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

by Sydney Jane Baily

  Though he professed to not being much of a dancer, when she bought tickets to a ball at the Lowther Rooms, Michael agreed with a half-hearted shrug. Finally, on King William Street, Ada got to dance in the arms of her viscount. She felt as if she were back at her first Season.

  Closing her eyes, she let him lead her, trusting entirely he wouldn’t allow her to crash into another pair of dancers. The experience almost erased that terrible night. Almost.

  “I don’t know why you don’t like to dance. You are a fine partner,” she told him.

  Shrugging, he said, “Truthfully, I never saw the point in it. Even before I earned a reputation which made me an object of derision, I didn’t like people looking at me, waiting for me to make a misstep. Worse, during a Season, I had to hold women in whom I had positively no interest. Insipid girls, giggling ones, clutching and grasping ones, ones who stood on my feet. All hoping to dance their way into a marriage proposal, I suppose.”

  He put his mouth close to her ear. “Tonight, dancing only with you, wanting you desperately to be naked in my arms, it is a heady experience. Dancing has become an exciting prelude to what we can do with each other. Either tonight,” he paused to gauge her reaction, “or after the wedding vows.”

  Ada knew her cheeks were scarlet. Each dance after that seemed more like lovemaking, especially with his glittering gaze firmly upon her and his wicked smile sending shivers down her spine.

  Unfortunately, by the time they left, she’d realized a ball with many of the ton present was where Michael received the most rebuking looks, as well as insults either muttered under someone’s breath or hurled aloud.

  Compared to how happy she was with him, however, it was a minor irritation, and she did her best to send a quelling glare to whomever was speaking ill of her fiancé.

  Moreover, to her delight, Michael seemed to have stopped drinking. She realized some of the times when he’d been silly or giddy, he had been a little soused. Now, without the constant access to a flask in his pocket, he had a smarter humor, and they maintained the restraint of merely a glass of wine with dinner. He didn’t seem to mind, either.

  *

  A week later, instead of an obscure dance on the outskirts, they had tickets to a ball at Stafford House next to St. James Palace, hosted by Queen Victoria’s special friend, the Duchess of Sutherland. Sometimes there was only one or two balls a year at Stafford House, and they were always spectacular in every respect.

  Ada was thrilled to go without the worry of a dance card or unwanted partners. And Michael, who had never been there before, was actually looking forward to it. Three years earlier, Maggie and John had become engaged in the grand ballroom in front of the duchess, most of the upper echelons of English nobility, and the queen herself.

  Ada had been in attendance the night of Maggie’s triumph, watching along with everyone else as the Earl of Cambrey publicly declared his love. She could not have imagined then how her own romantic illusions would be destroyed a mere month later.

  Passing through the entrance of the buttery-colored stone building, they turned in their cloaks, and Ada changed into her dancing slippers. Then they ascended the magnificent, bifurcated staircase. Some of the attendees chose the left stairs, but she and Michael, who looked so handsome she thought he could have no equal there that night, took the right.

  The Earl and Countess of Cambrey would be there tonight, as they had returned to the venue each year since their engagement, and Ada hoped to run into them. It wasn’t as crowded as the last time Ada had attended, when she and Maggie hadn’t been able to find each other for hours.

  Upstairs in the massive chamber housing the ball, the excitement was practically palpable. Music already floated through the room, as did a veritable army of servants. Instead of only the usual champagne and lemonade, though, some waiters carried trays of liquor. Ada knew this when an excited older lady, called out to one, “Come back with that Dutch Courage,” as some called the aromatic gin.

  Very unusual, Ada thought, not only because of the cost, but also the unspoken agreement that these large gatherings were made for dancing and socializing and most definitely not for becoming rowdy and drunk. If this many people started to become unruly, it could be a disaster. Moreover, they would spill out into the streets of London, causing mayhem in their carriages.

  Ada took the glass of champagne Michael handed her.

  “They’re serving Plymouth gin with lime juice in honor of the Royal Navy,” he informed her. “I just learned that from Lord Dunford. Maybe one of the duchess’s sons has joined up.”

