Did he? It was a shame Thorn was about to dash the man’s aspirations for acquiring Olivia for his collection.
“Then it seems fitting that we share our news with your good friend,” Thorn said smoothly.
Mr. Chauncey’s forehead furrowed. “News?”
“What news?” Olivia echoed.
“My meeting with your father,” Thorn said. “Lord Dewick has granted his consent. We are betrothed.”
Oliva abruptly stood. “What?”
“You have been courting Miss Lydall?” Mr. Chauncey also stood. He was so shocked by the news that he did not conceal his disappointment.
“I do not believe it!” Olivia sputtered.
“I know, my dear,” Thorn said, enjoying his part. He rose from the sofa and grinned down at her. “You thought it would take months to earn your father’s approval. This calls for a celebration, does it not? Shall we go downstairs and share a glass of wine with Lord Dewick?”
“No,” Olivia whispered.
“Allow me to be the first to offer my congratulations. I should take my leave so you and Lord Kempthorn can have a private celebration,” Mr. Chauncey said, sounding sad and confused, to no one in particular.
Please do, my good man, and take your pocket book with you.
“A pity you have to go,” Thorn said, his fingers encircling Olivia’s elbow to stop her from walking to the other gentleman. “The butler is just outside the door. He will escort you downstairs.”
Mr. Chauncey picked up his book and clutched it to his chest as he stared forlornly at Olivia. “Yes, I must leave. Miss Lydall, please give my regards to Lord Dewick, and once again, I wish you and Lord Kempthorn good tidings.”
“It was so good to see you again, Mr. Chauncey,” she said, sounding as if she was strangling on her words.
Mr. Chauncey raised his hand in farewell. “Lord Kempthorn,” he muttered, sending Thorn a quick look of resentment before he stalked out of the drawing room.
Her tight smile fell as soon as the gentleman departed. Olivia turned to confront him and proved her annoyance by poking her finger into Thorn’s chest. “What have you done?”
Chapter Twenty-Four
“This is a prank of some sort,” Olivia declared. She strode to the drawing room doors and shut them so she and Thorn could speak in private. “Though I cannot fathom how you convinced my father to participate.”
“You wound me, my sweet,” Thorn said. “If I am not speaking the truth, why would I allow Mr. Chauncey to leave with fresh gossip ringing in his ears? He is bound to tell someone what he learned and that person will tell twenty of his closest friends. By nightfall, a third of London will know.”
Oh dear, poor Mr. Chauncey. She could not fathom what the gentleman thought of her now when she had given him permission to call on her just minutes before Lord Kempthorn’s arrival.
Olivia passed by Thorn and sat down on the sofa. She brought her hands to her face. “How did this happen? You were supposed to convince my father that nothing happened in the coach.”
Thorn dropped down next to her, causing her bounce on the plump cushion. “Something did happen in the coach. Do you recall when I slipped my hand beneath your skirt—”
“Stop!” She groaned into her hands and then let them drop to her lap. “My father saw us kissing. Nothing more. He would not demand that you marry me.”
“Well, we did more than kiss, Olivia,” he said, looking rested and cheerful. So much so, she longed to throttle him. “We must have given ourselves away or your father understands the nature of young couples better than we have given him credit. And if you doubt that we are betrothed, all you have to do is go downstairs and Lord Dewick will confirm it.”
“Why are you not furious?” she demanded. “You have no desire to be leg-shackled to a wife.”
“Calm down, Olivia,” he advised. “Another man might think that you do not want to marry me.”
How could she be Thorn’s countess? The man’s moods were similar to the tides, ever shifting from amusement to displeasure. Olivia sensed that he viewed her as another duty to oversee, but was there friendship? Affection? Oh, to be certain, the gentleman enjoyed kissing her. Though the news did not ease her fears. Thorn had kissed countless ladies.
She tried to stand, but the scoundrel reached out and grabbed her arm. Irritated, she sat down. “I do not wish to marry you, Thorn.” She rushed on, “Any more than you have a desire to marry me. We must speak to my father and talk him out of his nonsense.”
