Then his gaze locked on hers. “But she wasn’t you.”

  Jenny let her cup clatter onto its saucer. Oh, dear. He did harbor feelings for her.

  “It’s worse than you think,” Alder continued. “My parents actually told me you were the one who had broken off our association though apparently everyone else believes it was me. Quite mortifying really. I thought you had simply up and moved away and thus I let my mother steer me toward Lady Delia. When I learned the truth, I saw no reason to continue the farce of having any interest in that lady, certainly not to please my parents.”

  “I am very sorry,” Jenny said and meant it. She could even admit to contrition over briefly thinking ill of him. “What point is there, however, in going over all this now? You know I am married.”

  “Yes, Lady Lindsey, I know.” Alder gave her a long look. “I suppose I wanted you to know I had not cared a fig about your financial situation, and that the dishonorable action was not mine. After what my parents did, I also needed to know if you are happy. I’ve watched you from a distance. You are here for the Season and are quite obviously alone. A new bride alone in London does not bode well. Married, yes, but happy?”

  A myriad of feelings coursed through her. Whatever she said could be construed as disrespectful to Simon and a betrayal of the intimacy between husband and wife. Yet, Lord Alder had been forthcoming, and his aura of sadness touched her heart.

  Certainly, she could tell him something. That she had got over him quickly was probably not the right thing, nor was disclosing her present predicament.

  “Let us walk again,” Jenny offered, for there were, indeed, others who might be eavesdropping.

  Back in the brisk air, strolling beside him instead of looking directly at him, she could more easily confess she wished her husband were in London.

  “What prevents him?”

  “I’m not sure.” Realizing how vague that sounded, Jenny added, “I believe he will be here any day.”

  To her surprise, he stopped and, as he had hold of her arm, she halted beside him. There, on the Serpentine path, Alder turned toward her and looked down into her eyes with an expression she could not quite fathom.

  In the back of her mind, she was aware this was not a good situation to be seen in if recognized. Furthermore, she could see from the corner of her eyes there were other people on the path.

  Yet the viscount still held her gaze. In fact, his dropped briefly to her mouth, causing her to gasp slightly.

  Recalling their surroundings, Alder stiffened, his glance securely upon her eyes once again.

  “I accept you are no longer free, though I confess I wish it were otherwise.�
� He gave a small grunt of pained laughter, and she reached up, putting her hand on his shoulder. Poor man.

  “You are the woman I intended to spend my life with. And despite your marital status, I cannot help but care for you.”

  Jenny shook her head, yet he covered her hand with his, the warmth of him seeping through her gloves.

  “Oh, Michael,” she began, her voice sounding husky with emotion, “I am sorry.” She wished he felt nothing for her.

  “I would never dishonor you by doing or saying anything more. I simply wish you to know I am here for you, in whatever capacity you may need. If you are ever lonely and wish to walk, as we did today, I am at your service.”

  “She doesn’t need your service,” came an achingly familiar voice cutting through the cold air like an icy blade.

  Jenny gasped again as she turned to face her husband. Shocked at seeing him there, she could only stare in disbelief.

  She found her voice at last, but it came out in an incredulous whisper. “Simon.”

  Standing with arms crossed, his legs slightly apart, apparently, he had witnessed a few moments of her discourse with Alder. His expression was grim, and she realized all at once, he was angry with her for being with the viscount.

  As if he had the right!

  A slight pressure on her fingers had her glancing back to Michael. He frowned down at her, perhaps with worry for her safety. Certainly, Simon looked formidable, but she didn’t fear him in the least.

  Tugging her hands free, and realizing she should have done that immediately, Jenny turned to face her husband. She fervently wished the viscount wasn’t standing quite so close, his shoulder pressing against her own. No doubt they looked guilty without even a hairsbreadth between them.

  Uncrossing his arms, Simon held out his hand to her.

  She hesitated, causing his eyes to flash in fury. In fact, her husband had never looked more daunting. His dark, windswept hair, as if he’d rushed through the park, brushed the upturned collar of his black travelling coat that swirled around his feet at the slightest breeze. Or was that because he was trembling with rage?

  However, it took her only a moment to gain the courage necessary to answer his silent invitation and to disregard the uninviting scowl on his handsome face.

  Reaching out, she let him take her hand. As soon as he gently yet strongly drew her close, she felt safe. He was back, he had come to claim her, and her heart would be whole once more.

  “Here now, Lindsey, the lady and I were merely—”

  “The lady is my wife, and I will thank you to remember that.” Simon spoke without lifting his gaze from hers.

  Without bidding Alder good day, Simon turned and started toward his waiting carriage, practically dragging Jenny along due to the length of his stride. She dared not glance back at the viscount, lest it further madden her husband.

  Yes, Simon was positively rigid, and yes, she felt intimidated by his manner. However, he had returned and everything would be set to rights. Of that, she felt as certain as she knew one and one made two.

  Once seated in the carriage for the short ride back to their townhouse, he remained stoically silent, watching her. She supposed a declaration of love after coming across her practically in the arms of another man was too much to hope for. Yet, her joy felt boundless.

  Simon’s very presence seemed a miracle! And in all of London, he should discover her at the Serpentine was even more of a miraculous event.

  “How did you find me?”

  “To my good fortune, you had told your mother where you were heading, though not with whom.”

  She wished his words didn’t cause an immediate blush to creep onto her face, yet she could feel it. No doubt, she looked as guilty as the mythological Pandora peeking in the cursed box.

