London Temptations: Historical Regency Romance Collection

by Joyce Alec

  “Lord Farrington,” Lady Rutherford said eventually, coming to a stop and turning to face him, her eyes fixed to his in an instant. “I must ask you about the house party that my husband attended many years ago.”

  Instantly, panic seized Thomas’ heart. He could feel the warmth draining from him and was certain that his face was now rather pale. He had spent the last five years doing all he could to forget that particular event and had no intention of speaking of it now. Besides which, Lord Rutherford himself had sworn him to silence and, despite the fact that he was no longer of this world, Thomas had every intention of keeping his word.

  “You attended it, did you not?”

  “I did,” Thomas replied, aware of the intensity of her gaze but refusing to allow it to alter his intentions in any way. “Lord Stevenson’s house party was most enjoyable.”

  “My late husband was there also.”

  “He was.”

  Lady Rutherford hesitated, then tilted her head, still watching him steadily. “My husband came home an unwell man,” she said slowly. “He spoke a few words to me, words that I do not understand as yet. Tell me, Lord Farrington, was there any difficulty at the house party that might have troubled my husband so?”

  Thomas frowned, pretending that he was doing his very best to cast his thoughts back to that particular time, before he shook his head, one shoulder lifting.

  “I cannot recall anything of note,” he said nonchalantly. “I am sorry if that does not bring any comfort to you, Lady Rutherford, but I must be truthful.”

  This did not seem to satisfy Lady Rutherford, for her expression did not alter. She said nothing and did nothing, simply remaining just as she was and leaving Thomas feeling as though she needed him to speak a little more. Did she know, somehow, that he had kept the truth back from her? Surely she could not see into his heart and know that he was hiding it from her?

  Clearing his throat and shuffling his feet a little awkwardly, Thomas tried to smile. “I am sorry, Lady Rutherford,” he said again. “Might I ask why you seek to speak to me about such matters? It has been five years, has it not?”

  Lady Rutherford gave a small, sad smile. “My son is only just five years of age, Lord Farrington,” she said as Thomas nodded, not quite certain what she meant. “He has never once met his father and shall never have the opportunity to do so either. For his sake, I must do all I can to discover what my husband meant by what he said.”

  “Then I wish you the very best of luck in doing so,” Thomas replied, ignoring the way that his heart had begun to hammer furiously. “I am only sorry that I cannot be of further assistance.”

  Lady Rutherford said nothing for some minutes, watching him still and making his heart slam hard into his chest all over again. Was she expecting him to crumble before her hard gaze and reveal the truth? He had no intention of doing any such thing. He cleared his throat and looked all about him so as to bring the conversation to a close.

  “Now, should you wish to continue about the room or will I return you to Lady Fortescue?” he asked as Lady Rutherford frowned. “I will be content with whatever you decide.”

  Again, Lady Rutherford remained silent for a time, making Thomas all the more uncomfortable. He began to fear that Lady Rutherford somehow knew that he was not speaking the truth and felt the urge to try and say more, but he forced his lips closed and assumed an expectant look on his face as he turned back to Lady Rutherford.

  Eventually, she sighed and looked past him, her brows flattening and her frown disappearing. “Let us return,” she said without thanking him for his time or his conversation. Walking past him with firm steps, she strode through the crowd, leaving Thomas to catch up with her.

  Relieved that their conversation was at an end and that there was no need for them to remain in each other’s company any longer, Thomas made his way quickly back toward Lord Warwick, making certain to fall into step beside Lady Rutherford before they came into view of their friends. Lord Warwick and Lady Fortescue appeared to be in deep conversation and, much to Thomas’ surprise, there was a lightness and a happiness in Lord Warwick’s expression that Thomas had never seen before. His heart dropped. Of all the ladies to consider, of all the ladies to become enamored by, Lady Fortescue was not one that would satisfy Lord Warwick’s desire or intentions. Lord Fortescue, being a man who cared nothing for others and only for himself, would not allow his wife to be entranced by any other gentleman, even though he himself had a mistress. He would have to speak to Lord Warwick at length about this matter.