“Are you brave enough for such a frank conversation?” he pressed. “In your father’s eyes, you are ruined.”
Her shoulders slumped. “Oh, this is most unfair,” she cried out. “No one is telling you that you are ruined for kissing a lady. Otherwise, you would have been betrothed as a boy.”
Thorn laughed. “Very true, though it does not alter your circumstances. Did you not find satisfaction when I intimately caressed you?”
Her face burned with the knowledge that she had enjoyed every minute of it. “I do not wish to discuss it.”
Thorn leaned closer. She inhaled and held her breath as he brushed his lips against her earlobe. “When I was lying in my bed last evening, I thought about you. How your tongue tasted against mine. The wetness that coated my fingers when I slipped my hand between your thighs and stroked that sensitive slit.”
She refused to look at him. “Your words are as coarse as your manners,” she said, feeling her nipples constrict at the reminder.
“We took a risk and were caught,” he whispered into her ear. “I have agreed to pay the price for our night’s mischief. What about you? Especially, when I cannot wait to put my hands on you again.”
Olivia felt a wave of heat wash over her. The flesh between her legs ached as if her body was anticipating his touch. “You dare to tease me. In my father’s house?”
“Aye, I dare. I will tease and torment both of us until you cannot think of another man touching you.” He paused. “Kissing you.”
Gideon’s kiss.
Olivia turned her head and stared at him. Had Gideon told Thorn that he had kissed her? Or was this just another one of the earl’s games. The kiss she had shared with Gideon was restrained and a bit tepid. It lacked the spark and the excitement she had felt when she had kissed Thorn within the dark interior of his coach. Or the earlier kiss she had thought she had shared with Gideon.
Malster Park.
It had been Thorn who had kissed her in front of Lady Felstead’s folly.
She gritted her teeth. “What do you want from me?”
“Everything.”
The single word crackled in the drawing room like invisible lightning and rumbled through her entire body like thunder.
“Or nothing.” Thorn shrugged. “Though if we are betrothed, I see no reason why we should deny ourselves.”
Of course, he was already weighing the advantages of their arrangement.
Thorn’s face sobered. “You should know why your father is upset. My cousin and my friends told Gideon that there was some ballroom gossip about us.”
“Gossip?” She was disheartened by the revelation. “Is this about Lord Norgrave?”
Thorn gave her an impatient look. He obviously was recalling his unhappiness at discovering her in the company of the marquess. Shaking his head, he said, “No, though I would not be surprised if a few individuals are commenting on your appalling taste in friends.”
“Lest you forget, you may add yourself to that growing list,” she shot back.
He quelled her with a stony look. “Regardless, there is some speculation about the nature of our friendship. When your father came to our town house, Gideon repeated the gossip told to him by St. Lyons, Chance, and Rainbault.”
Good grief, why had Gideon revealed such news to her father? Of course, she and Thorn had compounded the problem by allowing themselves to be discovered together in the coach.
“This announcement will only confirm the rumors.”
; “It will dispel any nasty gossip and restore your good name. You know, you should be grateful that I agree with your father,” he reminded her.
“Did you have a choice?”
Thorn hesitated. “Not really, but that is beside the point.”
Olivia sighed as her spirits reached a new low. “Let us be honest, Thorn. We are not a good match.”
“No, we are not.”
She winced at the ease with which the earl confirmed her declaration. “I was supposed to be seeking a husband so I did not end up with one handpicked by Lady Grisdale,” Olivia said, marveling at how much trouble she had gotten into in less than a day.
“There is no reason why you cannot continue to search for him,” Thorn drawled.
Olivia locked gazes with him. There was not a hint of teasing in his dark green eyes. “Why should I look for a potential husband when I have you?”
“My thoughts exactly,” was his wry reply. “Most ladies in your enviable position would consider me quite the catch.”
