"A ruse? You've taken leave of your senses," Catherine snapped. She was so agitated, she rose, and paced. "What's really behind this? And don't fudge. I know that you're capable of handling little Lady Burnley. Have you —" It seemed unlikely, but she turned. She wanted to see his face. "Have you become attached to Melly?"
Color rose on his cheekbones. He couldn't meet her gaze.
Catherine didn't think it possible, but Linton had been defeated. By her sister. She shook her head. "Well… No. No, and no. And no again."
"Why?"
"You recall the jewelers, do you not?"
"Lady Ashby," he looked chagrined. "I knew you would challenge me on that. I severed that connection. She's well pleased with what I gave her as a parting gift."
Catherine doubted that. She'd seen Lady Ashby with Linton, and knew that the courtesan had imagined herself as the next Lady Linton.
She tapped her foot on the thick cream and blue Aubusson rug, and stared down at the swags of roses decorating the center. What if… what if she agreed?
Melly had formed an attachment to Linton. An engagement could well break the attachment. Melly could change her mind, and Catherine was certain she would, eventually. If she did, Linton would let her go.
In the meantime, as Lord Linton's betrothed, he'd give Melly consequence.
Linton didn't interrupt her thoughts. He waited patiently for her to work through the ramifications if she agreed.
She sat down on the sofa again. "I think that you're a madman," she said roundly. "But… Melly has formed an attachment to you already, as you well know. The best way to break that attachment is to allow her to see as much of you as she wishes. So, you may speak to Melly — but don't expect me to encourage her!"
He didn't react at all. He simply watched her.
Catherine played with the the household keys chained to her belt. She shook her head. "It will be a lengthy engagement. We've decided that Melly must have a season. Would you agree to an engagement of at least a year?"
"Yes — I want Mel to have a season too. I —"
Catherine suddenly remembered Hexham, and interrupted. "Hexham asked Mother and me for permission to call on Melly."
"Then I'll need to be brisk in my wooing."
He didn't look surprised. No doubt he'd suspected that that was what Hexham meant, when Hexham asked the Eardleys to Far Crossing. "I won't encourage her to accept your offer," Catherine repeated.
It was only fair to warn him. She had a soft spot for Linton, she realized, and that surprised her. "Mother will be in alt. Anne… I don't know about Anne. She doesn't like Hexham at all. She may take against you too. Henry will be ecstatic, no doubt. She likes your horses, and considers you a horseman."
"That's high praise from her," he smiled.
She thought he looked relieved. Had she given in too soon?
"I'll need to charm Lady Kingston."
"You'll need to charm Melly first — she may have formed an attachment, but I doubt she'll be easy to convince. There's our father, you see."
"Ah."
He did see, she realized. "And Talverne too… Melly spent years imagining herself as Lady Talverne —" She waved her hand dismissively when Linton looked at her sharply. "She's not wearing the willow for him, don't think that. She's seen him for what he is. She wouldn't have him now, not at any price."
Catherine rose. "I won't say anything to Melly, or anyone else. If she asks — or if Mother or Anne ask why you called, I'll tell them that we had sharp words about that pamphlet. And Talverne. They'll expect that."
He bowed over her hand. "You're a formidable woman, Mrs. Grove."
She stared at the door after he'd left. She heard the front door open and close, and still she stared. Formidable? She wasn't. She'd made a horrid mess of her own marriage. She would see that Melly didn't make a similar mess.
A kindness
Linton's town carriage waited for them when Linton called to take Melly to the park. He explained that the young horse harnessed to his phaeton for their turn around the park was too green for town traffic. "I hope you're ready for an interesting time. He's only been to the park twice."
Although he was charm itself, and had complimented her on her new carriage dress before they left Eardley House, Melly sensed a constraint in him, and frowned. "What is it?" She asked.
She suspected that she knew what had happened. Her maid had told her that Lord Linton had called, and had spoken with Mrs. Grove for an hour. Catherine refused to discuss it, saying only, "If you want to know, ask Linton."