  “I thought you had no feelings for Alder,” he ground out the name. “The man who callously broke faith with you last year!”

  “I don’t,” Jenny began, hardly believing they were having such a ridiculous conversation. His harsh tone was bordering on argumentative.

  “That’s not what it looked like while I stood there. You were gazing up at him with a mooning expression and, dammit, he was holding both your hands. In public!”

  “A mooning expression. Are you mad?”

  “I am most certainly not.” His tone was like ice.

  Exasperated, she raised her own voice a notch. “I haven’t seen you in months. You could have been off doing anything with anybody, and you are going to argue with me over standing with Lord Alder in plain sight?”

  He folded his arms again, looking thunderous. “You are not using his first name now, I hear.”

  The carriage rocked to a stop and without waiting for his assistance or the footman’s, Jenny wrenched the carriage handle up and jerked the door open. Without the folding step, she had to jump down onto the pavement.

  “You are being insufferable!” she said over her shoulder, stomping up the steps to their townhouse. Binkley had the door open for her before she even lifted her hand.

  Not hesitating, she walked directly past the butler and up the stairs to the room she had had to herself for such a long time. She needed a moment to calm her temper for this was not the homecoming she’d envisioned. That they were starting like this was absurd.

  However, without a pause, Simon was right behind her. As she entered her chamber, he was at her back propelling her into the room in order to shut the door behind them. And lock it.

  “If you thought to keep me out while you contemplated your next meeting with Michael, you may think again.”

  Involuntarily, she glanced to her writing desk where she had penned a response to Alder’s invitation that had led her to the Serpentine stroll.

  “Dammit!” Simon exclaimed, before slamming his fist into his open palm, making her jump.

  If he thought to frighten her, however, he had failed.

  “Stop it!” Jenny was half ready to weep and half infuriated.

  Stripping off her gloves, she tossed them onto the bed before tugging at her hatpin and throwing her hat toward the dresser. Lastly, she unbuttoned her wool coat that normally Binkley or her maid would have handled.

  Simon did the same, removing his great black overcoat. Then as if they were chivalrous knights preparing for battle, they both draped their garments over chairs and faced each other once again.

  “What were you doing away so long and with whom?” Jenny asked, wishing she could keep the high thread of jealousy and uncertainty from her voice.

  “I spent my time with Doctor Holtzenhelm, a squat, balding German with nose hair, whom I never once fancied tupping.”

  The image deflated her suspicions at once and even brought a sideways smile to her lips. After all, if it were a sexual encounter he’d been after, he could have stayed in England and had her.

  “Can you say the same?” Simon asked.

  Caught off guard by the question, she didn’t respond for a moment, then hands on hips, she answered him.

  “I assure you I spent absolutely no time with a short German doctor, balding or otherwise.”

  “I mean, were you with someone you fancied?”

  Rolling her eyes, she crossed her arms. Oddly, she had not taken Simon Devere for the jealous type since he’d forced her to go to London, buy gowns, and attend a Season by herself, all after taking her for his wife and then abandoning her.

  “I have been to countless dinner parties, I’ve had men blatantly peer down my décolletage. I’ve stood around the edges of too many balls to count and watched couples dance, and I have turned down a lifetime’s worth of dance requests. And during all that, I never once wanted to experience a good tupping with any one of the many men I’ve encountered.”

  He took a step forward. “Who looked down your décolletage? I’ll kill him.”

  Was he even listening to her? She remembered the night Ned had humiliated her. Simon would have more to deal with once the ton knew he had returned. Rumors of his mental capac
ity were still dancing across the tongues of many.

  “Honestly, that is not important. Shall we start over? Let me but change into a lighter weight gown and we’ll have tea. I’ll come down to the drawing room.”

  Needing to get out of the damnably heavy wool dress, Jenny was also desperate to get off her feet.

  “I don’t want to drink blasted tea with you and I won’t be dismissed from this chamber like a servant.”

  Chapter Twenty-Nine

  Jenny was sure her mouth formed a perfect O of surprise. “I didn’t mean—”

  Simon’s actions interrupted her words as he reached her in two swift steps. “Just tell me, Jenny. Am I too late?”

  Shocked by the question and even more so by the haunted look in his eyes, she shook her head in response.

  “Of course not. Whatever can you mean by asking me that?”

  He lifted his hands to her shoulders. “I had to go away to get help, but I fear I was gone too long. You are positively glowing with happiness after your outing with Alder. Have you given your affections to him?”

  Sweet Mother Mary!

  “Silly man. Alder means nothing to me. I am glowing with happiness at your return and for other reasons. There is much to tell you.”

  Looking mollified by her response, he took hold of her chin between his fingertips.

  “And I want to hear everything.” Lowering his mouth to hers, he spoke against her lips. “Later.”

  Claiming her mouth, Simon took it tenderly at first, but their passion caught hold like a flame to a dry wick. Thrusting his tongue between her parted lips, he encircled her with his arms, resting his hands low on her hips to pull her body against his.

  Relishing the feel of him, Jenny couldn’t resist pressing her full breasts against his chest and tilting her hips toward him. Grabbing his hair with both her hands, she held his head in place and let him ravish her mouth.

  Quickly, it became insufficient for either of them. Drawing her to the bed, he made her sit before he bent down to remove her walking boots. Reaching up under her skirts, Simon unhooked and peeled down her stockings.

 

‹ Prev