They stared at him.
“Oh!” Sarah said, her face clearing. “He wants to sow the last of his wild oats.”
“Bleedin’ ’ell,” Rachel crowed. “I don’t reckon ’e’s got none left!”
The three of them fell about laughing and Ludo sighed, unhooking Jenny’s arms from his neck.
“No, no. You’ve got it all wrong. Please, ladies. I need your help. I’d not ask otherwise. I’m getting married and the poor girl is getting a wretched bargain as it is, without… without bringing her back to… to this….” He gestured about him in despair. “I know I’m a devil for asking it of you, but please? Help me make it look a bit less….”
“Like a tomcat’s hideaway?” Jenny suggested, raising one eyebrow.
“Exactly,” Ludo replied, relieved.
Jenny tutted at him and folded her arms. “Not sure we ought to help him, girls, not if it means he’s going to be a proper husband and mend his ways.”
Rachel snorted. “When did gettin’ married ever stop a bloke from having his fun? Won’t change nothin’.”
Jenny studied Ludo for a long moment, and he felt a wave of heat burn up the back of his neck. “Nah. Ludo’s a good ’un,” she said softly. “If he says his vows, they’ll mean summat. Won’t they, love?”
Ludo nodded, something in his chest constricting at being read so easily, when he’d hardly dared acknowledge the truth himself.
“She a nice girl?” Jenny asked, smiling at him.
Ludo nodded. “Better than I deserve, Jen.”
“Ah, come on then, ladies. Roll your sleeves up. Let’s help the poor sod get his house in order.”
“Do we get summat for our trouble when it’s done, eh?” Sarah asked him, moving close enough to run her hand over his chest and down to more intimate areas.
Ludo caught hold of her wrist and raised her hand to his lips, kissing her fingers. “A generous purse and my undying gratitude, Sarah.”
The girl heaved a sigh and rolled her eyes. “Ah, well. As you like, handsome.”
By late afternoon, Ludo’s rooms had been thoroughly cleaned and aired, fresh sheets put on the bed, and an embarrassing number of empty bottles disposed of. Once the girls had gone, each of them in possession of a generous sum for their troubles, Ludo had headed out to buy a wedding ring. A simple gold band was all he could afford, but his hopes rose exponentially on seeing the ring tucked into its little red box. A new beginning, he promised himself. On the way back, he’d noticed a flower seller, her basket crammed full of Christmas roses. He made the girl’s day by buying the entire basketful. It would be an excellent way of brightening up his less than elegant abode and, besides which, the flowers made him think of Bunty.
Ludo stared down at the large bouquet in his hand and laughed as he walked home. This was his last night as a bachelor. No doubt he ought to be out drinking with his friends and making the most of his freedom. He couldn’t think of anything he wanted to do less. He had caroused and debauched his way through life since he was a very young man, and now that was done. Now he would have a wife, someone to come home to, someone who gave a damn if he came home.
She would give a damn, wouldn’t she?
Bunty was everything good in life. She was kind and brave and clever and… and she would give him a chance. He ran up the steps to the front door and let himself back into his rooms, feeling his heart sink to his boots as he realised no amount of cleaning and tidying would turn them into the kind of place Bunty would expect to live in—like a house in Mayfair.
Oh, God. She would hate him.
“Bunty, darling. I’ve been thinking. We were too hasty. You need not go through with it,” her father said.
Bunty looked around from her sentry position by the front window to see her parents standing side by side.
“What?” she asked, a little irritated to have her attention taken from watching the road.
Lord Courtenay—Ludo — should be here soon. They were to be married at two o’clock. Her father had arranged the special licence and the minister was seated in the back parlour with a cup of tea whilst he awaited the arrival of her bridegroom.
“I did a little investigating about Lord Courtenay at my club yesterday, and the reports are far from good. Worse than we had realised, even. Your mother and I have been talking and… oh, Bunty. My dear child, we cannot help but think that in such circumstances, ruination might be better than marriage to… to such a man.”