"What happened with Catherine? I suppose you asked her to cease her machinations, and she told you exactly what she thought of Talverne, of you, and the entire Ward family. Catherine is overly protective."
"Mrs. Grove and I had an interesting discussion," he said mildly.
She looked at him skeptically. "Yes, I'm sure of that."
"Melly, you're right. I do have something on my mind… I wish to ask you something — I'd like you to do me a kindness. It's not a small kindness either. I'll ask you shortly, as soon as we're in the phaeton."
A kindness? What on earth could he mean? They'd reached the park, so there was no opportunity to ask him.
His groom was walking a large chestnut harnessed to a perch phaeton, with another groom on the seat, and the tiger up behind.
Linton stepped up into the phaeton and took over the reins. His groom and the tiger jumped down. Then the groom handed her up, and Linton nodded to the groom at the horse's head to let him go.
The horse was already sweating, and took exception to every carriage they passed. Melly smiled, as riders and carriages moved out of their way. "He's a challenge, but amazing," she said to Linton. "Henry would love him."
"You're enjoying this," he said, shooting her a look. "I thought you might."
The horse reared, but Linton mastered him and drove him forward.
Finally, after fifteen minutes, the chestnut settled. The horse lengthened his stride, and performed as though he'd been in harness all of his three years.
"Will you tell me about this kindness?"
Linton looked at her. She smiled at him, and he returned the smile. "I want you to agree to a betrothal — to me."
"A what?" Melly stared at him. He was looking at the horse, guiding him past a carriage with a footman running alongside. She couldn't have heard him correctly. "Did you say — are you asking me to marry you?"
"I'm asking you to agree to a betrothal," he said carefully. "A betrothal will end the war between Mrs. Grove and Lady Burnley."
"A pretend betrothal — a game?" Melly asked. "Why?"
"As my countess, your rank would ensure that the ton ignored little Lady Burnley. She'd be seen for the spoiled little…" He paused for a moment.
Melly saw the quick flare of anger which passed over his face. He was very angry at Lady Burnley, she realized.
"Think of the rise in consequence our betrothal would bring you." He smiled slowly at her. "Are you refusing the chance to become my countess?"
Now he was teasing her. "The Countess of Linton?" She answered him in the same tone. "How could I refuse? All doors would be open to me, would they not?"
"They would."
"Until I cried off."
"Mel, that needn't happen for years. After all, you've no wish to be rushed into a wedding — neither have I. You've two sisters who will make their bows to society. As my betrothed, you'd give them consequence too. My view on this matter is simple. Our betrothal would eliminate any trace of the scandal that Lady Burnley began."
His tone was perfectly bland. She had no idea what he was thinking. "I don't know whether it would help," she said. A part of her was dismayed. Pretend that Linton wanted to marry her?
"I asked Catherine."
"You did? What did she say?"
"She agreed, if you agreed."
"You're putting me in an awkward position." Suddenly she was furiously angry with him. How dare he and Catherine try to man
ipulate her in this way. It was grossly unfair. Yes, she'd started the war, because she'd confronted Pierce, but she didn't want a pretend betrothal.
For several long moments, she frowned. Then she rubbed her forehead, and sniffed. She could do it, she decided. "Very well," she said coldly. "Thank you, Lord Linton, I accept. You and I will attempt this charade. How — what do I do?"
His voice was infuriatingly calm. He didn't look at her, she noticed. All his attention was on the chestnut, which continued to move well. "We'll proceed as all betrothed couples do. I shall speak with your mother, and we'll each inform the members of our family. I daresay your mother will want to give a dinner party to celebrate… Later, I shall give a ball… Then, once our families and connections have been informed, we will announce our betrothal publicly."
She clenched her hands in her lap. A part of her was angry. Another part of her was sad. And yet another part was excited. "That's all very well. How will our betrothal end?"
"We'll have a long engagement — you'll have your season. Your mother wishes it."
"So our engagement will go on forever, will it?"
"Well, it could end in the usual way — we could marry. Would that be so bad? But Catherine insisted on an engagement of at least a year."
