The Scoundrel Who Loved Me

by Laura Landon

  “Lady Aglaia will attain her majority on the sixth of July. You might want to send her a gift,” his secretary suggested.

  “Go through the jewelry and select something suitable.” God knew he had enough trinkets left over from his previous wives.

  “Yes, your grace.” Kentwell straightened from making notes.

  “That will be all.” Bolton was tired of this marriage business and dealing with young ladies. Nevertheless, he needed an heir, and that was the only way to get one. “I’ll be at Mrs. Peterson’s house and won’t be back for dinner.”

  His mistress had been wroth with him for not telling her he was marrying, again. He patted the diamond necklace he had in his pouch. That should make her happy. If not, he’d find something that would.

  . . .

  The next morning at breakfast, Mama and Meg insisted that Laia and her sister accompany them to the Pump Room. “It is much more than drinking the water. Almost everyone in Bath goes to see people and be seen.” Meg said. “There are also some ladies about your ages that accompany their mothers or grandmothers. It would be nice for you to become acquainted with more people.”

  Laia could not argue with that. Sarah was the only friend they had. “Will I have to drink the water?”

  Euphrosyne scrunched up her lips. “I have heard it is horrible.”

  “You are not required to drink it,” their mother said in a mild tone. “But you will appear provincial if you cannot discuss how bad it tastes from personal experience.”

  Laia and her sister exchanged looks. That answered that question. Neither of them would wish to appear any more countrified than they already were.

  She dressed for the excursion in a new walking gown of pale blue. Her betrothal ring had been returned from the jeweler’s late yesterday and was on her dressing table. Yet she had not even tried it on. Picking it up, she thought about wearing it, but set it back down. It was huge, and ugly, and did not go with anything she owned. She hated feeling childish, but there was something about the ring she could not like. Perhaps she would try it on tomorrow.

  The four of them strolled to the Pump Room. It was already crowded, but Meg and Mama were hailed by a woman sitting with another matron and two younger ladies.

  “Come, I shall introduce you to Mrs. Butterworth and Mrs. Applebee, and their daughters, Caroline and Margaret. Caroline Butterworth is about your age, Laia, and Margaret Applebee is just a bit younger.

  “Did they not have a London Season?” Euphrosyne asked.

  “Not everyone can afford a Season in Town for their daughters,” their mother said. “Both ladies are wives of military men. Mrs. Butterworth’s eldest daughter is engaged to a baronet whom she met here earlier this year. And Miss Applebee is the youngest of five daughters. The others have all married.” Mama smiled. “Bath is not such a bad place to find a mate.”

  Euphrosyne glanced at their mother, a considering look on her face. “No, it is not.”

  Once again, Laia wanted to say something to her sister about not getting her hopes up, but Mama had already begun introducing them to the other ladies.

  Laia and Euphrosyne soon discovered that they had much more in common with Caroline and Margaret than Laia originally thought. Except for the butcher shop, the ladies had been to all the stores she and her sister had visited yesterday.

  They discussed a massive and hideous bonnet decorated with peacock feathers all of them had seen in the window of one of the milliners that an older woman was now wearing.

  Euphrosyne asked Miss Appleby if her sisters’ matches had been arranged. “No, Papa said there was no point in trying to marry any of us off to men we might not like.”

  “Indeed,” Miss Caroline added. “My father said that he would not be responsible if we were unhappy in our marriages.”

  “Laia will be marrying soon as well,” Euphrosyne said. “To Bolton.”

  The other ladies looked at Laia and she wished her sister had never mentioned her betrothal.

  “The Duke of Bolton?” Miss Applebee asked.

  “Yes.” Laia did not wish to discuss a man about whom she knew almost nothing.

  “Is he not quite elderly?” Miss Caroline asked slowly, as if afraid to broach the topic.

  “He is in his sixties.” For the first time, Laia acknowledged to herself that she wished he was not quite so old.

  “Still,” Miss Applebee said, “he is a duke. How did you meet him?”

  “She has not met him at all.” Euphrosyne glanced at Laia and grinned. “Our father arranged the match.” Her sister took a sip of the water and made a face. “I think it is quite medieval.”

