“Ladies, I bid you a pleasant afternoon,” Jasper called out. He expertly guided the carriage alongside the trio of elderly women. “I hope you are enjoying the sunshine.”
“There has not been a ray of sunlight the entire day, Lord Fairhurst,” the duchess replied sternly. “The thick clouds are effectively obstructing all attempts at the sun breaking through.”
“Are they?” Jasper tilted his chin toward the sky. “I had not noticed the clouds. Probably because you bring the sunshine wherever you go, Your Grace.”
The duchess’s eyes narrowed noticeably. The two women flanking her drew closer to her side, in a protective solitary gesture.
“Flattery, young man? To a woman of my advanced years?”
“Truthful observations, Your Grace.”
The duchess raised her eyebrow. “You have your mother’s charm, sir.” A smile grudgingly appeared at the corner of the older woman’s mouth. “And your father’s good looks.”
“Please, Your Grace, you’ll put me to the blush.”
The duchess laughed. After a moment’s hesitation, her two companions joined her. “You are a naughty boy, Lord Fairhurst,” the duchess declared, her eyes sparkling. She tipped her head in a girlish manner, but her expression sobered noticeably when her eyes lit upon Meredith.
“Mischievousness in handsome young lords is to be expected,” the duchess continued in a lecturing tone. “But it is neither accepted nor tolerated in unmarried ladies. Is that not correct?”
The duchess’s two elderly companions nodded their heads in enthusiastic agreement and glanced pointedly at Meredith. She could practically hear the clucking of their disapproving tongues, nearly read the censure in the sharpness of their gaze.
“A sad, though true comment on our society,” Meredith said. “Women have long been denied the freedoms men enjoy, even when we are older and wiser.”
“Hmmph.” A mulish expression crossed the duchess’ face, but to Meredith’s relief the older woman did not leave. “At least you have the good sense to allow your brother to bring you to the park. He is a far more appropriate escort than the company you have been keeping.”
“I quite agree, Your Grace,” Meredith replied.
“ ’Tis good to know that you have recovered some of your senses,” the duchess huffed.
“Whatever could you have been thinking, dear girl, to be so wildly indiscreet?” the woman standing beside the duchess asked. “I was all aflutter when I heard.”
“I can assure you whatever you heard is a vast exaggeration of the truth.” Meredith lowered her head and made a muttering sound, hoping she appeared sufficiently contrite.
The duchess sighed heavily. “I daresay this new sensation you’ve created will quickly become an old one. Why, I heard this very morning that Lord Robertson’s daughter was enamored with her dancing instructor. Not only is he completely unsuitable for the girl, he’s a Frenchman to boot!”
Meredith slowly began to release the breath she held so tightly in her lungs. All would be well. She would endure the admonishment of the duchess and her circle with a contrite expression, leaving them with the impression she was remorseful and planting the seed that she was also not entirely guilty.
Satisfied with the results, Meredith waited anxiously for the appropriate moment to depart. She knew this moment was critical. A slight misstep at this stage would quickly undue the strides she had made.
The sudden squeak of a carriage coming to a halt invaded her concentration. All eyes turned. To Meredith’s astonishment, she saw the vehicle stop in the center of the road. It was an open curricle, harnessed to a magnificent pair of pure white horses. The lively animals stomped their feet impatiently on the ground, huffing in displeasure at being forced to stand still.
Slowly, carefully the carriage pulled beside their own, effectively jamming all the traffic behind it. The driver subdued his spirited horses, then turned toward her.
The Marquess of Dardington stared at Meredith with clear blue eyes, a bemused expression on his handsome features. “Good afternoon, Lady Meredith. I called on you earlier today, but you had already left for the park. Since I was unable to escort you here, I do hope you would consent to allowing me to drive you home.”
The scrutiny Meredith had felt so keenly when first entering the park increased tenfold. Hordes of interested spectators seemed to press forward, attuned to her every word, observant of her slightest expression.