"I suppose you'll want me to cry off, then you can go back to your former life. What of your mistress?" She had no compunction about asking him this. He was asking a lot of her, after all. She would be embarrassed when the time came to call off the charade, and in the meantime, if he thought that she'd allow him to embarrass her with a mistress, he didn't know her at all.
"I no longer have a mistress — and I won't. I mean this to be a proper engagement, Mel. I won't do anything that could cause you concern."
Melly forced herself to breathe, and cleared her throat. "You said you'd ask me to do you a kindness, and not a small one. It's a large kindness indeed."
"I think it's for the best, don't you? Consider that our engagement would soothe both Catherine and Lady Burnley."
"Lady Burnley may well decide that Talverne isn't worth the aggravation."
"In which case, Talverne will have a great deal to thank you for."
She chuckled at that, and from then on, felt lighter.
Engaged to Lord Linton… She watched him from the corner of her eye. He was elegant, handsome, rich — and very experienced. A known rake, some said. The engagement would cement her place in the ton. Mother would receive invitations; they would be asked everywhere.
She needed to remember Elaine, and Henry. Both girls would make their comeout in the coming years. The war between spoiled Lady Burnley, and vengeance-loving Catherine needed to end.
"I can't believe that Catherine agreed."
"Why not? It makes good sense. You're to have a season, and there's Miss Elaine and Miss Henrietta to consider as well. A feud between our families is unthinkable."
He was right. She didn't like the idea of crying off. But she could do it, she had no doubt of that. And no doubt either, that without putting himself out at all, Linton would give her many reasons for crying off.
He shot her a glance. "Will you accompany me to Richmond Park on Saturday? We'll ride, if you like, or take the carriage. Your mother and sisters must come as well. We can make further plans then… I need to speak with your mother, too."
Richmond Park would give them a chance to speak without an audience. "Yes, thank you — we'll enjoy it." She would, she thought, as she watched Linton's capable handling of the chestnut. The horse had taken exception to a lady's hat, which the wind had sailed directly across his path.
The horse reared, then tried to bolt, but Linton handled him expertly, driving him forward.
An engagement to Lord Linton could have much in common with trying to manage a fractious horse, she mused. She couldn't see him taking well to being driven in harness.
7. Betrothal
Catherine might have agreed to the engagement, but Mrs. Eardley was far from convinced. Lord Linton closeted himself with her when he and Melly returned from the park in his carriage.
Melly didn't see him when he left the house, because she was dressing for dinner. They had guests, and she couldn't speak with her mother until the last guest had left. Her mother hadn't forgotten, because she asked Melly, Anne and Catherine to attend her in her small private sitting room.
"Well," Mrs. Eardley said to Melly when they were all seated, and her mother's footman had left the room. "I spoke with Lord Linton. Tell me what you mean with this engagement, Melly my love."
It was hard to gauge from her mother's expression what she was thinking.
Catherine and Anne sat on the sofa. Catherine looked bored. Anne looked tired.
Melly was hoping that Catherine would say something, but her eldest sister shook her head and remained silent. She waved her hand for Melly to speak.
Finally Melly took a deep breath and said: "It's merely a pretense, Mother. Linton means to silence Lady Burnley." She glanced at Catherine, who smiled blandly. "We will be engaged — or so it will seem. It's a ploy, to…" She flushed, and glanced at Catherine again. "I thought that it might be useful — Lady Burnley will realize that we're to be related… Elaine will be ready to make her comeout soon. And —"
Mrs. Eardley interrupted. "You haven't considered that if you're engaged to the earl, and no wedding results, that that will cause a scandal of its own," she rubbed her forehead. "And besides, Captain Lord Hexham means to call. I have no doubt you would garner many other beaux during your season… You would give that up, merely to indulge in a game? With the Earl of Linton, of all people. I've known Randall Ward since he hatched, and why he'd take it into his head… No — I won't agree to it, as I told him."
