A Lady To Redeem A Rakish Lord (Historical Regency Romance)

by Lucinda Nelson

  I bought her the finest of everything. It was a mistake to have taken her to the Cardinals ball late last year where she saw him for the first time. While I tended to talks with potential business partners, she conversed with the Viscount and fell for his charms.

  He bedded her. Being branded a fallen woman, Abigail’s reputation was ruined and out of shame, she was taken to Germany never to return.”

  Benjamin was surprised. He wondered how many other men were reduced to cuckholds as Luke had been.

  “For this reason, I will take pleasure in helping you take away the woman he loves. That bastard will get what is coming to him.”

  Benjamin smiled understanding the hardship his ally had gone through. Even though he did not care about a woman’s chastity, having been with other women before, he was sympathetic to Luke’s story. And Luke was willing to help him in his scheme.

  “You must have known Lady Abigail Sherriton, did you not?”

  Benjamin searched through his mind. “I am afraid not, dear friend. My friend has slept with many women and I am afraid, he does not tell me their names nor does he keep their records. However, I understand your sorrow and your quest for justice. Men like Christopher think they can take as much as they want but together, we can teach him a lesson which he will never forget.”

  Saying this, they lifted their cups, cheered and gulped down their drinks.

  * * *

  Christopher Crampton, Viscount Barrington

  The next morning, Christopher attended a horse racing event in the London uptown area. He had forwarded a letter to his friend, inviting him to join him, but Benjamin had turned the invitation down. He had been thinking that something was off with his friend as of late, but he could not understand what it could be.

  Since the Christmas dinner, he had yet to see Rebecca. She reduced her weekly visits to the estates, opting to spend more time with her husband. He had hoped to talk to her about his uneasy thoughts concerning Benjamin. But then again, she had never trusted Benjamin and could blow things out of proportion.

  Or maybe he was already blowing things out of proportion. Just because he spent some time with Miss Campbell alone at the dinner and did not immediately remember meeting her at the fair were not enough reasons to start doubting his friend. Or were they?

  Now that the Earl of Barrington was on his feet, he could attend to more duties while Christopher handled more of the social events such as the one he had been invited to.

  Many men all over London brought their prized horses for the competition. It was also a good place for breeders to scout the best horses. They were willing to pay a hefty sum of money to breed the best performing horses.

  The tent under which Christopher sat was one out of about hundred tenths on the field. Men of noble births sat next to him in their heavy coats, while others smoked cigars. There were a number of upper class, middle class, and a few lower class men who brought their horses for the competition. The jockeys could be seen watching the race and preparing for their own upcoming race. One set had just finished their competition when another set filed in. Each man on their horses as they trotted to the center of the field.

  Christopher was looking around at the crowd of men near the horses when he recognized one of the men as Mr. Charles Doodleton, and immediately colored. Thankfully, he was looking the other way and had not seen him.

  He needed to form a plan that would allow him to befriend Mr. Doodleton, or his chances with Miss Campbell would greatly diminish. He did this by placing all his bets on the Doodleton’s horse but at the end of the competition, the horse did not perform as expected and he lost.

  An hour later, when they drew closer to the end of the event, Christopher searched for him and found him brushing the back of the horse behind a tree close to the event.

  “Hello, Mr. Doodleton, it is good to see you again,” he said.

  The young man turned to look behind him abruptly but then his look of surprise turned into that of suspicion.

  “My Lord,” he said, taking a bow. “I was wondering who must have put such a huge bet on myself and Doodleton,” he said, referring to his horse. “My condolences on your lost. However, I must inform you that I did not come here to compete. We only came here to have a good time.”

  Christopher smiled. “No apologies needed, I assure you. I enjoyed the show. It is interesting that you named your horse after yourself.”

  “Yes, we are close,” he replied and continued brushing the horse’s body.

  “So, how is everyone? Mrs. Campbell…and your cousin?” Christopher purposely hesitated on the last two words.

  “They are alright,” replied the young man with a languid interest.

  “Might I invite you to a hunting party at my estates, this weekend?”

  Finally, Charles paused his brush strokes and looked at him. His frown deepened and his lips curved, “I’m afraid I must decline, my Lord.”

  Christopher raised his brow. “I insist, please. Think of it as a way to get to know me more and to be friends. Besides, you can bring anyone you want, including Miss Campbell, but for that I might have to send some formal cards.”

  The young man threw him a quizzical glare but then nodded. “Alright.”

  “Good. So long, Mr. Doodleton. See you soon,” Christopher said before walking to his awaiting carriage, making an effort not to look back at the man who was staring at him.