  “Ah, you have returned.” Lord Warwick grinned broadly at Thomas as they approached, with Lady Fortescue looking toward Lady Rutherford. “I trust your turn about the room was satisfactory.”

  Thomas looked toward Lady Rutherford, who merely smiled but said nothing.

  “You had an excellent conversation also, I must presume,” Thomas replied, not wanting Lord Warwick to continue speaking of Lady Rutherford. “I thank you, Lady Fortescue, for entertaining my friend so well. I do not think I have ever seen him so evidently happy.”

  Lady Fortescue did not smile at this but rather narrowed her eyes a fraction as she studied Thomas, perhaps upset or anxious as to what such a statement meant. Or was it that she feared he might use what he had seen as leverage against her in some way? Thomas felt his face burn with a sudden embarrassment, seeing how Lord Warwick’s expression no longer held a smile but rather a dark, heavy frown that tore every speck of happiness from it. Having had no intention of doing such a thing, Thomas cleared his throat and spread his hands, trying to smile at Lady Fortescue.

  “Forgive me if I have spoken out of turn,” he found himself saying as a look of astonishment began to wrap itself around Lady Fortescue’s expression. “I truly only meant to say that Lord Warwick is not very often contented in anyone’s company and that I am glad to see him so now. You must have had an excellent conversation, Lady Fortescue.”

  “I—I thank you, Lord Farrington,” came the quiet reply as Lady Fortescue glanced toward Lord Warwick, whose smile was a little forced. “I do hope you have had a pleasant conversation with Lady Rutherford also.”

  Lady Rutherford laughed before Thomas could reply, making him frown hard as he looked at the lady.

  “I do not think that Lord Farrington was at all pleased to be in my company, Lady Fortescue,” Lady Rutherford replied, shooting a glance toward Thomas that seemed to dare him to contradict her. “But for the time being, we do not need to be so again.” She curtsied quickly toward them both. “Thank you both, gentlemen. We will take our leave now. Good evening.”

  “Good evening,” Thomas found himself saying, rather astonished at the swiftness of Lady Rutherford’s departure. He found himself looking after both her and Lady Fortescue as they turned to leave, aware of how Lady Fortescue looked back toward Lord Warwick, a smile in her eyes that Thomas knew Lord Warwick returned.

  “Might I ask,” Lord Warwick began, the moment the two ladies had departed, “what it was that Lady Rutherford wished to speak to you about?”

  “Well might you ask,” Thomas replied with a shake of his head. “She spoke of Lord Stevenson’s house party, some five years ago, but I could not give her what she wished for.” That was, of course, something of a lie given that he had not spoken the truth, but Lord Warwick did not need to know such a thing. “And you enjoyed Lady Fortescue’s company, I think?”

  Lord Warwick frowned, hearing the curiosity in Thomas’ voice. “I was already acquainted with the lady but did not know she was such charming company,” he said carefully, as though choosing his words with great care. “If that is what you are seeking from me, then I shall not attempt to hide it.”

  Thomas turned to face his friend. “You must be careful,” he told him as Lord Warwick frowned. “Lord Fortescue is a gentleman who will not permit others to toy with his wife.”

  “I have no intention of doing so!” Lord Warwick exclaimed, a flush coming into his cheeks. “You may be contented with seeking o
ut the company of married ladies, but I myself am not.”

  “I did not mean to insult you,” Thomas said quickly, holding up both hands in a gesture of defense. “It is only that I could see the delight you had in being in her company—and Lady Fortescue herself clearly felt the same, although that is not at all surprising.”

  Lord Warwick frowned. “What do you mean by that?”

  Thomas shrugged. “Lord Fortescue has recently taken a mistress and is, unfortunately, rather like myself in how he conducts himself in the ton,” he said as Lord Warwick’s expression grew angry. “I will not rain down condemnation upon him since I have no right to do so, but I certainly shall state that I find his conduct rather cruel, since he insists that Lady Fortescue remain loyal to him whilst he does not remain loyal to her.”

