Del Monte gave an exaggerated sigh, and helped him undress, handling the dusty garments with a display of fastidious distaste – a display which Dash knew was entirely an act.
An hour later, after a decent warm bath, dressed in clothing far more formal and restrictive than he preferred, Dash entered his study. A small brandy was in order, while he waited for the carriage to be brought around. He wondered how much Alex might have changed, in the more than a year since Dash had seen him – what might taking on the title, and marrying, have done to the carefree man he remembered?
In Italy, Alex had appreciated the items Dash collected – the ones he saw, anyway, and they had often discussed the ingenuity of men when seeking the pleasures of the flesh. What sort of woman might he have married? One who understood and embraced passion, like the Italian women he remembered fondly, or one who was more a cold and collected English prude? Dash shuddered at the thought of the latter, and downed the last of his brandy, just as Chalmers tapped at the door.
“The carriage is ready, my Lord.”
~~~~~
Mariel stared out of the carriage window as they approached Fortescue Grange. The late afternoon sun was a rich golden tone, making the world look as if it was much warmer than the reality. The long shadows cast from the trees and the house stretched across fields still dusted with snow. She was tired yet excited to be there. How much had changed since last she had seen the place! It seemed improbable that it had only been six weeks ago, that she had first travelled up this driveway. Opposite her, her maid Hattie dozed on the carriage seat, her bonnet askew.
“Hattie! Wake up, we have arrived – well, almost.”
Hattie was perhaps ten years older than Mariel, a kind woman with an obsessive attention to detail when it came to her mistress’ appearance. She was not easily shocked, and she was deeply loyal – traits which Mariel greatly appreciated, given her own propensity for taking risks which might easily turn to scandal if things went wrong. Hattie half snorted, and started awake, fussing over her bonnet a moment before looking out of the window.
“Oh my, I’d forgotten just how big this place is! It does look so imposing.”
“It does. But…” they turned the final curve of the drive, and Mariel peered towards the front door, “is that a carriage drawn up outside?”
“It is, my Lady. It appears to have a coat of arms on the door, so it must be someone of importance.”
They drew closer, and as they came to a halt near the other carriage, a footman opened its door and let down the steps. A man emerged – obviously a gentleman, from his dress and manner. But a man that Mariel had never seen before in her life. Most interesting.
He was tall, fairly lean in a way that suggested he did not lack for exercise, with dark brown hair that the late afternoon sun drew glints of red from. Mariel, in her usual manner, considered his physical appeal. She could not deny that he was good to look upon – his skin was lightly tanned, in a similar manner to that of the Duke whose house he was visiting, and she wondered if this man too had spent time in Italy, or elsewhere in sunny climes.
The lines of his face were elegant, and the low angled sunlight cast his profile into strong relief. For a moment, Mariel felt her breathing hitch. She shook the sensation away and kept watching as a footman approached her carriage and opened the door. Perforce, she had to turn her eyes away to ensure her safe footing as she stepped down from the carriage, and by the time she looked back, he was gone – disappeared into the house.
Deeply curious, she led Hattie towards the front steps, leaving the footman and her coachman to deal with her luggage. Hallam, the butler, greeted her with a smile.
“Good afternoon, Lady Mariel. We have given you the rooms that you used on your last visit – shall I have your luggage sent straight up?”
“Yes, thank you. Hattie, will you see to the unpacking? And prepare something for me to change into, for dinner?”
“Yes, my Lady.”
As Mariel turned back to Hallam, intending to ask after Selina’s whereabouts, Selina rushed into the foyer.
“Mariel! I am so glad that you are finally here. Do come into the parlour and greet Alex. Oh, and meet our dinner guest.”
Mariel looked at her for a moment, considering, then glanced down at the crushed folds of her dress, which had suffered from the hours in the carriage.
“Perhaps I should change first? I am, I believe, rather unfashionably travel worn.”
Selina laughed, shaking her head.
“You look beautiful regardless, but if you wish…”
“I think that I do, given that you have another guest – I would not want to be thought unkempt!”
“Then let me come with you, and we can talk as you change. I am quite certain that Alex can entertain Lord Longwood by himself for now.”
They set off up the stairs, and Mariel looked curiously at Selina.
“Lord Longwood? I do not know the name, and I thought that I knew of every man of the ton, almost – for I have studied which are worthy of… further investigation… and which are worthy of being avoided.”
“‘Further investigation’ – how delicate of you, Mariel – when I know that you mean kisses, and more!”
Mariel laughed.
“See what not having you to talk to has done to me? I am actually developing the dreadful habit of being as proprietous as my mother would like me to be!”
They reached the rooms, which were just as Mariel remembered, and found Hattie standing in the dressing room, with open trunks and hatboxes scattered around her.
“Oh! My Lady, I didn’t expect you quite yet. But, if you wish to change, I have these two dresses which are not at all crushed from the trunks – will one of these suit?”
“The blue one will do nicely, thank you. That shade of blue always makes my eyes look brighter.”
As Hattie began to undo the buttons on her travelling dress, Mariel turned back to Selina.
