by Quinn, Ella
She stared into her sister’s militant eyes for the longest time. In the background, the door opened and closed. Was Euphrosyne right? After all, the family did not need Laia to marry for money or position. Father wanted something, but it was not vital to the happiness of the rest. And Bolton had shown no interest in her at all. Could she wed where she loved? Would Mr. Paulet even ask her?
Laia took her sister’s hands and gently squeezed them. “You must follow your own road, as I shall follow mine.” She gave Euphrosyne a rueful smile. “Wherever that leads me.”
Chapter 11
Guy arrived at the house Hawksworth had rented shortly after ten o’clock the next morning. When he followed the butler into the breakfast room, Meg had just poured a cup of tea and was reading a newssheet. Hawksworth was doing the same.
Oh, for domestic tranquility. Guy could easily imagine this exact vignette with Laia and himself.
“Mr. Paulet,” their butler intoned.
“I wondered who was disturbing our peace.” Damon put down his paper.
“I’m sorry to bother you this early, but I need help.”
“This is interesting.” Meg slowly lowered her newssheet. “Guy Paulet almost never needs help. Please, take a seat. Have you broken your fast?”
He should have known she would bring up his rejection of her aid for one of his charity projects. What was worse, she’d been correct. He should have accepted her help.
She poured him a cup of tea.
“No, I came straight over here.”
“Whatever it is can wait until you have sustenance. One always thinks better on a full stomach. If you do not believe me, ask my husband.”
Hawksworth filled a plate for Guy, and Meg pushed the toast toward him. After he’d finished half his food and another cup of tea, he said, “It’s Laia.”
One of Meg’s dark brows rose. “Laia?”
Drat and damn. This is what he got for calling her by her name in his head. “Lady Laia.”
“Too late for that.” Hawksworth leaned back in his chair and grinned. “Does this mean you have decided to marry her?”
Guy wanted to run a finger beneath his collar. “Yes.”
“Excellent,” his friend said. “How do you plan to go about courting her?”
“That is not the complicated part.” He was tempted to rake his fingers through his hair in frustration. “First I have to convince her that she is not going to marry my blasted uncle.”
“That might not be as difficult as you believe.” Meg’s eyes had a sly look. “I have a plan to do just that.”
Now what was she up to? “If you are thinking of bringing Lady Engle into this, please reconsider. I’ve given it much thought. The problem is that she has no direct proof.”
Apparently undaunted, Meg continued, “I had tea with her the other day, and there is one piece of information she had not previously divulged. Bolton planned to divorce Sophia. He had two men who would swear to having conjugal relations with her. Her illness began after she refused to cooperate with a divorce.”
Guy shook his head. “It’s not enough.”
“For the Lords, probably not. But to convince Laia”—Meg’s brows rose again—“it will be sufficient.”
If he could have thought of another way to turn Laia away from marriage with his uncle, Guy would have taken it, unfortunately, he could not. “Very well, then. We can try it. I want to be there.”
Meg’s smile reminded him strongly of a cat who’d caught its prey. He was glad she was on his side. “I suggest you make the most of tomorrow night’s illumination.”
“My lord, my lady.” The butler entered the breakfast room. “Lady Aglaia to see her ladyship.”
“Meg”—Laia stood in the door as if frozen, her gaze on Guy—“Forgive me. I did not know you had company.”
He took in her worried expression and wanted to go to her, hold her in his arms. “I was just leaving.”
“No.” A dull red colored her cheeks. “I mean . . .” She stammered to a halt, but her eyes never left his.
Before he knew it, he had risen and started toward her. Hawksworth coughed, stopping Guy, but his and Laia’s gazes held for a few seconds longer.
“Show Lady Laia to my parlor,” Meg instructed. “I shall join you in a few moments.”
“Yes, my lady.”
After the butler left with Laia, Meg stood and shook out her skirts. “There is no time like the present.”
Hawksworth poured Guy another cup of tea. “You might as well remain. I doubt this will take long.”
Guy wouldn’t have left in any event. If he had his choice, he’d never leave Laia.
Laia paced Meg’s small parlor waiting for her sister-in-law to appear. Fortunately, she did not have to wait long.
The door opened and Meg glided in, her sharp blue gaze on Laia. “I take it you would like to discuss something with me?”
Taking a breath, Laia nodded. Earlier, she had thought she had fallen in love with Mr. Paulet. After seeing him again, she was certain she had. “I have come to a decision.”
Meg sank onto the loveseat and motioned to the chair next to it. “Please, have a seat. Shall I ring for tea, or have you had your fill?”
Mama always said tea helped any crisis, and this was definitely a huge one. “Tea would be wonderful.”
Not able to pace, Laia fidgeted as she never had before. The fringe on her shawl seemed to fascinate her as did the pearl ring on her right hand. Finally, the tea tray arrived, and Meg poured.
Once the door closed behind the servant, Meg said, “Now then, how can I help you?”
Laia turned her cup in the saucer, before taking a quick drink and setting the cup back down. “I do not wish to marry Bolton.”
“Because you are in love with Guy Paulet?”