  “That is callous indeed,” Lord Warwick replied, his jaw working furiously, “but you shall discover that I am not at all inclined to steal another gentleman’s wife, Farrington, no matter how much I might find myself drawn to her.” He drew himself up, his head lifted and his expression firm. “Now, if you will excuse me, I think I shall seek a few dances for this evening.”

  Thomas nodded, fearing that he had insulted his friend without having any intention of doing so. “But of course,” he said as Lord Warwick nodded and walked directly past Thomas, leaving him standing alone.

  Allowing a long sigh to escape him, Thomas shook his head to himself as his friend departed. He had expected this evening to be one of joviality and excitement but instead, he had discovered himself caught up with Lady Rutherford and, thereafter, pulled into many thoughts about the past and the house party he had tried so very hard to forget. And now, it seemed, he had insulted Lord Warwick, without having had any intention of doing so. It seemed to Thomas that this evening was nothing short of abject failure in every way, for his own intentions and plans had been quite ruined by the arrival of Lady Rutherford. Cursing quietly under his breath, Thomas decided to find himself another glass of brandy and, thereafter, the card room. Mayhap for this evening, he would have better luck there than in the ballroom itself. Turning on his heel, he made his way through the throng, regret and irritation mounting in his heart. If only Lady Rutherford had not insisted on speaking with him. Then this evening might have gone very well indeed.

  5

  Josephine smiled warmly at her host before making her way into the house. It was to be an assembly this evening and, to her very great delight, everything appeared to be quite magnificent.

  “Good evening, Lady Rutherford.”

  Josephine made her way through the room, taking everybody in and quietly making certain that she was acquainted with those she recognized and that she could recall their names. Her quarry was not here at present, she realized, smiling at yet another welcoming face. She would have to bide her time, which was no great trial given that the evening would be, she was sure, a most excellent one.

  “Ah, Lady Rutherford.”

  Coming to a stop, Josephine smiled at Lady Edgewood and curtsied quickly. “Good evening, Lady Edgewood,” she replied, not betraying her lack of interest in speaking to the lady whom she knew very well to be nothing more than a gossip. No doubt the lady wished to speak to Josephine in order to understand precisely why she was in society, most likely with the hope of expressing such an understanding to others.

  “You are here alone this evening, then?” Lady Edgewood said with a lift of her brow. “There is none accompanying you?”

  Josephine allowed herself a small laugh, looking at Lady Edgewood with a smile in her eyes. “I think, Lady Edgewood, that you will find I am greatly pleased at being able to be so,” she said as the older lady frowned. “I am not at all inclined to force my company upon anyone, nor to demand that they take me to occasions such as this. No, indeed, I am delighted to be in my own company, to take my own carriage and to step inside without consideration for any other save for myself.”

  This did not please Lady Edgewood, for her smile disappeared at once and she tutted lightly, a sound that Josephine was determined to ignore.

  “You are not, then, seeking out a particular gentleman this evening?” Lady Edgewood asked, arching one eyebrow. “I had thought that a widowed lady such as yourself might be all the more eager to marry again. After all,” she continued with a sweep of her hand as she gestured to Josephine’s frame, “you are young enough to present any gentleman here with his next heir.”

  This brought a slight blush to Josephine’s cheeks, but she did not allow the statement to discomfit her in any way.

  “I am not at all eager to do any such thing,” she told Lady Edgewood firmly, who then appeared to be all the more disappointed. “I have my son to consider and he is my only thought when it comes to my future, Lady Edgewood. I am sure that, as a mother yourself, you can understand such things.”

  Lady Edgewood let out a startled exclamation. “Indeed, I cannot,” she replied, looking at Josephine as though she was being quite foolish. “My children are only an afterthought, Lady Rutherford. They first had their nanny, then their governess or tutor, and then my sons were off to Eton.” She shrugged. “My daughter was, of course, very quickly married and thus, there is no need for me to give any great consideration to any of them, at any point in their lives. So long as I have done my duty—as you have done—then what thought needs to be sent toward them?”