“So – I must admit that I am full of curiosity – about your life, and all of the things that your letter suggested we might speak of – and about your guest downstairs. Lord Longwood? Who is he – I mean, where does he fit amongst the tangled relationships of the ton? And why have I never heard of him?”
Selina laughed – a melodious sound, which Mariel loved – and envied, for she did not think her own laugh to be anywhere near as pleasant sounding.
“As far as the details I referred to in my letter, perhaps that is best left until we can have a private coze, away from everyone – mayhap late tonight, or tomorrow? But with respect to Lord Longwood – you have not seen or heard of him before, because he has been out of the country for seven or eight years – in Italy, and in other countries, on the continent and beyond. He is a Marquess – his father is the Duke of Cockleigh, and he is the heir. But he cares more for travel, and collecting things from distant places, than for English society – at least that’s what Alex told me. Alex met him in Italy, and they became friends. Lord Longwood has very recently returned to England, and Longwood Peak is but half an hour’s drive from here.”
“If his estate is so close, how is it that Alex did not know him when they were boys?”
“He grew up at Cockleigh Great Hall, I believe, which is on the other side of the county.”
“Oh, that makes sense. But you said that he collects things from distant places? What sort of things – for that could be either interesting or boring. After all, you remember that dreadful Lord Chasetick? The one who collected stick insects from around the world, and talked of nothing else?”
Selina shuddered.
“I can assure you that Lord Longwood appears to be nothing like that. But… there is some mystery about him. For Alex refused to tell me exactly what it is that he collects – he said something along the lines of ‘Lord Longwood may tell you if he wishes, for it is his business’. So I don’t know. But I am determined to find out.”
“Ooh! That is rather intriguing. What could it be, that requires
such discretion in knowing of it?”
Hattie, all the while they had talked, had gone about the process of getting Mariel out of one dress and into the other, of changing her necklace to suit, and of tidying her travel tumbled dark curls. Mariel had simply complied with whatever she wanted, like an obedient doll, her whole attention focussed on her conversation with Selina.
“There, my Lady, unless you want to change anything, I think that you are ready to go downstairs now. And I will get back to unpacking.”
Mariel spun to look at herself in the mirror, and nodded in satisfaction.
“I’ll ask the kitchen to send you up a meal, Hattie, so that you are certain to remember to eat.”
“Thank you, my Lady.”
Selina raised an eyebrow at Mariel, and once they had left the room, Mariel explained.
“Hattie is obsessive about making me look my best – she truly would forget to eat, to have everything in order before I come back up.”
“Well… I can see how that could be both useful and annoying. Lisbet is rather more relaxed.”
Mariel nodded, and they turned towards the parlour as they reached the bottom of the flight of stairs. She caught Hallam’s attention, and requested the meal for Hattie, then followed Selina. As Selina opened the parlour door, Mariel observed the room she was entering. Lord Longwood stood with Alex near the fireplace, and the combination of firelight and candlelight made his tanned skin seem even warmer toned. He looked in their direction at the click of the door, and Mariel’s eyes met his.
His eyes were a deep amber colour, with dark flecks in their depths. For a moment, it was as if she had fallen into a pool of honey – everything slowed, and all she could see was that rich gold. Then he looked away, and the moment passed. She looked at him again. He seemed ordinary – quiet in his manner, and in his dress, as if he sought to be barely noticeable. She wondered why – was it intentional, or was he actually scholarly and boring, despite his travels?
They moved across the room, and Alex came to take her hands in welcome.
“Welcome back to Fortescue Grange, Lady Mariel. I trust that you will enjoy your visit… even if the… entertainment… is rather less dramatic than last time you were here.”
His eyes sparkled with mischief, and she knew exactly what he referred to.
“Thank you, Your Grace. I fully intend to enjoy myself – without the need for quite that sort of… entertainment… although it was most educational, I must say.”
Alex sketched her a bow, full of humour.
Then he drew her forward, towards Lord Longwood, who had observed their cryptic conversation in polite patient silence.
“May I present Dashiell Hardstone, Marquess of Longwood? Dash, this is Lady Mariel Angleton, my wife’s closest friend, and the woman who provided us some… assistance… in the matter of achieving our marriage.”
Lord Longwood took her hand, and bowed – an elegant movement, with nothing ostentatious about it.
“I am delighted to meet you, Lady Mariel. I must admit to being a little intrigued by that introduction.”
Mariel met his eyes and for a moment, again, everything else faded away. He smiled, and the smile transformed his face from serious, and a little dull, to rather spectacularly handsome. She took a breath – how on earth could she answer the implied question in his words?
Then it came to her, and a wicked little smile curled her lips.
“Lord Longwood, I am afraid that, should you wish to know more of what is behind that introduction, you will have to ask His Grace – it is his story to tell.”
Beside her, Selina stifled a tiny spurt of laughter, and Alex flicked a glance to Selina. It was clear that both of them had caught the echo of the words he had spoken to Selina, about Lord Longwood’s collecting.
Lord Longwood bowed again, and looked at his hosts.
“Then I shall have to ask him, at the earliest suitable moment.”
Mariel smiled, and said nothing further.