She wasn’t sure she was ready to tell anyone of her feelings, but this was Meg, and Laia knew her sister-in-law would never betray her trust. “That is one reason.” She took another sip of tea. “The other is that Bolton has shown no interest in me.”
Meg poured them both another cup of tea. “Mr. Paulet aside, I think you are making a wise decision. It has come to my attention that Bolton wished to divorce his last duchess when she did not become pregnant. When she refused, she began to sicken and eventually died.” Meg’s lips firmed for a moment. “I think the reason he has no children is due to his inability to procreate. Neither Damon nor I wish you to be his next victim.”
Suddenly, what Mr. Paulet had said made sense. “Will Damon tell Father?”
Her sister-in-law shrugged. “Most likely. Yet, although I hate saying it, I am not sure it will matter. Damon has discovered that Bolton has a property your father wants.”
Sarah was right as well. Rage welled up in Laia as it never had before, and her hands began to shake. “So I am to be traded for land to a man who might be a murderer?”
“Not if I have anything to say about it.” Meg’s calm, steady voice soothed Laia’s nerves. “And I believe I shall have a great deal to say.” She rose from the loveseat. “Now, I am almost certain there is a gentleman who would very much like to see you.”
Laia stood as well. “What will you do?”
“Damon and I shall discuss the matter. We will let you know what we decide.” Her sister-in-law started toward the door then stopped. “He received a copy of the settlement agreements from your father’s solicitor.”
“That’s how he knew about the property.” Of course it was. He would have read the contracts before giving them to her.
“Indeed.” Meg opened the door. “Shall I tell Guy to come to you?”
“Yes.” Laia nodded. “Yes, please.”
Seconds after she closed the door, it opened again. Mr. Paulet strode in and gathered her into his arms. “I hope you don’t mind, but I have an urgent need to kiss you.”
Before she could acquiesce, his lips met hers. He swept his tongue into her open mouth. Oh, my! Who knew a kiss could be like this? Laia touched h
er tongue to his, and he made a growling sound and pulled her tighter against him. She threw her arms around his neck.
He slanted his mouth, deepening the kiss, and Laia couldn’t help but moan with pleasure. She could happily remain here all day, and longer. One of his hands slipped to her derrière. She should protest, but his caresses burned though the muslin and linen, making her bottom and nether parts tingle.
Then he broke the kiss. He touched his forehead to hers. “Forgive me.”
“No. I wanted you to kiss me.” Laia cupped his cheek, pressing her lips to his.
“I’m not making myself clear.” His lips broadened into a smile. “I do not want forgiveness for kissing you, but for doing it before I declared myself.”
“Mr. Paulet—” He touched his fingers to her mouth.
“Guy. You may call me Mr. Paulet when we are in public, but please call me Guy in private.”
She had always had a fondness for the name Guy, and she was glad it was attached to a gentleman she loved. “Then you must call me Laia.”
“In my mind, I have called you Laia since shortly after we met.” Her face heated again, and she stared into his molten silver eyes. “It took me a while longer to figure out I loved you.”
She felt as if she were standing on a cloud. To think that she had found a man who loved her as she loved him. It was almost too good to be true. “You said you had something to say to me?”
“Come, let us talk.” He led her to the loveseat. Once they were settled next to each other, he put his arm around her. She leaned her head against his shoulder. “I should be down on one knee, but then I couldn’t hold you. Laia, I would like more than anything in the world to marry you. Will you have me?”
“Yes.” She said the word without thinking, ignoring the consequences. “I would love to be your wife.” She turned her head and Guy kissed her again. “How will we manage it?”
He let out a sigh. “I’m not sure. I only know that we will. No one will take you away from me.”
“That is how I feel as well.” She snuggled closer to him, praying that they could marry.
“When shall we have the wedding?” Guy nuzzled her hair and kissed her again. “Do you wish for a large wedding breakfast?”
Impossible man. Laia grinned to herself. “Here am I worried that something will stop us and you simply want a date.”
“If the army taught me anything, it was to have a battle plan.”
“And am I a battle to be won?” she asked in a flirtatious tone.
Yet his eyes didn’t twinkle with pleasure. They turned hard and serious. “I expect someone, either your father or my uncle, possibly both of them, will try to stop us.”
Laia bit down on her lower lip. Father had attempted to stop her brothers. “Let us marry on my birthday.”
Guy seemed to relax a little. “We will require a settlement agreement of some sort. To protect you and our children.”
Whatever her dowry had been, she doubted she would receive it. “I might come to you a pauper.”
“If you do”—he shrugged—“I have wealth enough for both of us.”
“I would like to see the property that was so important my father would ignore the talk about Bolton.” She had tried to be fair and think that perhaps her father had not known about the duke’s other wives, but she could not do it. Her father knew almost everything that occurred.
Guy lifted her onto his lap. “You are not the only one in your family to discover what Somerset is. It has nothing to do with you.”
Then why did she feel like her value as a person had been decreased? “No?”
“No.” Damon strolled into the room accompanied by Meg. “Our father cares only for the dukedom. That does not reflect on you, or me, or Frank and Quartus. It will not reflect on our other brothers and sisters. Your mother loves you enough that she wrote to Meg and told her what had happened.”
