Lady Mary Contrary: Regency Ever After book 2
Page 2
“You!” she repeated. “You dare come here?”
Her enchanting blue eyes and gleaming black hair were a trick of the light. She was far from an angel. Most thought him an affable fellow, unless they asked his mother. But Mary either hated him or she was his dearest confidante. Never in between.
Blake doffed his hat and bowed. “Lady Mary, how ravishing you look. Might you accept my arm, and the two of us can experience a romantic stroll through the trees?”
Her eyes narrowed, shooting sparks his way.
“I’m jesting, Mary. Come on.”
“Lady Mary.”
Blake shook his head and grinned. “I meant no disrespect. You’re simply too easy to tease when you’re angry with me.” In truth, Mary scared him when she was angry. It was all he could do to try to change her mood. “Let us begin anew. How did you spend the last month?”
Mary’s eyes seemed to glower even more. Her month could not have been as horrible as his.
“Was it lonely without your mother and brothers?”
Mary turned away from him and folded her arms across her chest. “You may go now. You are not welcome here.”
Blake stretched his back and arms while she was turned away. Their crowded carriage ride from Rosewood Park still haunted him. “Listen, you were angry with me when we all left London for Rosewood Park. I can’t explain it for the life of me. Perhaps you can spare me the guessing game and just tell me, so I might apologize.”
Mary stood there with her back to him, not backing down an inch. She reminded him of Mary’s older sister, Jillian. But even more so, she reminded him of their Irish grandmother—a widow as stubborn as a mule and as fiery as a blazing hot furnace. Thankfully, that trait only fell to the women in the family and spared his best friends.
“Don’t you even want to hear about our trip?” What he wanted to do was vent to Mary about his mother. He remembered many hours spent talking in the past, but now that they were grown up, everything felt so different.
“I already heard about the trip from my brothers. You and Anton lost and Terrance won. And you shan’t have any sympathy from me.” Mary turned slowly in his direction. Her face was still guarded, but at least she was speaking to him. “And it isn’t proper for you to be out here when I am, and I was here first.”
Blake clenched his jaw. “Very well, you stay here, and I will walk in the other direction.” He gave her a flourishing bow and stalked off toward the house. Where could he go where he wasn’t looked at as a hindrance to the world?
“Gunther!” Anton called, crossing the yard toward him with a dog prancing around him for attention. “Didn’t we just get rid of you?”
Blake pushed his jacket back and rested a hand on his hip. He couldn’t even take a little barb. He was feeling just a tiny bit sensitive. “It looks as if you should suffer my company forever.”
“Your mother again?”
“Who else?”
“My sister tends to give your mother a run, doesn’t she?” He motioned his head toward Mary’s form now disappearing into the distant trees.
Blake hated to agree with him. “I could pass around a petition against myself and I should think the entire community would sign it. I don’t know why you tolerate my company at all.”
“I don’t,” Anton joked. “But I prefer you to my brother just now.”
Blake looked at the weary face of his friend and cringed. “You are taking the jilting of Miss Bliss harder than I.”
“I do not think you imagined yourself marrying her.”
Blake raised a brow. “No, no I did not. I certainly had my head turned, but I’m not the settling down type. I’m just not ready.” He thought of his mother’s threats and shivered. He could marry and lose his freedom or not marry and lose his freedom. Either way, he was doomed.
“Yes, it is fortunate your father is alive and you have no reason to be settled.”
Blake grimaced. Anton had it much worse than he. “We have been over this time and time again. You attract the wrong sort when you are desperate. Take your time. Things will come when they should.”
If only Blake had such a luxury! He could not impose on Anton and his family for the duration of the summer. Especially with Anton depressed, Mary despising him, and Terrance gloating over winning the hand of the prettiest girl in all of England. No, he needed money to leave when he wished. And even though he’d been home for less than half an hour, he felt stifled already.