She deliberately avoided the marquess’s eyes as she tried to formulate an appropriate response. If she gave a direct cut, that might give rise to greater speculation about the relationship between them. Yet she could hardly greet him as a friend, or even a warm acquaintance.
“My sister prefers the company of her family,” Jasper said. “It is, after all, the proper and correct behavior for a lady of her stature.”
She glanced beneath her lashes, trying to gage Trevor’s reaction to her brother’s comments. He seemed to be fighting back a smile. Meredith frowned slightly, hoping he would let the matter pass.
“Lady Meredith’s behavior is always above reproach,” the marquess countered. “Yet she has the intelligence, wit, and character to ignore the rigid dictates of a stuffy, hypocritical society when it suits her needs. This strength has always been one of her greatest assets.”
Meredith was speechless. Stunned, actually. All of her hard work was ruined in a single moment. In any other circumstance, she might have been flattered by the complement, for he uttered it with such conviction. But this was hardly the appropriate instance, especially when she had been so close to convincing the duchess she was a contrite, remorseful woman.
Meredith had done everything in her power to downplay the association between her and the marquess, and in a few sentences he had ruined it all.
But it seemed Trevor was not content to leave well enough alone. For he next drew his carriage even closer to hers. Before she had a chance to reason a reply, he reached over and grabbed her hand. He bowed his head, and Meredith watched with tingling anticipation as his lips brushed across her glove.
It was an intimate, familiar gesture that brought forth a gasp of astonishment from the duchess and her companions. Recovering her composure, Meredith tilted her head at a challenging angle. This time she met his gaze directly. “I hardly think a man of your reputation is a fair judge of the character of others.” She folded her hands deliberately in her lap, yet she could still feel the burning imprint of his lips. “You must excuse us, my lord. I find I tire of the open air. Good afternoon, Your Grace. Ladies.”
Their unenthusiastic replies were drowned out by the crunching wheels of the vehicle as it maneuvered down the path.
Trevor watched with an admiring glare as the carriage turned the corner and disappeared from view. He gradually became aware of the swell of nearby conversations, as those who had been listening to the exchange gleefully shared their impressions with each other.
“She sure is a beauty. I’d wager a gold sovereign that blond hair of hers reaches below her waist. Must be a glorious sight to see her shaking it free, to watch it tumble down to her bottom.”
Trevor twisted his neck and looked over at the man with exasperation. “I’ll remind you only once that you are speaking of a lady. One who is far too good for the likes of you, Mallory.”
“I meant no offense. I would never dream of poaching on your territory.” Lord Mallory pulled a handkerchief from his coat pocket and pressed it to his brow. He was a stout fellow, prone to drink and occasional mean-spirited barbs, yet he usually lacked the backbone to do any fighting.
“We all know you are bound to get tired of her eventually, Dardington. You always do. That will leave the road clear for the rest of us to make a play for the lady’s affections and favor.”
Trevor had never considered himself to be an overly violent man. Yet the urge to smash his fist into Mallory’s nose and watch a spurt of blood stain that white handkerchief was nearly overpowering.
Yet he did
not act upon his emotions. He held them in tight rein. Yet he was so close to Mallory, he knew the other man must feel the waves of anger emanating from his body.
“Lady Meredith is the daughter of an earl,” Trevor said. “She is a creature of delicate beauty, upstanding character, and refined sentiment. You, sir, are not fit to wipe her shoes.”
The last comments were hardly necessary. The expression on his face must have clearly conveyed his meaning, for Mallory got rather red in the face, began sputtering like a lackwit, and at the first opportunity took off like a shot.
Seven
Trevor waited two days before he called upon her. He deliberately arrived early in the afternoon to avoid the possibility of meeting anyone else. The gossip about their relationship had not abated. New tidbits of outrageous speculation had reached even Trevor’s ears. And there had been a note from his father reminding the marquess to stay away from the girl until the furor died down.
Which, of course, made Trevor realize it was essential that he visit Lady Meredith. The door to her family’s Grosvenor Square home was answered by a meticulously dressed butler possessing a most dour expression.