Bunty’s eyes grew wide as she realised her father was in earnest.
“But, Father, I should be shunned by polite society. What would I do? Where would I go?”
“We thought perhaps your Great-Aunt Hildebrand,” her mother said, her voice quavering. “She lives very quietly, no one there would know you, or would know about….”
She sobbed and buried her face in her handkerchief.
“You think I would be better served living with an old lady of eighty in the wilds of Cumbria than marrying Lord Courtenay?” Bunty replied, astonished and horrified.
“If it were any other man, my dear.” Her father’s eyes were filled with pity. “But Courtenay… Everyone knows he’s a bastard, for all his father was duped into acknowledging him. He was disowned by his family, and he’s raised hell at every opportunity since. He’ll likely squander your fortune and subject you to heaven alone knows what indignities. He has no money, no prospects. What can you hope to gain by marrying him?”
“But it’s all arranged,” Bunty protested. “You went and got the licence; you agreed the terms with him. You cannot change your mind now.”
“No,” her father said, his voice firm. “But you can, and no one would think less of you for not marrying such a man.”
Bunty stared at her father. She knew everything he’d said was likely true. It was impossible to deny the accusations against Ludo. The scandals were legion, his reputation blacker than pitch. Leopards don’t change their spots, whispered a little voice in her head.
Her breath caught as she heard the front door close and, a moment later, the butler announced him. Bunty’s heart thudded as Ludo appeared in the doorway. Oh, but he was magnificent. His powerful thighs were clad in buff breeches, the embroidered cream waistcoat and dark blue coat exquisitely cut, highlighting his impressive physique. Bunty could not draw a breath at all as he bowed low to them and then moved towards her, smiling with such warmth that she wanted to cry.
“Miss Bunting,” he said, a look in his eyes that was just for her as he lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. “How lovely you look. I am the most fortunate of men.”
Tears stung her eyes as she realised he was sincere. He truly thought her lovely.
“My lord.” Bunty jumped at the force of her father’s voice. “We have spoken with our daughter, and there has been a change of plan. There is something she would like to say to you.”
Ludo stiffened, looking from her father back to her. Bunty flushed, horrified and uncertain of what to say, until she saw the hurt in his eyes. It was only there for a moment before his expression was wiped clean. He stood tall and did not meet her gaze.
“Of course,” he said, with no inflection in his voice. “I quite understand. There is no need to distress yourself, Miss Bunting. I believe I know what you wish to say.”
He bowed, stiff and formal, and turned away from her.
Panic gripped Bunty at the terrible idea she might lose her chance to know this man better, to know more of the tender soul who had kissed her as if she was everything he’d ever wanted, who had told her she was lovely and actually meant it. She reached out and grasped his arm.
“Wait!”
He stilled utterly, but did not turn back to her.
“Is that it?” she said, hearing her voice trembling. “You’ve nothing to say, no argument to make?”
Slowly, he lifted his eyes to hers, and she was drowning in all that lovely blue.
“What can I say, Miss Bunting? I knew from the first it was too good to be tru
e. It was just a lovely daydream. Nothing more.”
He went to move away again, but she held on tighter.
“No. I do not release you from your promise. Either you marry me or… or I shall s-sue you for breach of promise.”
“Bunty!” exclaimed her father in horror as her mother shrieked and collapsed back onto the sofa.
Bunty ignored them both, her eyes fixed on Lord Courtenay, but his expression was unreadable.
“I do not release you,” she said again. “The minister is waiting for us.”
He moved closer to her and took both of her hands in his, though he did not meet her eyes as he spoke, looking down at his feet instead, as if ashamed.
“Your parents are right to warn you off. Everything they say is true, no doubt.”
“I know of your reputation,” she said quietly. “I know of all the stories in the scandal sheets, but is that all there is to you? Is there not more?”
He did not answer, still avoiding her eyes, but Bunty pressed on.
“Will you be cruel to me, my lord? Will you gamble away my money and spend it on other women? Will you leave me alone and destitute when it is gone?”
