The Bluestocking and the Dastardly, Intolerable Scoundrel

by Jenni James

  Perceval rested his elbows on the table. At nearly thirty, and most favorably married, he was the patriarch of their profligate group. “I cannot fathom why you do not cut your losses now and remove your bet from White’s. ’Tis the gentlemanly thing to do. Quell the rumors and step down.”

  “Give up? Retreat? This is what you are asking of me? Nay. It would be deucedly bad form to pull out now.” Compton grinned. “It may be rather gauche of me, but I believe this Season shall turn out to be much more stimulating than I thought. Let the baggage attempt to entice me, for I am optimistic that my years of wooing the opposite sex are much more advanced than the icy infant could ever grasp. She will be in my arms before she knows what’s what.”

  Atten pushed against Compton’s chair. “Do you still mean to initiate your court with her tomorrow?”

  “Of course. Johnson has the waistcoat chosen, and I plan to purchase a small posy for her as well, show up on her doorstop at two in the afternoon like a lovesick sop, and begin this joyous conquest.” Compton stood up again. “No, gentlemen, nothing has altered. In fact, it has become even more apparent that I should move forward as planned. Not anything will stop me from facing this folly. It will be exceptionally grand; I can feel it now.”

  Hamson stood, clasped Atten’s shoulder, and looked over to Perceval. “Never us mind this, for the more we attempt to make him see reason, the more the halfwit will hang himself.”

  “It is true,” Atten said. “I am nearly tempted to go to White’s myself and place my bet with the viscountess.”

  “Devil it!” Compton sputtered out a chuckle. “You scapegraces had better not leave me hanging, then.”

  “Leave you hanging?” Perceval got up and rounded the side of his desk. “We will stand there and watch as the Lady Ice draws and quarters you!”

  CHAPTER THREE:

  Only moments after Lacey had finished her tea with Mrs. Crabtree and was about to depart her home with two footmen to collect furniture for the new study she was putting in the master quarters, someone knocked upon the front door. She groaned at the top of the stairs and waited to hear Pantersby answer it.

  Now that she had the notion to create one, she was very impatient to have her own study. There was no need for a second dressing room—a beautiful desk, shelves, comfortable chairs, and the like were precisely the thing. Her mother had passed away two years before, leaving her entailed to one of the few fortunes that were handed down through the women in her line, one that missed her half-brother Lord Melbourne completely.

  With her new prestigious title also came a substantial pocket of wealth that she had been seeking to invest in various charities. However, her first major purchase was a house that was all hers. There were the two estates that came with the title, of course, but those were sprawling manor homes in the country. And while it is nice to reside away from the filth of London, there was also an excitement and buzz that is created in town that cannot be found anywhere else.

  So many new government bills to contemplate and lobby for, so many new opportunities for growth and change for England. This was her passion—this was what captivated her most, the ondits of the political world, and what greater way to learn of it than to be right in the middle of all the hubbub during sessions of Parliament in the middle of the Season?

  However, first things first. She simply must have a study in her chambers wherein to pore over the newspapers and articles about all that was going on.

  So lost in her own thoughts, she had almost forgotten a visitor had come until she heard Pantersby welcome the scoundrel himself, Lord Compton! Frustrated, Lacey stepped back into her chambers and waited until Pantersby came and announced the vexatious man.

  “Lord Compton is awaiting you in the green drawing room, my lady. Do you wish to visit with him, or are you indisposed today?”

  “Tell him I am not at home. For indeed, two minutes earlier and I would have already been gone.”

  “As you wish.”

  Then just as suddenly, she changed her mind. Perhaps it would be best to meet with him. “No. Wait, Pantersby. I find do wish to speak to him. I will be down in a moment.”

  “Shall I bring in tea?”

  “Certainly not. I have only this minute finished mine, and I do not believe the man deserves such courtesy. Either way, it does not signify, as he will be leaving shortly.”

  “Very good, my lady.”