“Lady Meredith is not at home, my lord,” the servant insisted the moment the marquess gained entrance to the establishment.
Trevor grinned charmingly at the expected response. “Perhaps Lady Meredith will change her mind when she reads my card.” The card he casually slipped into the butler’s reluctant hand was accompanied by a gold sovereign.
The servant’s eyebrow’s raised fractionally as he studied the gold-embossed name. Then the coin disappeared from view. “I’ll see what I can do, my lord.”
The marquess was kept waiting no more than a minute. Trevor looked up expectantly, but to his great consternation saw another gentleman approaching from the second floor.
“Ah, so that’s the way the wind is blowing,” the other man said. He nonchalantly smoothed the lace of his cuffs over the back of his well-manicured hands, then smiled broadly. “Though I’ve naturally heard all the rumors, Lady Meredith failed to mention you were among the current admirers she receives at home. As much as it pains me to lose her, it is far from a disgrace to be beat out by you.”
Trevor stared hard at Julian Wingate. He had a narrow, arrogant face many women considered handsome, though Trevor thought there was an air of superiority about him that detracted from his features. Wingate was a military man, assigned to Wellington’s own staff, yet his civilian dress of breeches, half boots, and a smartly creased coat suggested otherwise.
“I did not know you had returned to town,” Trevor commented.
“I’ve been back a fortnight,” Wingate replied cheerfully. “I resigned my commission last month. ’Tis good to be home.”
Any further conversation between the two men was interrupted by the reappearance of the butler. “This way, my lord.”
“Good luck, Dardington. Unless her ladyship’s mood has improved considerably, I fear you shall need it.”
The marquess watched the other man saunter casually down the hall and make a leisurely exit out the front door. Trevor was now completely unsure what to expect and was heartily relieved to find the drawing room contained only one person, Lady Meredith. Her back was toward him as he entered the room, but she whirled around at the sound of the door opening.
“Good afternoon, Lady Meredith.”
For a moment her eyes looked blankly into his. Then she lifted her hand, rubbed her temple furiously and muttered something beneath her breath. “Apparently my butler has difficulty interpreting my orders. How much did it cost you to gain entrance?” she asked.
“Pardon?”
“My butler, Perkins, is still somewhat distressed over an incident that occurred several days ago. Your presence, along with that of Julian Wingate and Lord Fairchild, indicates Perkins has not yet forgiven me.” She crossed her arms and stared at him with compressed lips. “Though well paid for a man in his position, I cannot imagine he would have the fortitude to forgo this sort of money making opportunity. How much?”
The marquess smiled. She looked stunning, as always. The simple pink-striped, high-waisted day gown highlighted the glow of her alabaster skin and neatly showcased her long-limbed beauty. “A gold sovereign,” he reluctantly admitted.
“Ah, you are either more generous or more desperate than my other callers. They paid only half a guinea.”
“It was worth every last cent,” Trevor said honestly. Though he had seen her only a few days ago, he felt this sudden strange longing to be near her. He was in the process of taking a step forward when he realized his intentions. Fighting the pull, he stiffened his spine and rocked back on his heels.
“Perhaps it would be best if you had a word with Perkins,” Trevor suggested. “I’m sure if you spoke to him sternly enough, he would not dare to cross you.”
“And ruin his windfall?” Meredith laughed lightly. “That would be very cruel. At this rate he should be able to comfortably retire back to the country before the year is out.”
“I would never stand for such insolence from a servant,” Trevor declared firmly, though in truth he knew his own valet could be positively tyrannical at times. “You might even consider sacking him. Or at the very least demoting him.”
She smiled, very slowly. “Perkins is employed by my father and therefore answerable only to him. I have neither the authority nor the inclination to terminate his employment.
“Besides, he has done us a great favor by coming to town. He usually oversees our ancestral estate in Yorkshire, which he has often remarked is a far grander position. Perkins has only recently come to London to assume the duties here when our former butler became gravely ill.”