  A slight apprehension skittered along Ada’s spine, but Michael was holding merely champagne in his hand.

  In a few minutes, they were enjoying their first dance, and then another. After a third, she excused herself to the ladies’ retiring room, only to finally encounter Maggie.

  Squealing their excitement, they ran into each other’s arms, drawing attention, though no one would scold the Countess of Cambrey for unseemly behavior.

  The other ladies might very well reprimand the fiancée of Lord Vile, Ada thought, if her friend weren’t beside her and if anyone knew of her engaged state.

  “I can’t believe I’ve found you,” Maggie declared. Despite starting to show her state of pregnancy, her gown was the height of fashion, and she was beaming with happiness.

  “I love this place,” she confessed. “Well, I don’t mean in here, exactly,” Maggie added, gesturing around her where other ladies were smoothing their hair or adjusting their gowns. “I mean Stafford House, of course. Though I can’t believe I shall ever find John again tonight.”

  Ada felt equally joyful. “I hope you’ve designated a place to meet.”

  “Yes, and you?” Maggie looked questioning. “You are here with your fiancé?”

  “Of course.” Ada said. She’d told her best friend, and no one else. After all, they’d shared everything over the years.

  She only wished her friend’s countenance didn’t dim at the mere mention of Michael, or her tone sometimes become disapproving.

  “Be happy for me,” Ada exclaimed all at once.

  Maggie lowered herself onto one of the tufted seats before a looking glass, careful not to wrinkle her dress.

  “I am happy for you. In fact, it’s time we got the men together. John will come around when he sees Lord Vi—I mean Lord Alder behaving like a gentleman toward you.”

  Occupying the empty divan beside her, Ada spoke to her friend’s reflection.

  “He does behave very well. What’s more, he’s suits me in all manner and aspects. You know that feeling, don’t you?” she asked Maggie, who was patting her hair as she gazed at herself.

  Her friend nodded. “I know it well.”

  “And you can’t imagine any other man knowing you so well or being quite so funny or charming or so dash-fire handsome?” Ada continued.

  Their eyes met in the mirror.

  “You really love him, I take it.”

  Ada nodded. “Yes.”

  “Then let’s go find John and we’ll go together to where you are to meet up with Lord Alder. By the end of tonight, perhaps they will be if not fast and firm friends, then at least amiable acquaintances.”

  Linking arms, they left the room and strolled the perimeter of the throng until they came upon Lord Angsley, Earl of Cambrey at the designated spot.

  “I thought I might never see my beautiful wife again,” John quipped. “But now I know what took her so long. And she’s doubled the beauty by bringing you.” He bowed to Ada. “How are you? Would you like some champagne?”

  “I’m well,” she said, “and no to more champagne. Thank you.”

  “Maybe gin, then?” John asked, holding up his own glass.

  She laughed. “Have you ever heard of such a thing before?”

  “No,” he agreed, “at least not at a party of this scale. Must be costing the duke and duchess a pretty penny.”

  Taking her husband’s glass from him and setti
ng it down, Maggie offered him a dazzling smile. “We were thinking of going to find Ada’s fiancé.”

  Ada was certain her friend’s voice thickened on the last word, as if it might stick in her throat. Would anyone ever accept Michael as a reformed rake?

  John grimaced. “If he is lost, may I suggest we leave him that way?”

  Ada rolled her eyes. “Obviously, you admire your own sense of humor. However, I ask only that you give him a chance. You know me. I wouldn’t have become engaged to the man if I didn’t think he had a core of decency.”

  “And then there’s her gorgeous ring,” Maggie chimed in, snatching up Ada’s hand and holding it in front of her husband’s nose. Plainly visible through the pastel-colored, silk net glove was Ada’s engagement ring, now perfectly sized to her finger.

  He peered at it. “There’s no question Alder has taste. I mean, he chose to set his sights on Ada Kate, didn’t he? Very well. Let’s go find him. I assume you have some idea where he will be.”