  As soon as the butler left, she raced to her wardrobe and pulled out the closest thing that was fit for a morning call. Of all the silly nonsense. Why she felt the need to change was beyond her, but in this instance, it felt direly needed. Lacey rang for her lady’s maid and between the two of them, they made fast work of her appearance, softening her hair and helping Lacey slip into a bright yellow gown with little bows along the flounce. It had been a gift from her mother, something she rarely wore, but it enhanced her red hair very nicely.

  Curiosity got the best of her as she entered the green drawing room and found Lord Compton staring up at a portrait of her family above the mantel. She had brought it down with her from the country to make this place feel more like home.

  The two footmen she had planned to take with her moments before now waited patiently inside the wide-open door, as Mrs. Crabtree was indisposed. So unused to callers was she, Lacey had almost forgotten she was not allowed to be alone with Lord Compton until she noticed them discreetly standing there.

  “Good day,” she said as she sat down on the large gold-and-green striped sofa. “And what brings you to my home?”

  Compton turned around and bestowed a beautiful smile, and then with a swish, exposed a small posy. “I have come to beg forgiveness, Lady Lamb, for obviously offending you at the Huffingtons’ ball last Wednesday. I let things settle a bit, and now I have come to see how you get on.” He handed the flowers to her with a short bow. “And may I say how charming this room looks since you have taken it. You have done wonders with the place already. I am very impressed.”

  Lacey was nauseated by his drivel the second he opened his mouth. She pasted a smile on her face and said calmly, “Please be seated and stop this gibberish.”

  He arched a fine brow and took a step back. With his height, it would seem he was still too close to her. “What gibberish? I am genuinely paying you a compliment, and you treat me as though I am here for another design altogether.” He had the audacity to look aghast.

  “Pshaw.” She waved her hand to indicate once more he could sit. “You are no sooner here to pay me compliments than I am here to receive them. Now out with it.”

  He sat his long limbs across from her in a matching green high-backed chair, and she was delighted to see that he seemed a bit put off. “Perhaps, my dear, if you learned a touch of manners and did not scowl so, you would be esteemed as a rare beauty here in town.”

  “Of all the preposterous things to say.” She nearly lost her countenance as she attempted to keep a straight face. “You have gumption, I will give you that.” She spun the little flowers around in her hand and then set them upon the small side table near her elbow. “So this is how you plan to woo me, then?”

  Compton chuckled and audaciously leaned back in his chair. His dark hair contrasted greatly with green and gold. “Of course not, Lady Lamb. I have absolutely no notion of how to go about wooing anyone of your superior ilk. No, my dear, I am here because of a certain exhilaration to see how it is you plan on courting me.”

  Drat. The savage was attempting to throw her overboard, but it would not do. “My, my.” She grinned. “Well, it would seem someone has been to White’s and become aware of my brother’s bet. I hope it was not too distressing to find that you had been bested, my lord.”

  He folded his arms and grinned in return. “I was fortunate enough to hear all about it last night at the Percevals’ ball. Such a delightful way to receive knowledge of a growing quibble—whispers behind fans. Which reminds me, ’tis such a shame you were not there. You really should consider attending more tha
n two of these events a year.”

  “Do you perchance miss being set down?” She blinked. “I could certainly do it again, if you wish.”

  Lord Compton leaned forward with an obnoxious, self-satisfied smirk upon his features. “That is the beauty of it, my dear. I no longer have to experience you cutting me when I request to take a turn about the dance floor. You have guaranteed that I will be granted as many fine dances with you as I choose.”

  Lady Lamb threw her head back, very unladylike, and laughed, truly laughed for the first time in days. The wily fox was indeed humorous, she would give him that, but he was definitely not worthy to be considered a significant challenge. “First, let me remind you that I am not your dear, so kindly stop referring to me as such. And secondly, Lord Compton, while I find your smugness entertaining, I do not for one moment believe your notions to be anything above that of a small child wishing for his own way. So if you will excuse me, I have other things to attend to today.”