Chapter 3
Mary found Terrance in his room, no doubt penning a letter to Miss Bliss. She knocked on the open door to capture his attention. He peered over his shoulder at her and raised his eyebrows expectantly.
“Are you terribly busy? I just need a minute.” Terrance had always been her closest sibling.
Terrance turned in his seat and stretched out his long legs. “I will be generous and give you two minutes. What is it?”
Mary stepped into the room and pulled the door shut behind her.
“Ah? Something secret then?”
Mary sighed. “I need your help.”
“Let me guess? Gunther?”
Mary met his eyes. “How did you know?”
“Everyone knows you care for him, Mary. You would have to be blind, deaf, and live in a hole in the ground to miss it. You don’t exactly hide your feelings very well.”
Mary squirmed. “I cannot be that bad.”
“Worse,” Terrance said.
She sighed. “Well then help me fix this. You won over Miss Bliss when no one else could. Help me.”
“How? You want me to shoot Gunther in the foot so he won’t keep coming here? Or do you want me to tie him up and force him to ask for your hand in marriage?”
Mary scrunched up her nose. “Neither will do. If he cannot fix this himself, then he needs a slice of humble pie. I am quite vexed with him.”
“You are always angry with Gunther.”
Mary swallowed back her emotions. “I know. What can be done, Terry?”
Terrance leaned forward over his knees and clasped his hands together, his hazel eyes considering her question. “You need to decide if you want things to work out or not.”
“After everything, how could I want them to work out?”
“Can you never forgive him?”
Mary shook her head. “Never.”
“Then could you learn to live without him?”
A tear escaped. “Never.”
Terrance groaned. “Mary Contrary, here we go again.”
“Stop! I hate that nickname!”
“Listen. I want you to be happy. Blake Gunther is my best friend. But is he capable of being everything you deserve?”
Mary wiped at her eyes. “Can I figure it out later? I require a small favor first.”
“Depends on the favor.”
“Might you invite over a handsome bachelor friend for dinner? With Blake in attendance, of course.”
“Mr. Gunther,” Terrance corrected.
Mary rolled her eyes. “Fine. Mr. Gunther.”
Terrance studied her for a moment. “I’ll do it, but it will be up to you to do the rest.”
His agreement melted her frown. “I will. I love you, Terry.”
Terrance turned back to face his letter. “Just don’t be too free with your affection. The rest of your life depends upon it.”
Mary gave him an offended glare. “I am not a strumpet. You can trust that.”
“I’m simply cautioning you from loving the first person who offers for you just because he isn’t Gunther. I want you to marry a man who deserves you.” He pinned her with a very sincere look.
Mary pulled the door open, wishing Gunther could deserve her, or even desire to deserve her. “I’ll do my very best.”
***
“Lord Templeton, might I introduce my daughter?” Mother asked, directing him to Mary. “This is Lady Mary, my youngest.”
Lord Templeton could not have been more distinguished. He bore a double-knotted cravat, and hi
s pin-striped gray waistcoat and black dinner jacket only enhanced his dark features. Long eyelashes accentuated his deep brown eyes and his dark curls were styled in a trim, Roman cut.
He took Mary’s hand and bowed over it. “There is not a soul in the neighborhood I’ve met who has not boasted about the charms of the new Banbury Castle. I see it is you they were speaking of, not the house.”
A pleasant warmth spread through her. Terrance had outdone himself with this man. He was everything—rich, titled, handsome, and even appeared to be sincere.
“You are too generous in your compliments. When you see more of Banbury Castle, you will see the neighborhood was right.” Mary wanted to say something witty, but she was too busy admiring how perfect Lord Templeton would be in his role as a suitor. That is, perfect enough to drive Blake mad.
Thinking of Blake seemed to prompt his arrival. He strode into the room and kissed Mary’s mother on the cheek like one of her sons. He turned to take Mary’s hand and froze. His eyes landed on Lord Templeton, standing very near her, and his eyes narrowed.
“I seem to be in need of an introduction,” Blake said, almost caustically.