  “We thought it would be far easier to find one another downstairs, near the back terrace.”

  The three of them traversed the picture gallery, went down the stairs, crossed the inner courtyard to reach the back of Stafford House.

  “I’ve seen so much parquet, marble, and gilt, my head is spinning,” Maggie said.

  “Truly, those arched windows in the ceiling of the picture gallery are brilliant,” Ada added. “It must be full of light all day.”

  “Personally, I’m particularly partial to the dark cozy alcoves along the second-floor gallery,” John said, and Ada noticed he shared a private look with Maggie. Apparently, more had gone on at Stafford House than the exciting proposal in the great hall.

  “Why don’t you two stay here, and I’ll bring him over.”

  She felt as though she would be taming a wild tiger and luring him into the civilized world of the Cambreys. Michael would be hesitant at best. Moreover, he wouldn’t want to be surprised by all three of them seeking him out.

  Of that, she was certain.

  Ada would warn him first, and then they would all go back upstairs and enjoy the dancing.

  Leaving Maggie and John in each other’s arms, swaying to music only they could hear, Ada searched the back entrance and then pushed open one of the many doors leading to the back of the house.

  Stepping onto the veranda, scanning the length of it, she gasped. There was Michael, her Michael, wrapped around a woman whose back was toward her. As Ada watched, he leaned in closer—was he nuzzling her neck?—and then he gestured out into the garden.

  The floor beneath Ada seemed to shift, and she found it difficult to take a deep breath. Immediately taking a step backward to remain hidden in the shadows of the portico, she could only imagine how awful it would be if he were to glance up, see her, and stutter out a ridiculous explanation.

  Who was this woman in her fiancé’s arms?

  Her brain tried to make sense of it, first thinking this was simply his sister. But she was definitely not Camille. Then she decided it was not Michael but a doppelganger. However, watching for a moment and hearing him laugh at something the woman said, she knew without a doubt it was him.

  A sharp pang of jealousy lanced her. It was an extremely unpleasant, painful sensation. Moreover, it made her angry as a wet cat. She was Ada Kathryn Ellis, who’d made her way in the world quite well, better even than most men of her class. If Michael Alder wanted to hang upon some young miss at a ball or kiss her on the veranda, she wasn’t going to let it affect her.

  The woman was nothing to her, nor was he, for that matter. He didn’t mean a damn thing!

  How had she forgotten how vile he was?

  Even then, he was probably scheming to get the girl alone in the garden.

  She was done with this charade of an engagement. It was time to end it.

  Turning, she headed back inside. Head down, thoughts whirling, she momentarily forgot about her friends until Maggie called out to her as she nearly passed them by.

  “Did you find him?”

  Hesitating only an instant, unable to look at them, Ada shook her head.

  “No,” she replied because it was the easiest thing to say. “I have to leave. I’ll talk to you anon.”

  Hurrying now, she heard Maggie call out to her and then John did the same, but she had started to run. She needed to be alone.

  In a short time, Ada was in a hired Hansom cab and nearly home. A bowl of Mary’s excellent rice pudding with sultanas and nutmeg as well as a cuddle with Dash would put her to rights.

  She was correct on both counts. Sitting in her library, an empty pudding dish beside her and Dash lying across her feet, Ada thought about the last few months of her life. She’d lost nothing by her association with Lord Vile. Thankfully, with the little wisdom she hadn’t forsaken while foolishly growing fond of him, she had at least not let him bed her. At least not entirely.

  No! She needn’t feel humiliated. Moreover, she would never tell him she was the girl from the gazebo. How smug he would be if he learned she’d let herself get caught up by his charm again after how he’d treated her. But she would never tell.

  As Ada turned up the lamp and opened the newspaper, Lucy knocked on the door and entered with unwelcome news.

  “Lord Alder is in the foyer, missus.”

  “Tell him I have retired.”

  “Yes, missus.”