  If Laia didn’t die of embarrassment first, she was going to murder her sister. “Euphrosyne—”

  “Laia, come stroll with me,” Meg said, rising.

  I will not run away. “Not yet, if you please.” She turned to the other ladies. “I wish my father had not arranged a match with a gentleman I do not know, but it is my duty to obey him.”

  “Well said, Lady Laia.” Mrs. Butterworth frowned at her daughter. “Caroline, we must be going.”

  Meg took Laia’s arm while her mother spoke in a low voice to her sister.

  “I do not know why she would have brought up my betrothal,” Laia said to her sister-in-law. “She has never done anything to humiliate me before.”

  “Is that how you see being betrothed to Bolton?” Meg asked.

  Was it? Laia had no say in the matter, and no one, even her new friends, appeared to be happy for her. Bolton had not even written to her. And she had not liked the things he had sent to her.

  She gave herself a shake. “I don’t know how I feel about it. Perhaps, I’m simply nervous.”

  Her sister-in-law nodded, but did comment. “You still have time.”

  “That”—Laia pointed out—“is what others have said, and it is not true. Whether I wish to marry Bolton or not, I am stuck with him.”

  An older lady in a pink turban glanced at them, and Meg nodded, then gave Laia an enigmatic smile. “We shall see.”

  When they arrived home, Euphrosyne hurried up to her. “Forgive me. I did not mean to embarrass you. I just wanted you to understand how unsuitable this marriage is.”

  “That was not the way to go about it.” Laia heaved a sigh. “And what would you have me do? If I do not marry him, it would affect you and our sisters.”

  “I don’t know.” Her sister gazed at her, concern clouding her eyes. “But someone must be able to help.”

  “What must happen is for you to cease worrying about what cannot be changed.” She took her sister’s arm. “I shall be fine.”

  Yet she did not feel fine, and she could not put her finger on the reason she had become so uneasy about her coming marriage. The duke had promised to visit her before their wedding. She would refuse to allow herself to worry until there was a reason to be concerned.

  . . .

  Fortunately, the next time they met up with the Butterworths and Applebees, the subject was not mentioned and she and her sister were able to form friendships with the other ladies.

  During the week before the assembly room ball, Laia and Euphrosyne scarcely had time to think. They were invited to dinner by both Mrs. Applebee and Mrs. Butterworth. Mr. Paulet invited their new friends as well as Lord Markville and his family to a picnic on Lansdowne. Mama, Euphrosyne, Meg, Hawksworth, and Laia drove over to visit the children. They were having a wonderful time exploring their new environs.

  The evening before the ball, Sarah hosted a dinner. “It is the first time I have given an entertainment,” she confided to Laia. “I do hope it all goes well. Unfortunately, I do not know any gentleman that I can ask to make up my numbers.”

  In the end, it had not mattered. The evening was a great deal of fun. Laia wondered what it would be like to host her first dinner. Unfortunately, when she thought of the gentleman standing next to her in the receiving line, it was not the Duke of Bolton, but his nephew, Mr. Paulet.

  At al
l the events, Mr. Paulet flirted with Laia. She was learning to flirt back, and having much too much fun. In more quiet moments—when they were walking or riding—they discussed their families, carefully avoiding any mention of the duke. And despite her resolve she found herself drawn to him more and more. It was difficult to remember she was betrothed to a man who had not even bothered to meet her when Mr. Paulet was being charming and attentive.

  There was also more shopping to do, fittings for new ball gowns, and morning visits. If this was what the end of the winter season in Bath was like, she wondered how much more there was to do in London.

  Yet by the night of the ball, Laia had still not heard from her betrothed. And the irritation that had begun the first day she’d attended the Pump Room grew. She was starting to wonder if she could be civil to a man who had so studiously ignored her.

  CHAPTER NINE

  The evening of her first ball finally arrived, and Laia stared at herself in the mirror, scarcely believing it was her. Her new gown was the color of the aquamarine ring her mother had given her for her last birthday and trimmed with bands of brilliants along the neck, sleeves and at the hem. Henderson, her new maid, had done Laia’s hair in a complicated style of braids and soft ringlets.