  This, Josephine knew, was the expression and the expectation of many a lady of the ton but it was not one that she herself could understand. Her dear son was more precious to her than anything else in this world and the fact that Lady Edgewood could simply throw aside her obligations to her children, could speak of them without any warmth or delight in her heart or in her expression, was quite incomprehensible to Josephine.

  “No, indeed, you shall never find a husband again if you think in such a way,” Lady Edgewood declared, as though Josephine was in the wrong for thinking of her son in such a manner. “Little wonder that you are so determined to remain entirely alone, Lady Rutherford. Your considerations are much too ridiculous.”

  Josephine opened her mouth to say more, a flicker of anger in her heart, only to be interrupted by another voice.

  “Good evening, Lady Rutherford. Might I beg your company for a few moments?”

  With relief, Josephine looked back at Lady Fortescue, who had something of a knowing look in her eye.

  “Do excuse me, Lady Edgewood,” she said, before turning away from the lady without another word. Lady Fortescue said nothing, smiling to herself as both she and Josephine made their way to the other side of the room. Josephine could feel the tight knot of tension in her heart begin to unwind itself the further away she went from Lady Edgewood, allowing her to take in a long, heavy breath that chased away the last of her ire.

  “I believe I could feel the tension between you both from across the room,” Lady Fortescue laughed as they came to a stop. “Are you all right?”

  Josephine winced. “I managed to keep my temper at least, although had you not appeared when you did, I fear that I would have said something that was quite improper.” Giving herself a slight shake, she gave Lady Fortescue a wry smile. “The lady has very different expectations of me than I do myself. She thinks I should be seeking out another husband and seemed to be almost insulted when I said I would not.”

  “Lady Edgewood is inclined to consider her opinion of much greater importance than anyone else, I am afraid,” Lady Fortescue replied with a chuckle. “Now…” Her expression became serious. “I know that you have been seeking Lord Kingston and, whilst we have discovered that he is in London, he has not been seen at any social occasions.”

  “That is so,” Josephine said, glancing around her. “But I was assured that Lord Kingston would be present this evening.” She vaguely remembered the gentleman from when she had first been in London, but she had not seen him in some years.

  “And he is,” Lady Fortescue replied with a smile.

  Josephine’s heart began to qui
cken, her hands clasping tightly together. “Are you certain it is he?”

  Lady Fortescue nodded. “I am quite sure,” she replied, although her smile began to fade and a seriousness came into her eyes. “He is a rather quiet gentleman and not inclined to much conversation, however,” she warned Josephine. “I do not know what his reaction will be to your presence, though. It may be that he will be very glad to speak to you.”

  Josephine nodded, saying nothing but allowing Lady Fortescue to lead her across the room toward a crowd of gentlemen. Her palms were clammy, her heart beating with a great deal of force and her stomach tightening with anticipation. Expecting to greet someone within the group of gentlemen before them, Josephine was rather surprised when Lady Fortescue led her past them all and near to the back of the room, where two gentlemen were talking together.

  “Lord Kingston,” Josephine whispered to herself, her eyes alighting on the gentleman before her. She recognized him instantly, although he was certainly a little older. He glanced toward both her and Lady Fortescue, before returning to his conversation with the other gentleman. The second gentleman quickly took his leave, evidently aware that Lady Fortescue and Josephine wished to speak with Lord Kingston, leaving them both free to greet him.

  “Good evening, Lord Kingston,” Josephine said at once, curtsying. “I do not know if you recall me but—”

  “Lady Rutherford,” Lord Kingston’s eyes widened but he bowed low to cover his surprise, before lifting his head to look at her again. “How very good to see you. It has been some years, has it not?”

  She laughed and nodded. “A good many years, Lord Kingston,” she replied. “I had heard you were in London and I had hoped to greet you again.”

  His brows lifted. “I am honored, Lady Rutherford,” he told her. “I am rather disinclined toward society, however. I am a contented gentleman, but my dear wife is very interested in being in London and thus, you find me here this Season.”