Her brother slid a look at Guy, and he lifted Laia off his lap. So much for cuddling with her new betrothed.
* * *
Kentwell strode into Bolton’s study. “Your Grace, I have news of Mr. Paulet.”
Bolton glanced up from the books he’d been working on. “And?”
“He has been seen in Bath in the company of the Marquis of Hawksworth and his family. Including Lady Aglaia.” His secretary cleared his throat. “Escorting Lady Aglaia to events and around Bath. Only in the company of her family, however.”
“Need I ask how you came by this information?” Kentwell might be only the youngest son of an earl, but his family was well connected.
“My mother via my aunt, who received a letter from my grandmother, who was in Bath taking the waters. She recognized him due to his resemblance to his late father.”
In other words, to Bolton himself. Although Kentwell, knowing how Bolton felt about his nephew, would never mention that.
Damn Paulet! Bolton had suspected he would somehow involve himself with Bolton’s betrothed. “Cancel my engagements. I shall travel to Bath as soon as possible.”
“Yes, your grace. I’ll send a messenger to the York.”
“And get that special license. As long as I’m there, I may as well get married.”
“Immediately, your grace.”
Bolton watched with satisfaction as his secretary dashed out of the study. The next time a seat in the Commons came open, he would have Kentwell stand for it. At least one of his seats would vote the way he wished.
For the moment, he must decide how to deal with his nephew and his betrothed. Nothing Kentwell had said indicated that an attachment was forming between the two. That Paulet was frequently found in Hawksworth’s company was not out of the ordinary. Still, Bolton always trusted his intuition, and it would be better to discover what, exactly, was going on.
He could not afford to lose Lady Aglaia. His chances of finding another suitable lady to marry were not good.
* * *
As it was, Bolton didn’t depart for Bath until the following morning. It irritated him that his tolerance for travel had diminished with his age, making it necessary to spend the night on the road and delay his arrival.
Kentwell had informed Bolton that an illumination was planned for the evening of his arrival, and Hawksworth and his sisters were likely to be present. That would give Bolton time to observe his betrothed and probably his nephew without them knowing he was present.
The next day he arrived at The York in Bath and gave instructions that no one was to know he was present. The illumination was held that evening in Sidney Gardens.
It took Bolton almost an hour to locate Guy Paulet’s party. He recognized Hawksworth first. With him was a woman Bolton assumed was Lady Hawksworth, and three ladies and three gentlemen. One of whom was his nephew. He watched the party until he became bored, but could see nothing wrong with Paulet’s behavior or that of the lady he squired.
A journey to Bath for nothing. He’d return in the morning via the property he was supposedly giving up for this bride.
Chapter 12
Tall structures—much like the ones in Vauxhall—lit with hundreds if not thousands of candles illuminated sections of Sidney Park. Lanterns were strung in other areas, and the bright lights left parts of the park even darker than they would usually seem. Orchestras played and people began to dance.
“I’ve never seen anything like this,” Laia marveled next to Guy.
“Next Season I’ll take you to Vauxhall. It is even grander, and you will be able to see the Catherine Wheel as well.” Since they had arrived, he’d kept propriety in mind and not shown her the love he was feeling. By this time, all of Bath would know about her betrothal to his uncle. They needed to limit any talk.
“I have heard of a Catherine Wheel. How wonderful it would be to see one.” She looked up at him, her face glowing with happiness. “Oh, Guy, I would so love to see London!”
“You will not only see it, but you will have an elegant townhouse in which to live when Parliament is in session. You
will also have the opportunity to host political parties.” He held his breath. She wanted to be politically active, but did she wish to be a political hostess?
“That is perfect. I will ask Meg the best way to go about it.” They had reached another of the towers, and she stopped to gaze at it while he let out the breath.
How had his life become so wonderful? His mother would say—Drat! How had Guy forgotten about his mother? He’d have to write her first thing in the morning. She would never forgive him if he married Laia and did not tell his mother first. They still had a few days, but he’d better send the letter by messenger. Having Laia in his life right now was fraught with difficulties, but they would all be worth it.
Their party strolled the gardens for another half hour or so. Then Hawksworth said, “Meg is getting tired. I’m afraid I will have to shorten our evening.
“I am ready to leave,” Laia said, even though Guy knew she wasn’t.
“I am as well,” her sister agreed.
Markham joined them as they made their way to Laura Place. What Guy wouldn’t give to be able to take Laia back to his house tonight.
Soon. At least he knew he’d be able to marry the woman he loved.
* * *
The next morning, he joined Laia and her brother as they drove to view the property Somerset wanted. The Duchess of Somerset took the opportunity to ride with them and visit her younger children.
Meg and the duchess were already seated in the coach when Guy assisted Laia up the stairs. Keeping his voice to a whisper, he asked, “Does your mother know about us?”
She shook her head. “At least I do not think she does. Yet it has occurred to me that she might not wish to know certain things.”
Knowing Somerset’s reputation, that would be wise. He wanted to kiss her again, but that had not been possible since the first time. “I’ll see you when we arrive.”