  Laia could not help but wonder what Mr. Paulet would think, then chastised herself for it. She should not be thinking about a gentleman other than her betrothed. Still, it would be pleasant to have a man look at her like her brother looked at her sister-in-law.

  “Laia,” Euphrosyne opened the door without knocking. “Look at me! Ooooh, look at you!”

  “I do think I look well and so do you.” Laia smiled. Her sister was a vision in a pink gown and a white petticoat. Seed pearls adorned the neckline and sleeves. “You are lovely.”

  “You’re beautiful.” Her sister carefully bussed her cheek. “All the gentleman will want to dance with you.

  “You as well. Do you think you’ll be sitting along the sides of the room?”

  For the first time, Euphrosyne’s eyes did not meet Laia’s gaze. Well, this was not the time to pry, but to enjoy themselves.

  “No,” her sister said. “I think our family will make sure we have partners for every dance.”

  Meg strolled into the room carrying two small posies, one with yellow flowers and the other with pale pink roses in filigree silver holders. “I do not know why gentlemen insist on sending flowers to be carried to an event. Although, I suppose you can put some of them in your hair, if you like.”

  Gentlemen? “Which gentlemen?” Laia asked, eying the flowers.

  “Lord Markville”—Meg handed the yellow bouquet to Euphrosyne—“and Mr. Paulet.” She gave the other one to Laia. “I must say they were either amazingly percipient or they went out of their way to discover what you were wearing.”

  She clutched her flowers to her breast. He had actually given her flowers and meant for her to carry them. “I could not ruin the arrangement.”

  “Nor could I,” her sister agreed.

  “In that case, you must carry them,” Meg said. “If you are ready, we must dine. The balls here begin much earlier than anywhere else I’ve been. Damon has ordered the chairs to arrive in an hour.”

  Laia had wondered what it would be like to ride in a sedan chair. Yet, she’d felt sorry for the carriers who had to hold the handles of the chair of an extremely heavy woman they’d seen the other day. It was a marvel they hadn’t dropped the lady.

  “Will you ride with Hawksworth?”

  “No, it is the custom for gentlemen to walk alongside the chairs. If they are healthy enough to do so, that is.”

  When they reached the hall, she glanced around and finally found her mother in a day dress. “Why aren’t you dressed?”

  “I have a little bit of a headache.” Mama held out her hands. “I am sure I shall feel better in the morning. Before I go to my room I wanted to see you and Euphrosyne. You are both so beautiful. I wish I could be there to see your success.”

  “I wish you could as well.” Laia hugged her mother, thinking she seemed sad somehow.

  “I’m glad you came to see us in our finery,” her sister said, kissing Mama on her cheek. “We shall tell you all about it in the morning.”

  “I shall look forward to hearing all about your first ball. Now get something to eat or you will be starving before tea.”

  “I should bring a cane,” Hawksworth grumbled. “And use it like Lady Bellamny uses hers.”

  Laia shook her head. “Who is that?”

  Meg chuckled. “Lady Bellamny is an old friend of my mother’s. She uses her cane to intimidate young men.” Meg gazed lovingly at Hawksworth. “I do not think you will have any difficulty making sure the gentlemen behave.”

  “I am famished,” Euphrosyne said, moving toward the dining room. “I was so excited I could not eat luncheon.”

  Soup and a cold collation was set out for them as well as salads. “I do not know if I can eat a thing now.” Laia took a sip of the soup and changed her mind. “On the other hand, this is excellent.”

  “Is there anything we should know about the ball?” her sister asked.

  “I think you already know everything you need to know,” Meg said reassuringly.

  “I think this is an excellent time to review the rules,” Hawksworth said as Meg cast her eyes to the ceiling. “Do not speak to anyone to whom you have not been introduced. Do not go anywhere on your own. If a gentleman does not behave as he should, you will tell me immediately. If you turn down some poor fellow, you may not dance again. Do not dance with any man more than twice. And if either Meg or I decide you should not be introduced to a gentleman, you will not argue.” He gave them a stern look. “These assemblies are not as exclusive as Almack’s, and there are some men in town who are visiting relatives because they cannot afford to remain in Town.”