“This is Lord Templeton,” Terrance offered. “He’s purchased the Newcliff estate as a summer house.”
“Newcliff?” It seemed Blake didn’t even know it was for sale.
Anton stepped in beside him. “When Mr. Pierce died, his son felt a more fashionable house elsewhere would suit him better. I daresay, Lord Templeton was the smarter of the two. Newcliff is a jewel.”
“I agree,” Lord Templeton said. “Except it is a little too quiet for my liking. But when I marry and have a family to fill the walls, I think it should be everything I hope it to be.”
“Marry?” Blake asked. “Have you a bride in mind?”
Lord Templeton looked at Mary. “Not yet.”
Blake audibly cleared his throat. “Is dinner late?”
The countess put her hand on Blake’s shoulder. “Dinner is exactly on time.”
There was nothing more pleasing for Mary than striding to dinner with her hand on Lord Templeton’s arm, with Blake following behind. She giggled, although from Lord Templeton’s quick wit or from the pleasure in her circumstances, Mary could not quite say why.
Chapter 4
Blake’s relationship with the Crawford family was unique at best. Not even his mother could complain about the connection, which helped because he preferred dining at Banbury Castle to his own home. It was not unusual to arrive and find the countess had invited other guests. The staff watched for Blake and always set out another place setting for him without bothering to check with the family. Life was predictable in the summers, with the absence of the late Lord Crawford as the only real stark difference in Blake’s memory.
Tonight, however, felt different.
Lord Templeton was completely to blame.
Blake observed the way Terrance and even Anton looked to their guest as if he was their superior. What was he? A baron? Anton was an earl for heaven’s sake. Blake was a nobody, but that was beside the point.
“We needn’t continue to discuss my dreams for Newcliff. I’d hate to bore you on our first evening in company,” Lord Templeton said.
“Nonsense,” Anton said. “I find your ideas for making your estate more efficient quite fascinating. Is the house staff to your liking? I can’t imagine running the staff without a woman’s good opinion.”
“My judgments are new and perhaps need time to refine. I fear my new butler has an aversion to me. He sneezed on me twice on my way out the door tonight and once yesterday. I’m not sure what to make of it.”
The countess laughed. “You are jesting.”
“I wish I was. When I return tonight, I am going to hold a handkerchief out as I pass him. It’ll save me an unfortunate shower from his nose and him the need to apologize.”
“Stop,” Mary laughed. “It’s too much.” Mary was not a demure debutante. When she laughed, it was real. Not too boisterous but thick and rich.
Blake liked to think he was the only one to illicit such laughter—apparently not.
“I daresay, next you will tell us your housekeeper is afraid of you and hides in the cellar,” Mary said, leaning toward her guest.
“You have it wrong. It is I who am afraid of her. You think I came here because of your generous invitation, but really I am fleeing a house and staff I have yet to accustom myself to.”
“You are welcome here anytime,” Lady Crawford said. “My son, Mr. Hadley, is to leave in a few short weeks to his estate in Shropshire to prepare for his new bride. But Lord Crawford and I will gladly keep you company.”
“Thank you, your ladyship.” Then Lord Templeton turned to Terrance. “Congratulations. I had not heard there were wedding bells in your future.”
“The news is as recent as your arrival in the neighborhood.” Terrance’s smile was one of unabashed happiness. “I consider myself a fortunate man.”
Anton’s grin fled, and he busied himself with his meal, causing Blake to sigh. He did not value bachelorhood as Blake did, and was clearly still hurting. Why would someone want to marry if it meant a life like his mother’s and father’s? The idea seemed quite ludicrous to him.
Lord Templeton managed to regale his small audience with stories through dinner and back in the drawing room. His expressions were a mite serious, but he had wit and charm in spades. This was the kind of man Blake might respect, but a different feeling seemed to cramp altogether inside him. He could not define it.
“You’re so very wise, Lord Templeton,” Mary said, her eyes glued on his.