The marquess was not impressed. “I would be concerned about such disloyalty within my household.”
“You should be pleased at Perkins’s display of insubordination. If he was a more scrupulous servant, you would have never gained entrance to my drawing room.”
Trevor could feel the rush of heat in his cheeks. Good lord, was he actually starting to blush? “I suppose it is rather ungrateful to denounce my cohort.” Trevor assumed what he hoped was a wounded, contrite look.
Meredith’s eyes darted knowingly back and forth between his. Trevor resisted the urge to tug at his cravat, which suddenly felt a bit tight and constricting.
“You must tell me, my lord, what urgent matter required your corruption of my staff.”
“Certainly.” The marquess gestured toward the sofa. “May I?”
“If you must,” Meredith replied, biting the words through clenched teeth. She moved aside so he could gain entrance to the center of the room. “I had hoped you would not be staying long enough to require a seat.” He paused, tilted his head back, and gave her a smoldering smile. The backs of his calf touched the edge of the settee, yet Trevor deliberately remained on his feet.
“Oh, for heaven sakes,” Meredith huffed ungraciously and flopped into a chair.
He marveled that her graceful beauty was still evident, even when she was trying to be a bore.
“Why was Julian Wingate here?”
“That is none of your concern.”
Her voice was strong and steady, but he caught the unease quiver in her eyes and realized her bravado was a mask for her nervousness.
“I thought Wingate was engaged to be married,” Trevor said.
“He is, and to a woman of my acquaintance. She is the sister-in-law of my oldest friend, which makes the situation even more awkward.”
“How so?”
Meredith shrugged nonchalantly. “Though the notion might be considered old-fashioned, or even stuffy, I feel his intentions toward me are hardly appropriate for a man about to be married.”
“Do you believe he will renounce his fiancée if you favor his suit?” Trevor scowled as an even more unpleasant thought came to mind. “Do you favor his suit?”
Meredith rolled her eyes. “Mr. Wingate was not offering me marriage.”
> Trevor shot to his feet. Annoyance billowed through him. “He shall answer to me for such insolence.”
“Oh, do sit down, my lord.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “What did you expect? After your little display at the park the other afternoon, I have been on the receiving end of several less than reputable propositions. At the theater last night, not one respectable woman spoke directly to me. It was as if I were invisible.”
“Your reputation?”
“In shreds, I fear. Though it might be restored in time. One can never tell with this sort of thing.” She ran her tongue thoughtfully over her upper lip. “Not that I mind all that much. Truly. I have never overly enjoyed society, though I confess I prefer having the option of rejecting the ton instead of the other way round.
“However, I am very concerned about how this will impact my brothers. Already there are several fathers who have made rumblings that they do not wish their young, impressionable daughters to associate with them.”
Trevor huffed. “Your brothers are both far too young to be considering marriage.”
“Perhaps. Yet I have learned through years of observation that doors closed are seldom reopened. I would not wish that to be my brothers’ fate.”
She lowered her eyes, and he noticed she was fidgeting with the single flounce on the skirt of her gown. Though she was trying valiantly to make light of the situation, it was clear she was unhappy. And regretful.
“Do you know what you need?” he asked, gazing at her steadily. “A little reminder of what landed us in this hornet’s nest in the first place.”
He reached out and curled a stray wisp of blond hair around her ear. She looked up, clearly caught off guard. A wave of tenderness and desire surged though him. Taking her lovely face gently between his hands, he held her head still and pressed his lips upon hers.
He wasn’t sure she would accept his kiss. He felt her stiffen, hesitate, but then, to his great joy and relief, her lips parted to welcome the thrust of his tongue.
The sweet taste of her nearly made Trevor dizzy, bringing forth a rush of pure pleasure to every nerve in his body. He slipped one arm around her back, pulled her closer to him, and continued to kiss her mouth slowly, intimately, until he heard her moans of excitement. She was a passionate creature, and he yearned for her in a way he almost could not understand.
To Protect An Heiress (Zebra Historical Romance) Page 10
