“Of course. There’s a reason Oxford has Landsdowne College, you know. As I said, all Landsdowne men go to Oxford. For a short time in my life, I forgot that fact.”
He stood up abruptly. “I believe I’ll walk the carriage and stretch my legs. Excuse me.”
He departed without another word, and as she watched him go, Belinda suddenly understood the meaning of his offhand comments at the ball.
“No wonder you have no expectations about life,” she murmured, as he walked away. “Why should you if they’ll only be snatched away?”
SHE DIDN’T SEE Nicholas again until just before the train pulled into the station at Clyffeton. He made no reference to their earlier conversation, and neither did she, but when their eyes met, she felt as if a barrier between them had broken down. Odd, she reflected, that a ten-minute conversation could provide a sense of intimacy that even that scorching kiss hadn’t achieved. Very few people, she suspected, knew about Cambridge.
She didn’t have much time to dwell on it, however. Upon their arrival, they found Edie’s driver waiting for them with one of the ducal carriages, and with the help of Trubridge’s valet, the porter secured the luggage, and they were soon on their way to Highclyffe.
Margrave’s estate was a sprawling Italianate structure of limestone and granite, with a dome at the center and wings on either side that seemed to stretch out endlessly into the distance. The grounds consisted mainly of boxwood hedges formed into elaborate, geometric designs, spires of yew meant to resemble the cedars of central Italy, and more fountains, temples, and statues than the palace of a Roman emperor.
“Are we still in England?” Nicholas asked, as they started up the long drive lined with chestnut trees. “Or have we somehow been magically transported to Tuscany?”
Belinda laughed at that, welcoming his propensity for humor at this moment. “Yes, the third duke—or the fourth—I forget which—fell in love with Italy while he was on his Grand Tour. He razed the previous house to the ground and built this.”
“The opposite of Landsdowne, then.” He turned from the window to look at her. “Landsdowne Abbey still has its castle keep, and some of the original fortifications are still in place. It sprawls, like this house, but it wasn’t designed that way. It’s simply been added onto with each generation, and my father, being all about family traditions, has never pulled any of it down, even the parts that are crumbling.”
“And Honeywood?” she asked. “Isn’t that your estate? What’s it like?”
“Ghastly.”
“I don’t believe you. What does it look like?”
“Tudor. It’s all white plaster and red brick, with diamond-paned windows and dark oak half-timbering.”
“But that sounds charming.”
“The outside’s all right. But the interiors are simply awful. You see, upon my parents’ marriage, Honeywood became the depository for all the worst pieces of Landsdowne art and furniture. My father, unlike most of our ancestors, happens to have a certain amount of taste, and since Honeywood was entailed to me through my mother in their marriage settlement, Landsdowne had no compunction about culling the most hideous paintings, sculptures, and furnishings from the other estates and using them to furnish Honeywood. It’s a mishmash of all the worst examples of art from every period since Queen Elizabeth.”
“You’re exaggerating.”
“I’m not.” He laughed, shaking back his hair. “If you don’t believe me, ask Chalmers here. He’s seen the place. Or better yet,” he added, saving the valet from having to express an opinion, “come down to Kent with me and see for yourself.”
Before she could assure him such an invitation could merit only a refusal, and before she could ask any more questions about his estate, the carriage turned into the wide, graveled drive of Highclyffe and came to a halt. Edie was standing with a row of servants in front of the wide stone steps that led to the immense front doors, waiting to greet them. With characteristically American abandon, the duchess came running to envelop Belinda in a hug the moment she was out of the carriage.
“Oh, I’m so glad you could come,” she said laughing, as they pulled apart. “It’s been far too long since you last came to Highclyffe, and I do want you to enjoy yourself.”
“I’m sure I shall.” She gestured to the man beside her. “Edie, may I present the Marquess of Trubridge? Lord Trubridge, the Duchess of Margrave.”
“Duchess,” he greeted her. “Thank you for your kind invitation.”
He bowed over her offered hand, and she gave Belinda a meaningful glance over his head. When he straightened, she bestowed on him her most radiant smile. “Not at all, Trubridge. I’m happy to have any acquaintance of Belinda’s down for one of my parties. Especially a man as handsome as you.”