"I agree with you, Mother," Anne said. "Melly would give up too much — besides, although I like Linton, he's a rake." She lifted her hand at Melly's protest. "He's much older than you are too."
"You told Lord Linton that you refused?" Melly asked her mother. She was dismayed, and wondered at herself. She didn't want to be part of a charade, so she should have been relieved.
"I told him that I insisted that you and he wait for a month. You hardly know the man. So, a month… I think that that is more than fair. All the fuss will die down within a month, I'm sure. Lady Burnley is at The Oaks. Whatever flights she's been on, her wings are singed. I cannot see that she would wish for further notoriety. We can go on as we meant to do — a few weeks at the seaside, then we return to Gostwicke Hall… Or perhaps not. We'll return directly to London."
Catherine sat forward. "No, after the seaside, we return to Gostwicke Hall, before we come back to London. Have la Burnley keep us from our home? I think not — I won't have that chit queening it over the county." She laughed. "No, we go on as we meant to. It will be thought quite odd in us if we abandon our home."
"Melly?" Anne asked. She laid a hand on Catherine's arm to settle her.
Perhaps her mother was right. A month it would be. Lord Linton might very well change his mind, and perhaps Lady Burnley would be too busy licking her wounds to wish to anger Catherine again. "Very well, a month, then. What did Lord Linton say, Mother?"
"He was amenable, all politeness, my dear. He has a lot of address, that man… Which made me think that while he might imagine that you could cry off, I don't think that for a moment. He's charming, and you would become attached. Then he would break your heart."
Melly laughed aloud at that. "No, indeed not. I like Linton Mother, but to imagine that —"
"I can imagine it," Anne broke in.
"Well, I can't," Catherine said confidently. She laughed. "We're talking about Linton," she said to Anne. "He's older than Melly, and set in his ways. I can see Melly crying off long before a year passes. His habits — clubs, gaming, hunting — and his other pastimes… He won't sit in Melly's pocket. She'll grow weary of it and him quickly. She'll meet other men, and watch other young ladies become engaged to them. Linton will be like a sheet anchor, and she'll c
ut him adrift. I know that his glamor will fade. That's the only reason I ever agreed."
Melly flushed. Her face became heated. "You believe that —"
"I believe that once you get to know the man, you'll be more than happy to see the last of him. Rake or not, and I admit he never brings his more colorful interests into a ton drawing room — he's much more experienced than you, Melly. He'll won't indulge you forever; he'll grow bored. You'll become tired of his nonsense… And it will be over."
Although she might have liked to challenge Catherine on what she said, Melly knew that she couldn't. Of course Linton would grow bored with her.
"We'll have no more talk of an engagement for a month," Mrs. Eardley said.
"A month," Melly agreed.
Richmond Park
Mrs. Eardley and Catherine had prior engagements on Saturday, but Anne and Henry agreed to join Melly and Linton on a day out to Richmond Park.
Henry of course insisted on riding to the park. Anne, and Mrs. Eardley, refused to allow it. Henry sulked. However, she calmed when a footman from Linton delivered a note on Wednesday morning.
They were at breakfast. Mrs. Eardley read the note to her daughters. Six of Linton’s horses would be at Richmond Park, ready for them to ride, if they wished.
"I knew that Linton would come up trumps! Which horses? May I write to ask?" Henry had jumped out of her chair with excitement.
"No, you may not. But you may thank him politely… Come with me to the library so that we can write to him…" Mrs. Eardley said.
Catherine shook her head when Mrs. Eardley and Henry had left the room. "She's 14, and still thinks of nothing but horses. Anne, you'll need to help me to convince Mother that Henry must be sent to school. She needs to meet other young girls to guide her thoughts in a proper direction — can you imagine what a disaster her comeout will be otherwise?"
By the time Saturday arrived, Melly was almost as excited as Henry. She'd changed her riding habit several times, and hats a dozen times. Finally Linton's carriages arrived.
The Lady and the Rake: A Scandalous Arrangement (The Eardleys of Gostwicke Hall Book 1) Page 8