“What? No!” he exclaimed, his blue eyes flashing. “God, no. I would never… never…” His voice cracked and he snapped his jaw shut and simply shook his head, his eyes still burning with anger.
Bunty smiled at him, knowing her instincts had guided her right. “I would like to get married now, Ludo. If… If you still wish to marry me, that is?”
“If I wish to?” he repeated, looking astonished, and then he let out a harsh breath. “I should like that above all things, Miss Bunting.”
“Bunty,” she corrected him gently.
“Bunty,” he said, staring at her in such a way she blushed and looked away from him.
“Well,” she said, trying not to sound as if she was trembling all over. “Let us not keep the minister waiting any longer.”
Ludo was married. It was the most extraordinary thing. Any moment now he’d wake up. He waited on the front step for his wife to bid goodbye to her mama, who was weeping as if her only daughter was about to climb the steps at Tyburn. He could hardly blame the poor woman. If he ever had a daughter, and a bastard like him wanted to court her, he’d have the devil put on the first ship to New South Wales without a second thought. That he now had a wife, and might one day have a daughter too, hit him like a hammer blow. A family. He might have a family. Well, it was bound to happen, wasn’t it? Sooner or later, and he would have to provide for them.
At least he’d cleared all his debts, he assured himself, as a hot, panicky sensation rose in his chest. It wasn’t beyond the bounds of possibility that the business he’d begun would bring him a profit, too. His schoolmasters had not written him off, after all; they’d said he had a brain in his head. He’d done rather well, actually. Better than his brothers, not that it had done him the least bit of good. In fact, he thought his father—well, not his father, but his mother’s husband—had hated him all the more for that.
At last the tearful farewells were done and Bunty joined him, taking his arm as he led her to the hired carriage. Ludo ignored her father’s wrathful gaze as he guided the man’s daughter down the stairs and handed her inside. One day, he promised himself, one day he would provide her with a carriage and four perfectly matched horses, she would have the finest clothes, a house on Mayfair, and whatever else she desired. He’d sell his soul to the devil himself if he must, but one way or another he would give her the life she deserved for being so brave, so bloody mad as to give herself into his keeping.
Ludo climbed in after his bride and closed the carriage door. All at once silence reigned as the carriage rocked into motion. He dared a glance at her to see her staring resolutely straight ahead. God, the poor thing must be terrified. He only hoped she wasn’t already regretting her rash decision, for she’d not even seen where she would be living yet.
He gathered his courage and reached out to take her hand, relieved when she curled her fingers quite naturally about his.
“Lady Courtenay,” he said, a little stunned to realise such a creature existed.
She laughed, a soft breathy sound that made his heart skip about in his chest like a newborn lamb.
“That will take some getting used to,” she said.
“Why did you do it?” he asked, hardly daring to hear the answer.
Perhaps her father was a cruel tyrant who beat her, and he was her only means of escaping. It seemed the only rational explanation.
She bit her full lower lip, worrying at it and sending desire lancing through him like a lightning strike as he fought the need to kiss the reddened flesh better.
“The truth,” he urged her, telling himself he had best know the worst now, before he had fallen any farther under her spell.
She looked up at him and he stared down into eyes of the softest brown, flecked with gold, bronze, copper. Idiot. He had no farther to fall. He was utterly spellbound.
“I believe in you,” she said, and then laughed again, though he liked this sound rather less than before. “My parents think I am quite mad, but… but I told them I believed you were a good man, that you would try your best to be a good husband to me.”
Ludo stared at her in awe. “You said that? Out loud?”
“Of course out loud,” she said, giving him an odd look. “Else how would they have heard me?”
“They’re right.” He reached out and caressed her cheek. “You are quite mad.”
She stiffened, and he hurried on before he made a mull of it all.
“But you were right, too, at least… I have not been a good man, Bunty, but I will do better. I have no idea how to be a husband either, but I shall try.”
He winced, wondering how he had ever been considered an eloquent ladies’ man. The skill seemed to have been lost to him the moment he found himself alone in the library with this astonishing woman. Had that really only been two days ago?