  * * *

  Miss Ophelia Campbell

  Ophelia sat in front of the mirror, busily brushing her hair. While she did this, she pictured Christopher telling her how beautiful her hair was. Each time she thought of that, she smiled.

  She could picture him brushing his hand over her long black hair. She wondered how that would feel, to have him so close.

  Still, could he be thinking about her as she had been thinking about him for the past several days? She needed to stop doing this. She had promised Emily to be careful. She tried to picture her mother sitting to knit. All at once, the emotion that was building up in her seemed to be melting.

  Her imagination was interrupted by a knock on the door.

  “Yes, please, come in,” she groaned.

  The door opened and her mother stepped in.

  “Thank God, mother. Would you be kind enough to help brush my hair?” she asked, handing her mother the hair brush but the look on her mother’s face made her frown.

  “Is everything alright?” she asked.

  “Sit child, we need to talk,” said her mother, sitting on the bed.

  Ophelia dropped the brush on the mirror stand to pay attention to her mother. She also noticed there was a card in her hand.

  “This is an invitation from the Cramptons to a hunting party,” explained her mother.

  When Ophelia heard that, her heart skipped a beat. She found herself smiling. She was now assured that Christopher had been thinking about her.

  “Wipe that smile off your face, daughter for this is the reason why I need to talk to you.”

  Ophelia inhaled. “I am listening, mother.”

  “I understand that you care for Lord Crampton and it appears as if he might care for you. However, just as I have said earlier, we need to be careful.

  Do not get your heart too involved for future sake. We still do not know where this is headed. I believe that if he is serious about you. He should have shown that.

  Do not give in to too many advances from him as this will only drive away other potential suitors from you. If he is interested in marrying you, he should have done the right thing by now and asked your father permission to court you.”

  Ophelia’s emotions were dampened by the things her mother had just stated. She knew her mother was right.

  “Alright, mother. I shall not dwell upon it so much,” she said, not seeing much in herself.

  “Thank you,” said her mother, dropping the card on the table before leaving.

  Chapter 17

  Christopher Crampton, Viscount Barrington

&nbs
p; “What is this that I am hearing about a hunting party?”

  Christopher looked up as his mother entered the room. He had just taken his bath and was preparing to go out.

  “Yes, mother. It has been a while since we had one. Ever since father had fallen ill, there has not been a hunting party and I thought we could hold one on New Year’s eve. In the morning, of course,” he replied, tying his cravat in the mirror. “Then afterwards, we can all come back to the house to change for the dinner party.

  “Just because your father is up on his feet does not mean you get to waste a lot of time on social activities, son. What is wrong with you? First, a hunting party and now a New year’s eve party? Why can you not just stick to one?”

  Christopher sighed and walked to his mother putting both hands around her shoulders.

  Just as he was about to talk, a knock sounded on the door and he went to open it. It was a servant hold a letter.

  “My Lord, Lady Elizabeth Clarkson’s maid brought a letter for you,” said the servant.

  Christopher took a sharp breath and collected the letter from the servant.

  “Who is Lady Elizabeth? Is she not the daughter of Lord Clarkson, your father’s friend?”

  “Yes, mother. She is the one,” Christopher confessed. They had met some time ago. She had been traveling for several months and had promised to let him know when she returned.

  His mother shook her head and sat on the bed. “Is it because of her that you are throwing a hunting party?”

  “Of course not,” he said sharply, tossing the letter into the fireplace in the room.

  His mother was looked shocked as the envelope burned in the fire. “So what are you doing this for? I am certain that it is for a reason, is it not? I am tired of your reckless attitude son. When are you going to get serious with your life?”

  “You are supposed to be the man of the house when your father retires but all you do is break hearts everywhere, gamble and drink! How ill you make me feel!”

  Christopher was shocked to hear that his mother knew of his rakish behavior and reputation of frequenting the gambling hell. He felt guilt wrap around his heart and remained quite as his mother stared at him with a crossed look.

  Then Christopher walked to her and held her hands. He knew his mother was right. She had heard all the atrocities he had committed while she was preoccupied caring for his father. He looked at her with a sorrowful expression.

  “I need you to be serious, for once in your life Christopher Adams Crampton!”

  Christopher inhaled. His mother only call him by his full name whenever she was greatly displeased.

  “It is for that very reason, mother that I am being serious. Trust me when I say that I have seen the error of my ways and am now trying desperately to rectify my past mistakes. I just need you to trust me and have faith. I am genuinely interested in being serious and I promise to not let you down, mother.”

  His mother was a bit calmer now. “So, who are you doing this hunting party for?”