Almost immediately, as a moment’s silence fell amongst them, there was a tap at the door, and dinner was announced. Lord Longwood offered Mariel his arm, and they followed Selina and Alex to the dining room.
~~~~~
Dash found himself frustrated, and intrigued at the same time. When Alex had informed him of their other guest, he had expected a society darling, with barely a thought in her head – although that expectation had rapidly become less certain as he took the measure of Alex’s Duchess. Who was most definitely intelligent, and not at all what he had expected. And as Lady Mariel was her closest friend…
As dinner wore on, and everyone relaxed into conversation, he found himself wanting to talk about his collection, about what he was doing at Longwood Peak, about his annoyance with the Museum – but he resisted the temptation – he did not know enough about either the Duchess or Lady Mariel to risk speaking of his scandalous interests.
So he allowed others to set the conversational topics, and spoke happily of his time in Italy, without mentioning specific items. He found his eyes returning to Lady Mariel, repeatedly. Her deep violet eyes sparkled, her dark hair and slightly olive skin tone reminded him of the vibrant Italian beauties he had dallied with, and it became steadily more clear that she was astute, with a sharp sense of humour.
Which made her all the more dangerous to his composure.
Chapter Three
Mariel and Selina sat in the library of Fortescue Grange, each curled comfortably in a large chair near the fire, with a small table between them, holding a tea tray and a plate of assorted cakes and pastries. Mariel smiled, her eyes on the flickering flames in the hearth.
“Being in this room can’t help but remind me…”
“Of the night of our ‘scandal’?”
“Yes. What I heard that night… and saw… I can’t get it out of my head. It made me go back to that book, you know, the explicit one I showed you, and look at it all again with a very different perspective. And now you get to do things like that, all the time. I will admit that I am jealous.”
“It’s wonderful. I won’t try to deny it. I had no idea what was possible, between a man and a woman. It is remarkable the pleasure that is to be had. I think that the pictures and the descriptions in that book of yours barely begin to cover it.”
Mariel sighed.
“You saying such things only makes me more envious! I cannot, simply cannot, imagine any of the eligible gentlemen of the ton, whom I have met, doing half of those things. At least… not in a way designed to give me pleasure, rather than just themselves. They are all so very… proper, and stuffy.”
Mariel shook her head, and Selina laughed at her mournful expression.
“Well, yes. They are stuffy – at least with their wives. From what Alex tells me, most of them think that wives should not really get much pleasure from sexual congress – that such is reserved for courtesans and mistresses – as if taking pleasure from it somehow makes a woman a wanton harlot. Men are so utterly ridiculous at times. Because if that opinion was true, then I would have declared myself a harlot many times over. I am so glad that Alex takes a very different approach.”
“And you were always the quiet, well behaved one! My mother has long been convinced that I will end in scandal, no matter how hard she tries to make me the perfect lady. If you find that such activities make you willingly wanton, what are they likely to do to me?”
Selina laughed again.
“I suspect that you will, once you find a suitable man, enjoy yourself more than you have ever imagined might be possible. So, obviously, we must find you a suitable man, at the earliest opportunity.”
“And just where will we do that? I believe that I know every man of the ton – well, except for Lord Longwood.”
“And what do you think of him? I met him for the first time, the same evening that you did, so I don’t know much of him yet – but he seemed pleasant, and reasonable – not stuffy at all. And he is rather good looking – it may not be the fashion
, but I think that a bit of colour on the skin, from the sun, makes a man look healthier, more… virile…”
“I am not sure what I think of him. I’ll agree that he is pleasant to look at, but at dinner he was quiet, almost reserved – if it weren’t for what you told me, about his mysterious collection, I would have thought him dull. But… I will reserve judgement, until I discover what it is that he collects. Perhaps he was just reserved because he’d only just met us, and did not know what sort of people we are. After all, we are not, exactly, like most young women of the aristocracy.”
Selina reached out and squeezed her hand.
“And I am so very glad that we are not. I think I might have been like the rest of them, if it were not for my friendship with you, Mariel.”
Mariel felt herself flush – Selina was probably right, and it was wonderful that Selina saw it as a positive – Mariel suspected that others would have described it more as Mariel leading Selina astray.
“Oh, surely not – I think that you would have rebelled eventually, with or without me. That aside – while I am here, might I dig about in this library,” she waved her hand at the extensive shelves which loomed around them, “to see what interesting things I can find?”
“Of course you can. When you say ‘interesting’, do you mean more books like…”
Mariel nodded.
“Yes, more books like that explicit one I showed you. There must be many more books like that, surely, for men have always wanted…”
“I am sure that there are, and that most libraries in older stately homes might contain one or more. But they may well be hidden – so as ‘not to shock the ladies of the house’ – or the maids, for that matter.”
“Well, if things are hidden, I shall enjoy exploring until I find them. The darker and dustier the corners, the more likely they are to contain treasure. And that treasure, for me at least, is not just explicit books about the things that a man and woman can do together. I am also looking for something that seems almost more rare than that. I always look to see if there are any books written in Russian.”
Lady Mariel's Scandalous Love: Regency Romance (Regency Scandals Book 2) Page 2