  “Is that what Frank calls taking a repairing lease?” Laia asked.

  “Precisely.” Her brother nodded.

  “From what I understand,” Meg said, “the evening will begin with minuets and after tea there will be country dances.”

  “It is a shame there are no waltzes.” Hawksworth cast her a sultry look.

  “We are acting as chaperones this evening, my love. We should not dance in any case.”

  “Very true. I cannot possibly perform a minuet and watch over my sisters at the same time.”

  “There is also a matter of watching over the items they cannot have with them when they are dancing.” Meg rose signaling for the rest of them to do so as well. “Tea will be served in the drawing room in just a few minutes.” She glanced at Laia and Euphrosyne. “You should fetch your things.”

  They rose from the table. Laia and Euphrosyne went upstairs to collect their gloves, fans, reticules, and posies.

  “Are you nervous?” Euphrosyne asked as they ascended the stairs.

  “A little, but only because I do not want to make a mistake.” Laia hugged her sister. “There is nothing to worry about. We will both have a wonderful time.”

  After tea, they walked down the front steps, and Laia marveled at the sedan chairs. They were much more elegant than the ones she had seen around town. And tall. Even ladies with feathers in their hair could ride in them without worrying they would be bent or broken. Not that she had ever seen anyone actually wear feathers, but they were in all the fashion plates.

  She was so busy looking at the equipage she jumped a bit when she heard a deep voice next to her, “You will be the most exquisite lady at the assembly rooms this evening, my lady.”

  Turning, she smiled. “Mr. Paulet, I did not expect to see you until we arrived at the Upper Rooms.” In fact, she was sure he would be accompanying some other lady. But he had called her exquisite, and she had forgot to answer. “Thank you.”

  He placed his hand under her elbow. “How could I miss escorting you to your first entertainment?”

  What to say to that? Instead of replying she smiled again, and he smiled at her. Even u
nder the streetlights, she could see his eyes warm and a thrill of pleasure skated through her. “I am glad you are here.”

  “As am I.” He placed his hand under her elbow. “Come allow me to assist you into the chair.”

  “Yes, please.” She had just gotten settled when she recognized Lord Markville’s voice. Goodness, he must be here to escort her sister.

  Had Euphrosyne known he was accompanying them? And did it truly matter? Lord Markville was perfectly eligible. Father might even approve of him. After all, he had wanted Lady Sarah to marry their brother, Quartus. Yet, if she was correct, and Father only wanted the land, then that is how he’d pick Euphrosyne’s husband. And knowing her, there would be trouble.

  “You are being quiet,” Mr. Paulet said as he strolled next to the chair.

  “I was just getting used to the motion,” Laia lied. Now was not the time to worry about her sister. “It is different from anything I have experienced.”

  “I would imagine it is. Although, much better than attempting a carriage on these hills or walking in slippers.”

  “I would think keeping one’s skirts from getting soiled would be more of a problem. One can always wear pattens to keep slippers and hems clean.”

  “Sensible lady,” he said in a tone of approval.

  In what seemed to be no time at all, she was being carried into a large hall where the chair was set down, and Mr. Paulet opened the door.

  He held his hand out to her. “My lady.”

  Oh, my! She felt like a princess. “Thank you, sir.” Taking his hand, she stepped out of the chair. “This is extraordinary. Imagine a room just for the chairs.”

  “Well, one could not expect ladies to get out on the street.” He grinned as he placed her hand on his arm. “Not in Bath.”

  “Yes. I have heard it’s a little stuffy, but it is the most exciting place I’ve ever visited.”

  “Even in London those who still use chairs will be carried inside.” Mr. Paulet placed her hand on his arm. “Let us discover how you like your first entertainment.”

  They joined her brother, sister, Meg, and Lord Markville. Stealing a look at Euphrosyne, Laia noticed her sister was looking extremely pleased with herself. “How did you like the sedan chair?”