  “It is for someone who is very special and who you will get to meet very soon. I promise you, mother, this is no trick. I am being serious.”

  “Well, I hope she is worth it,” she said before another knock sounded. “I wonder who this is now,” said the Countess. Christopher made his way to the door, but it opened to reveal another servant.

  “My lord,” said his servant. “There is another letter for you.”

  Christopher accepted it and then shut the door quickly. This time, the letter was addressed from the Campbells, which he had been waiting for.

  “Now, might I ask which other lady has sent you a letter? You more joyful at receiving this one,” the Countess said with a quizzical yet amused look.

  Christopher tried to regain a straight expression until his mother walked out of the room. “I hope you know what you are doing, son.”

  Christopher said nothing until his mother was out of the room. Quickly, he tore open the letter and went through. Relief washed over him as Mrs. Campbell had written that her daughter, along with her cousin would be coming to the hunting party.

  Great! All that was needed was for him to get his hunting attire! He rushed out of his room only to nearly bumped into Rebecca who was on her way to his room.

  “Oh! Sweet sister! It is good you are here,” he said, kissing her on the cheek.

  “Rebecca smiled and hugged her brother. “A hunting party? Whatever came over you, brother?”

  Christopher smiled as they climbed downstairs together. “I think you know what has come over me. I am curious as to how you got to know for I was just on my way to tell you about it.”

  “Ophelia sent me a letter,” Rebecca explained. “She wrote about the hunting party and I was surprised. You have not even told me anything about your relationship with her.”

  “Forgive me, sister. I have been busy and you have not been around. Truthfully, I thought you did not wish to speak to me since the Christmas dinner.”

  He continued to explain to her his sister about how he had been reflecting on his poor behavior and how it affected his relationship with Ophelia as they walked downstairs. He purposefully neglected to tell her his thoughts on Benjamin, wanting to wait until another time to speak on it.

  Christopher saw his father sitting in the gathering room while the physician attended to him. His mother sat in a chair adjacent to his father.

  “Is it true you are having a hunting party, son?” asked his father.

  Christopher knew his mother had told his father so there was no use in hiding any further information.

  “Yes, father.”

  “I am hardly back on my feet and all you think of doing is to dabble into social events, son?” said his father, his tone showed his disappointment.

  “My Lord, if I may speak? said the physician.

  “Of course,” said the Earl. “You may speak.”

  “I daresay the hunting party will be most beneficial to your health,” said the physician.

  Christopher was glad to see the look of surprise on his parent’s face. “Well, that settles it,” he said hurriedly, shaking hands with the physician. “Thank you very much, sir. I hope we shall be seeing you as well upon my next visit.”

  After this, Christopher left the estates with more courage and determination. His plan was to pick Benjamin up so they could get their attire at the tailor together.

  * * *

  Lord Benjamin Gibbs, the Baron of Salsbury

  “So, you think this hunting party will erase every doubt her cousin may have towards you,” he asked after listening to Christopher’s explanations. They were at the tailor’s shop and Christopher was still getting measured.

  “Yes, I think so. I need him to trust me, Benjamin. You can also learn one or more things from me,” Christopher said, smiling as he turned around to get measured.

  Benjamin faked a smile. Christopher had no idea he was talking into the hands of his competitor.

  “So, when do you desire to make your intentions known to Miss. Campbell?” he asked.

  “Possibly tomorrow, before the hunting party, I hope,” he replied.

  “That will be all, my Lord,” said the tailor. Benjamin came next to get measured while Christopher returned to his seat.

  “I plan to set the ground ahead to keep her anticipating for when we finally meet.”

  When Benjamin heard this, he began to form his own plans. If Christopher would write a letter to her at the time, he could also get his own letter across to her.

  They were done at the tailor’s shop and were soon leaving in a carriage. Benjamin decided to test his member in regards to what Luke had told him.

  “Do you remember Lady Abigail Sherriton?” he asked.

  Christopher looked up from the paper he was reading. Benjamin watched his facial expression closely.

  “Abigail Sherryton? Is the name supposed to ring a bell?” he asked with a lack of interest.

  “Do you remember the Cardinal’s Ba
ll?” Benjamin probed him further.

  Christopher gave him a quizzical stare. “That was many months ago…” then he raised his brows. “You mean the lady that was all over me?”

  “Yes, we never spoke about the lady. What became of her?” Benjamin crossed his legs.

  “Well, I was drunk, remember? And you had to wake me up the next day in the inn,” he said, looking as though he was trying to remember something. “Do you not remember we had to lodge?”