Blake wanted to gag. Mary had her head turned, and it was almost comical. But it wouldn’t last. Mary never cared for another man for long. Her heart was as contrary as she was. Sure, she would express interest, but more as a challenge than anything real. Blake looked closer. This might be different. There was no doubt she was mesmerized by Lord Templeton.
“Any word from Jillian?” Blake asked the countess when her attention seemed to wander from their guest. He needed to stop watching Mary or he’d vomit.
“You know how stubborn my daughter can be,” her ladyship said with a sigh. “I am so worried about her and that baby.”
Blake agreed. He’d only seen Jillian for a moment on their way home from Rosewood Park, but never had she looked so weak. “I am sure she is commanding everyone to take care of her, and we have no need to fret.”
“I am considering returning to offer my help, but I do hate to intrude.”
“I don’t think that is possible, my lady. You are the least intrusive person I know.”
“Thank you, Blake.”
Mary suddenly turned to them. “Why would anyone thank him?”
“Mary!” Her mother hushed her. The countess eyed Lord Templeton as if to remind her daughter to mind her manners.
It seemed Lady Crawford hoped Mary would make a good impression on Lord Templeton. Was there some matchmaking going on behind the scenes that he was unaware of?
“I was simply asking after your sister, Lady Mary,” Blake said, remembering to address Mary in the proper way. He did try when in company. He was not a complete dolt.
“Oh,” Mary said, straightening her posture. “How very kind of you.” Then she shifted in her seat to give Lord Templeton her full attention again.
Blake had had enough of her giggles for one night. When dinner ended, he stood and bade everyone goodnight. He needed to come up with a plan for himself, and sitting in the drawing room watching Mary and Lord Templeton was not a scenario to produce quality thought. It meant he would have to return home. To his mother. Perhaps it was time to gather a list of available women in the area. Time for him to consider finding a wife.
Mary giggled again.
He looked back, and a light flickered on in his mind. Mary?
No. She was far above him in beauty and position. Things had not gone so well with the last woman he’d tried to woo, and Mary currently hated him. H
owever, he did know everything there was to know about Mary, and living with her would be vastly better than a life tied to his mother. And he might be doing Mary a favor. Something about Lord Templeton bothered Blake. He was too perfect. Too eager. Mary deserved better than Blake, no doubt, but she didn’t deserve to suffer at the hands of a cad either. Blake could be the lesser evil.
Chapter 5
Mary tried reading, but her mind never grasped more than a few pages at a time. She finally dropped her book in her lap and stared at the back of the dingy armor in her tiny alcove. Why did everyone else get lost in stories, while Mary was always lost in her own head? Lord Templeton had been perfect last night; Blake, oddly quiet. Had her new guest made Blake jealous at all?
Then she circled back to Lord Templeton. Lord Tempting seemed more fitting. He was everything she wanted in a man: kind, serious, witty, appreciated by all. His position spoke for itself, and he had a house close to Banbury Castle. The situation could not be more ideal. Of course, if they were to ever marry, she would have to let go of the butler. Mary had no intention of being sneezed on every time she and her husband left the house. Laughing to herself, Mary sunk down in her seat, content to daydream a little longer.
A faint clicking of carriage wheels on their rocky drive caught her attention. Mary turned in her seat and pulled herself up to the window. Her breath caught. Her book fell off her lap as she flew from her seat and squeezed past the armor. Picking up her dress, she hurried down the stairs where Pearl anticipated her and opened the door.
A footman stepped to the carriage door and her nieces piled out.
“Opal! Claire! Gloria!” Mary opened her arms, and the three little girls fell into them. There was no greater joy than being an aunt, and Mary reveled in the responsibility. “What are you doing here?”
Their nursemaid, Hannah, stepped down from the carriage. She was a heavy-set, middle-aged woman with streaks of gray at her temples and distinctive wrinkle lines around her mouth. Everyone adored her, including Mary.