“So this is a ruse,” she exclaimed and then punched him in the arm for teasing her. “How could you go on and let me think—”
Thorn silenced her with a kiss. He indulged himself by spearing his tongue between her teeth. Playfully, he coiled and uncoiled his nimble tongue against hers until she had forgotten what they were discussing.
“The engagement is real. You are my betrothed, and by nightfall, my family will learn of this joyful development,” he said. His green irises were thin rings, inflamed by a simple kiss. “Neither one of us should give anyone a reason to think otherwise. However, you are not the only Lydall who believes I am unworthy to marry you.”
“I did not say you are unworthy,” she said crossly. “It is my opinion that we are not a good match.”
Thorn kissed her again. Both of them were breathless when they separated. “Definitely not a good match,” was his husky reply. He smirked at her. “Where was I?”
Olivia gave him a weak shove and stood. “I am heading downstairs to speak with my father since you are making little sense.”
He also climbed to his feet and trailed after her. “Lord Dewick is committed to this course. You will not dissuade him.”
“We will see,” she said, not feeling as confident as she sounded. Olivia crossed the threshold. “Besides, I doubt anyone will believe you have been courting me in secret.”
“We have known each other since we were children. With the support of my family and Lord Dewick, no one will question my interest in you,” he said, unmoved by her misgivings. “With a little effort, I can be quite convincing.”
As Lord Kempthorn or as Gideon?
Olivia’s mouth thinned at his arrogant statement but she refused to be goaded. Holding her head high, she ignored Thorn and went downstairs to find her father.
* * *
Ten minutes later, Thorn was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed as he watched father and daughter argue over the merits of announcing their engagement. Lord Dewick was unyielding in his decision and the banked fury in the baron’s eyes was a reminder that he blamed Thorn.
“Papa, if you would consider—”
“No. I will not alter my opinion on the subject,” Lord Dewick said, unwilling to let his daughter’s emotional appeal sway him.
Thorn was sympathetic. Olivia lived a sheltered life, but no one had interfered and she had freedoms most ladies would envy. Now everyone had an opinion about all aspects of her life from how she spent her afternoon to the gentleman her father had betrothed her to without her knowledge. He moved his shoulder as leverage to push himself away from the wall and crossed the room to where Olivia was standing.
She stiffened as she became aware of his proximity.
“It isn’t fair to Lord Kempthorn,” she protested.
“Lord Kempthorn can speak for himself, my dear lady,” Thorn murmured into her ear, startling her. “Would you care to join me when I tell my family?”
Olivia stared at her father. “What if I promised to heed all of Lady Grisdale’s advice without complaint?”
Lord Dewick’s lips twitched. “An impossible feat. Though I would appreciate it if you were kinder to her since she will one day be your stepmother.”
“You are stuck with me, sweeting,” Thorn teased. He was tempted to kiss her shoulder, but the lady was flustered and feeling cornered. If he touched her, he might lose a tooth.
“Only temporarily if I deem you unworthy to marry my daughter, Kempthorn,” her father said, his countenance darkening.
“How so?” she asked. “Lord Kempthorn mentioned that I could use my time in Town to seek a more like-minded gentleman. None of this makes any sense to me.”
Naturally, his betrothed was planning her escape.
“From what I saw in the coach, you and Kempthorn seem compatible enough,” the baron said bluntly. “However, I told him that I would not fight him in the courts if he broke the engagement.”
“You gave him permission to abandon me at the marriage altar?” she wailed. “I will be a laughingstock!”
“Stop being dramatic,” Thorn ordered. “When it is time for us to end our engagement, it will be you who will cry off.”
“You are serious.”
“Do not fret, Olivia, I will come up with a good reason for you and I to part ways that will appease even the most hardened critic. By the time I am finished, you will have the ton’s sympathy,” he said, lightly touching her on the upper arm.
Olivia whirled halfway to confront him.
She frowned. “And your reputation as an utter bounder will be secured.”
He acknowledged her observation by inclining his head. “You would deny me a small reward?”
Olivia’s hands came up in surrender. “I cannot talk sense into either of you. Do what you will.” Without bidding her father farewell, she marched out of the library.