  Lucy went away, leaving Ada curious as to his purpose. He’d been ready to pounce upon the woman he was with, already at the stage of nuzzling her neck. Unless he’d acted very quickly indeed, he should still be with her with his hands under her skirts.

  How she wished she hadn’t given Mr. Randall the night off when she thought she’d be out until all hours.

  Biting her bottom lip, knowing he was yards away on her doorstep, she tried to think of something else. Like the stock exchange. Or cutting Dash’s toenails.

  Loud footfalls in the hallway, stopping outside the library door, caused her to stand, while Dash jumped to his furry feet. Unless Lucy was now wearing Hessians, it could only be—

  The sharp rap on the door made her startle. Before she could respond, Ada heard him.

  “I wish to speak with you. I will not be turned away.”

  Impossible! How could he breach the sanctity of her home uninvited? Beyond discourteous, it was nearly criminal!

  Even worse, before she had time to reply, he opened the door.

  “How dare you!” she exclaimed, and her tone caused Dash to begin to bark.

  Michael’s eyes narrowed, taking in her appearance.

  “How dare I? Are you ill? Do you have a headache?”

  “No,” she bit out, and to Dash, she said softly, “hush.”

  “Then I am utterly perplexed,” Michael continued. “Why did you leave the ball and without a word to me? I was worried out of my mind.”

  Michael bent down to pat Dash on the head. To her, he seemed amazingly nonchalant, as if less than an hour earlier, he hadn’t had those same hands on an unwitting female.

  Ada raised her chin. “I don’t have to explain myself to you, Lord Vile.”

  He jerked his head back as if struck and rose to his feet.

  “What has gotten into you?”

  “Some common sense,” she all but hissed. “We are finished.”

  Again, he looked stricken and confused.

  “Ada, what are you saying? I love you, and you love me.”

  In her mind, she saw him once more with his arms around the stranger. Had they taken the few steps into the garden? Had he kissed that woman the same way he kissed her?

  “Ha! Don’t be ridiculous,” she spat. “Who could love you? Your parents did Jenny a favor.”

  She was gratified to see his stunned expression. At last, he was paying the price for what he’d done to her.

  “Love you?” she repeated. “I tolerated you and let myself be seen with you, despite the awful stain to my reputation, only to determine if you had a heart
worth shattering. Tonight, I have my answer.”

  He said nothing, standing stark still in the middle of her library rug, jaw clenched, staring at her.

  She considered how swiftly he’d changed while she had been away, talking with Maggie, merely half an hour at most. What had spurred Michael to become Lord Vile again, going after whatever skirt came too close?

  Approaching him, she leaned her face close to his and sniffed.

  “Gin!” she proclaimed, easily able to detect the nearly perfume-like scent of the juniper liquor, plus she could smell the fresh aroma of lime.

  He blanched. “Yes, I had a glass of blasted gin. And what of it? I am entirely sober, I assure you. I had no idea a drink of liquor would unleash this tirade against me, or cause the loss of your affections. I don’t believe you could have loved me if such is the case. I promise you my love for you is stronger than a single mistake.”

  If only it were as simple as a single drink of gin. In fact, if Michael were inebriated, at least he could use it as an excuse, but he was right. He seemed quite sober.

  “As for your loving me,” Ada said, looking him right in his glorious amber-flecked eyes, “I don’t think you know how to love. But I’m certainly glad to know you feel something for me. If breaking our engagement hurts you even a little, that only makes it all the sweeter.”

  Saying such hateful words made her own heart ache, and she desperately wanted to be alone.

  Watching his now beloved face was painful to her, especially when his countenance went from one of confusion to hurt. If she didn’t know what a beastly cad he was, she would be in tears.

  “I want you to leave now and never come back. My door will not be opened to you again.” She pulled the ring off her hand and held it out to him.

  His gaze went from her to the ring, which he didn’t take. Instead, he looked away, at the bookcase, at Dash, at the rug, as if it were too difficult to look directly at her.

  Turning away, he started to leave without another word, and a flash of fury ignited in her chest. If he had loved her at all, he would have fought to save what they had.