To his delight she reached up, covered the hand at her cheek with her own, and turned into it, kissing his gloved palm and then blushing furiously. He wanted badly to pull her into his arms and kiss her, here and now, but he did not dare. The likelihood of getting carried away was too strong, and he would not embarrass her for the world. So, he did nothing more than hold her hand for the rest of the journey until they arrived outside of his front door.
The humiliation of guiding her into his bachelor accommodation was worse than he’d expected, and his expectations had been pretty bloody low. His stomach clenched to see her in such a place. It was like taking a flawless diamond and throwing it down in the dirt. So when she turned and smiled at him with delight in her eyes, he was quite lost for words.
“You bought flowers,” she said, moving to where he’d arranged them in whatever jugs and empty glasses he could find, and set them around the room. She touched her gloved finger to the white petals, and Ludo ached for her to touch him with such obvious pleasure.
“They’re Christmas roses,” he said. “They reminded me of you.”
She looked up at once, staring at him.
“They did?” she asked, obviously sceptical. “Why?”
He shrugged, feeling strangely self-conscious. He’d flattered and seduced women enough in his day, but he’d never given his heart with the words before. It was surprisingly daunting, making him feel vulnerable and exposed. “They’re perfect. They look beautiful and delicate, innocent, but they are strong and brave enough to bloom in the harshest of winters.”
Her mouth formed a little ‘o’ of surprise and she blinked, her eyes glittering brightly.
“That… That is the nicest thing anyone has ever said to me,” she whispered.
“It’s the truth.”
She stared at him a moment longer before returning her attention to the room. Her gaze fell upon two framed watercolours, and Ludo felt anxiety prickle down his back.
“Oh, these are lovely. So cleverly painted. Where did you
get them?”
“Um….”
She turned to look at him. “Do you know the artist?”
“Y-Yes,” he hedged.
“They’re marvellous. Look at the candlelight burning indoors, shining through the windows of that beautiful house, and the way the twilight is making the skies all dim and yet glowing outside. You can almost feel the chill of autumn in the air and you know the fire inside is warm and cosy. It looks just the sort of place one would wish to live, as if nothing bad could ever happen there.”
Ludo allowed that comment to unfurl inside him with a burst of pleasure, but said nothing, uncertain of how she would feel about his love of painting. It was suited to young ladies and maiden aunts, but was not a manly pursuit. That point had been hammered home early on, his family having made their feeling about his ambitions to be an artist abundantly clear.
“And you have a meal ready for us, too.”
Ludo watched as she uncovered the dishes and inspected the cold supper he’d had provided by his landlady.
“It looks splendid,” she said, smiling at him as she removed her bonnet and gloves.
“Are you hungry now?” he asked, wondering why he was asking such stupid questions when all he wanted was to take her to bed.
To his great relief, she shook her head, then set the hat and gloves aside and unbuttoned her pelisse.
“I’m too nervous to eat. And I don’t say that very often,” she admitted, with a self-deprecating laugh that sounded a touch brittle. She laid her coat on a chair and clutched her arms about her stomach, blushing before looking away from him.
She was nervous, he realised. Well, of course she was. This was her wedding night, and… Holy God, she was a virgin. Not that he hadn’t known that. Of course he’d known that, but… but he hadn’t really considered that… that she’d never… that no one had ever….
He’d be the first.
Damn that, he’d be her only.
Oh, Lord, what if he hurt her?
What if she cried?
Panic gripped him.
“Perhaps some champagne, then?” he suggested, darting from the room the moment she nodded. Ludo hurried through the bedroom and flung open the window to retrieve the champagne bottle he’d left there to chill. He slammed the window shut again before the room grew cold, but a merry fire blazed in the hearth and it was warm and welcoming. He eyed the bed with misgiving.
Have Yourself a Merry Little Scandal: a Christmas collection of Historical Romance (Have Yourself a Merry Little... Book 1) Page 27