  “How else are you to win my heart if you do not show me some affection?” the disagreeable man countered, as if she had not said another word.

  She shook her head slightly and smiled her dazzling smile—the one that transformed her into her mother, a diamond of the first water in her day. “You, silly couth, seem to have failed to recognize the irony here. I do not have to win your heart. You only have to fall at my feet and beg me to join you in matrimony.” Lacey allowed her own smug smirk to show upon her face. “And as far as the ton is concerned, you are already doing so by scraping about for attention at my door. For why else would you be here?”

  CHAPTER FOUR:

  Instead of Compton taking his leave, as polite manners would suggest he do, especially as the lady herself was wont to be elsewhere, Lord Compton eased himself more fully into the chair and stared at his opponent. Despite having unfashionably ginger-colored hair, Lady Lamb was exceptionally striking to look upon. Indeed, notwithstanding her icy nature, they would have been better to have named her Lady Fire than Lady Ice. Not for one moment did he believe himself to be bested by her. She was as amusing as he had hoped she would be, and for that he was grateful, but to assume she believed herself to be at a greater advantage than he—nonsense. Lady Ice was ever as inconsequential as he first knew her to be.

  It was time, however, to put a bit of a hiccough in her designs. “Come with me for a drive around Hyde Park this afternoon.”

  “Certainly not.” Lady Ice raised her chin a notch.

  Compton was not to be deterred. “Why ever not? Are you running crow?”

  “I am not troubled by you, or whatever appalling thing you plan to include me in. I never have gone around Hyde Park in a curricle during the fashionable hour. I detest such flamboyant, pompous traditions, and I always will. If I am to visit a park, I would much rather walk in clothing that can weather the terrain and explore the place, not be seated beside a sniveling man as I wave politely to everyone else making a similar spectacle of themselves. It is quite beyond me why anyone would care for such a thing. To be seen? Goodness, why should one care if one is seen? In my opinion, it is the epitome of gossipy fluff.”

  Intrigued, he asked, “How so?”

  “Why, you are simply asking others to blather on about you. A person goes to Hyde Park to be talked about. I, however, would prefer to enjoy myself.”

  “I have never heard a woman speak as you do.”

  She chuckled and brushed at an imaginary speck of dust on her yellow skirts. “What? Blatantly calling out the abysmal practices of society?”

  “No, with sense.”

  That seemed to perk her up a bit, for she tilted her head and cautiously asked, “What do you mean?”

  He laughed. “No man in his right mind enjoys parading about Hyde Park. We all wish to be elsewhere, but we do it to keep our mamas happy and to pay court to the ladies.” He adjusted in his seat to turn more fully toward her. “Yet, now to find a lady who finds it as tedious as we do—it is by far the most intriguing thing you have said.”

  “I have many intriguing things to speak of, I am sure. But you, sadly, will never hear them. I prefer to be alone and to go about my world with independence, thank you.”

  “But are you ever lonely? You cannot be as old as me, yet surely you are not far off from my twenty-six. Have you never considered marrying someone and settling down?”

  “Are you coming to scratch so soon, my lord? I honestly feared it would take much longer. La! But this is so much nicer. The answer is no. You may inform everyone that I have officially won the bet.”

  “You know very well that I was not offering for your hand, you monstrous brat.”

  She gave him a sharp look. “No, you were daring to insult me by assuming someone at my age must be eager to plunge into marital bliss,” she countered. “Which led me to turn the tables and remind you to behave.”

  “Nothing of what we have spoken of signifies that either of us will conduct ourselves politely. If anything, it merely sets us up to continue to spew more drivel at the other.”

  “I do not speak drivel, my lord. I am in earnest when I relay that I have no desire to go for a ride around Hyde Park. I have explained my wishes to you, and my reasons for doing so. I assumed we had finally found some common ground when you deemed it necessary to imply that I was growing too ancient and must hurry and marry or there would be no hope for me. Has it ever occurred to you,” she continued, “that I have no desire of any kind to wed?”