“I always do, my dear,” Thorn softly replied.
“Olivia rarely loses her temper.”
He shrugged. “I can handle your daughter.” What astonished him was that he was relishing matching wits with the lady.
Lord Dewick cleared his throat. “This arrangement is to protect her reputation and quell the gossips, Kempthorn. It does not give you license to continue your dalliance.”
Thorn slowly exhaled. “No one will believe our engagement isn’t genuine if we do not behave like a besotted couple.”
“I will not see her hurt.”
The baron was as stubborn as his daughter.
“I have no intention of causing Olivia pain, my lord,” Thorn said with an air of impatience. “However, I will gain her cooperation by any means. Do not interfere.”
“Are you threatening me, Kempthorn?” the baron sputtered in outrage.
“Aye, I am,” Thorn replied. “I have agreed to this engagement because it suits both of our purposes. You have done your part. Let me do mine.”
Chapter Twenty-Five
“You have proposed to Olivia?” Lady Felstead stared in astonishment at her eldest son. At his brisk nod, she switched her attention to Olivia. “Marriage?”
“Aye, mother,” he replied wryly. “Why else would I have proposed to the lady?”
It had taken a day and a half to assemble his family into his mother’s drawing room to share the good news. Lord and Lady Felstead held court in the middle of the room as they were seated on the sofa. Chance and Tempest sat opposite his parents on another sofa. His sister Fiona and his father’s nine-year-old ward, Muriel, had claimed two of the chairs. Gideon had distanced himself from the family as he stood near a window.
“Nothing that can be uttered in front of the children, I wager,” his twin drawled, and was rewarded with a glare from Thorn, Chance, and Lord Felstead.
“Enough, Gideon,” the marquess growled, ignoring the Duke of Blackbern’s soft chuckle.
Without telling him, his mother had invited the Duke and Duchess of Blackbern to join them. Their numbers increased with their children
. Chance’s brother Benjamin was absent due to another commitment and Frederick was away at school, but the Blackberns’ eighteen-year-old daughter, Honora, sixteen-year-old Mercy, and eight-year-old Constance were present.
Thorn had decided not to include St. Lyons and Rainbault in this first meeting. The two gentlemen were like brothers, but he could not trust them not to question his lack of courtship and hasty engagement to Miss Lydall. They had witnessed Gideon’s outburst at their town house, and were too intelligent not to draw their own conclusions of Thorn’s meeting with Lord Dewick. He would speak to them later in private.
He had considered inviting Lady Arabella. Not only was she Tempest’s sister, she was also Olivia’s friend. Unfortunately he was uncertain if she would approve of his engagement to Olivia so he eventually discarded the notion of adding her to the guest list. The Duke and Duchess of Blackbern’s unexpected arrival affirmed he had made the right decision.
Lord Dewick had also offered to attend with Lady Grisdale, but Thorn had politely declined. Olivia was skittish. Her first glimpse of the drawing room filled with his family had sent her fleeing in the opposite direction. It had taken a sip of brandy, a little fanning to cool her face and neck, and a few sniffs from the ornate vinaigrette box he had retrieved from her reticule to restore her courage.
Thorn and Olivia stood side by side in front of Lord and Lady Felstead as he announced to his stunned family that he had spoken to Lord Dewick and had gained the gentleman’s blessing.
“Forgive me, Father, I should have come to you after I spoke with the baron.” Thorn threaded his fingers through Olivia’s to prevent her from edging away from him and undermining their united front. “In my eagerness, I sought out Olivia and proposed immediately.”
Constance whispered loudly to Muriel. “You have a new sister.”
“Well done, brother,” Fiona said, pleased by the news. “Olivia will fit in rather nicely with our eccentric family.”
“Congratulations, Thorn,” the Duchess of Blackbern said, smiling at the couple. “Welcome to the family, Miss Lydall.”
Olivia swayed a little, so he gave her hand an encouraging squeeze. “Thank you, Your Grace.”
Waiting for an Earl Like You Page 23