  “But why? Honestly, I do not imply anything insulting—I am genuinely confused. Why would a handsome woman, with wealth and privilege and a title, not wish to marry and make a name for herself? Now, halt. I can see I have somehow offended you once more, and that is certainly not my intention. Let me finish. I am mostly curious as to why you have not wed when one of your character and intelligence could influence a husband, and therefore help transform England into a better nation.”

  Lady Lamb clutched her fists upon her lap. “Are you saying I should marry a member of the House of Lords or the House of Commons? Why would you care about England’s improvement? As far as I can see, you are nothing but a wastrel of a man who spends more time making notorious bets at his club, losing money he can ill afford, than caring about the political issues of this country!”

  Abruptly, he stood up. It was too much. Her opinions and scant beliefs of him were much too hard to hear from her lips. “Forgive me, Lady Lamb. I have trespassed on your hospitality far too long. Thank you for your patience. No need to call for your butler—I shall see myself out.” Compton’s chest tightened uncomfortably and his stomach twisted as he bowed over the lady’s hand. He had one thought, and it was simply to escape these confoundingly claustrophobic walls.

  If he learned anything in those wasted, tedious minutes, it was to understand precisely why she had not been courted, and why she still remained unwed. For what man could ever put up with such boorish opinions and harsh realities as she provided? For a minute there, he felt he was sitting across from his father!

  “Lord Compton,” she called as he headed toward the door of the drawing room. He paused, almost willing to ignore her, and then turned slightly. “Yes?”

  Lady Lamb was up and walking toward him, her hand out. “Will you please shake hands with me?”

  His gaze met with the bluest of eyes he had ever beheld. For a moment, they were genuinely breathtaking. How had he never noticed her eyes before? Instinctively, his hand came out to clutch hers.

  “I did not mean to insult you.” A wary smile lifted the corner of her mouth, but it was the drawn-in brows of concern that fascinated him. “I know I am brusque at times.” Her voice was soft and gentle. “But please understand, I thought I was within the rules of the game. We were both slinging spirited mud at the other, you see? I beg your pardon if at any moment, my words harmed you.”

  For a few piercing seconds, stabs of guilt barraged Compton as he stood there holding her delicate hand in his. Here was the woman he had publically shamed
and mocked, begging his forgiveness for privately holding her own and sending him running. There was no need for her apologies, or for her to feel wrong for her comments. He was everything she had said and more, everything he despised most about himself, and everything no other peer would have had the gumption to express.

  He brought that gloveless hand up to his lips and kissed the back of it. “There is nothing to express regret over.” Then he attempted a smile, yet his heart was much too ashamed to make decent work of it, he was sure. “Although you have successfully gained a point in your favor, you have not won yet. I shall return.”

  And then he was gone. Across her threshold and hastily making his way down the street to cool his ever-whirling head. He needed space. He needed to breathe. He would come by later for his curricle. For now, he must chase these demons away before they caught him up and made him answer for all the misgivings he was feeling.

  CHAPTER FIVE:

  Compton walked blindly until he made it to the back end of Hyde Park where Green Street connected. There he took Lady Lamb’s advice to explore and came off the path into the brush and trees and found a large boulder to sit upon, away from the noise, and muddle over his fate.

  He was not one to reflect deeply on the past, nor was he one to believe his mistakes were worthy of contemplation and reform. However, it was the way she said it—as if it were purely matter-of-fact—that plunged right through him. Had he truly become what his father was worried about most? A gambling, mad wastrel? The old Marquees had always wanted him to go into the House of Lords—it was his dream for him. And how Compton had loved that dream. He even went to school for it. Yet, Compton could not find much use for it now. It was one thing to upset Lady Ice with talk of marrying men who could change the world. It was quite another to be given goose for the gander and have the conversation flipped back onto him.