He laughed, accepting her words with an ease that said he was quite accustomed to such compliments. “You flatter me, Duchess. You’ve some lovely grounds,” he added, successfully diverting the subject. “I hope you don’t mind if I do some exploring while I’m here?”
“Not at all. Go anywhere you like.” She paused and glanced at Belinda. “Would you care for refreshment, or would you prefer to be shown your room?”
“My room first, if you please. Perhaps tea afterward?”
“Of course.” She turned to the servants standing nearby. “This is Wellesley, the butler at Highclyffe. And Mrs. Gates, the housekeeper. I see you’ve brought your valet with you.”
“Yes.”
“Excellent.” She beckoned the butler forward. “Wellesley, will you show Lord Trubridge to his rooms? And Mrs. Gates, take His Lordship’s valet along to his room, if you please. Oh, and have Molly take up her ladyship’s maid? I,” she added, hooking her arm through Belinda’s, “will show Lady Featherstone her room myself.”
“Very good, ma’am.” Wellesley turned to Nicholas. “If you will follow me, my lord?”
The two men turned toward the house, but as Belinda and Edie followed, the duchess slowed their pace.
“Darling,” she murmured once the others were out of earshot, “you’ve been holding out on me.”
“Holding out? I’m not sure I understand your meaning.” But she had a reasonably good idea.
“You told me Trubridge was a rake, but you didn’t tell me he was such a treat to look at.”
Belinda gave her friend a reproving look. “Handsome is as handsome does.”
“Oh, I do hate it when you sound like a minister’s daughter. And given that your own father is such a scapegrace, I can’t imagine where you get it from. Where is the old rascal these days, by the way?”
“Somewhere in Nevada. Silver mines or something.” She waved a hand. “I confess, I stopped listening to his schemes years ago. I’ve seen him make a fortune only to lose it so many times, I’ve lost count.”
“But for all that, you still love him.”
“I know.” Belinda sighed, fearing she had an incurable weakness for the scoundrels of the world. “Inexplicable, but true.”
“Speaking of scapegraces, I expect Trubridge to be quite a success with the ladies this week. I have nine single women coming, and you’ll surely find one to suit. All of them have heaps of money.”
“Who are they?”
“Well, there’s Rosalie Harlow, but I know you won’t want her for Trubridge since Sir William—”
“What?” Belinda stopped so abruptly that she caused Edie to skid on the gravel before she was able to stop as well. “Rosalie’s here?”
“Yes. She and her mother arrived on the morning train. Is that a problem?” she asked in surprise as Belinda groaned.
“It’s not a problem, it’s a disaster! Oh, Edie, why didn’t you tell me you’d invited Rosalie and her mother? You know the girl is one of my clients!”
“Of course I know. As I started to say, I was aware that you’re trying to pair her with Sir William
Bevelstoke, which is why I invited him, too.”
“That’s lovely, but it won’t matter. Don’t you see?”
“Sorry, no. I’m utterly fogged. I thought I was being so clever by bringing her and Sir William together this week, and that you would be pleased. And as for not telling you, I simply forgot. What with packing to come down and all that, sending you a note before I left London completely slipped my mind. But why should it be a problem? Mrs. Harlow assured me you had arranged no fixed engagements for them during Whitsuntide, and I added them to the guest list on the spur of the moment. After all,” she added with a laugh, spreading her arms wide “when you have a house with fifty bedrooms and forty people already coming, what’s a few more?”
Belinda waved aside her discussion of bedrooms. “You’re missing the point. I’m trying to keep Rosalie away from Trubridge. I fear she’s become infatuated with him.”
“Oh! Still, if she prefers him to Sir William, is that really a problem? I mean, Trubridge does need a rich wife, and Rosalie’s certainly rich. And if she likes him better than Sir William, why should you be opposed?”
“I told you, he’s looking to marry only because he needs money. I don’t want that sort of man for Rosalie.”
“Oh, yes, that’s right.” Edie laughed. “You’re trying to match him up with someone awful. Still, I do believe a few of the young ladies coming might be so described. And the county girls are coming for the parties, too, and the fete. Some of them have dowries, I expect.”
Belinda didn’t find any of that very comforting. “Oh, I can’t believe I didn’t write ahead and verify the final guest list with you before we came down! How stupid of me to make such a mistake.” She pressed the heel of her hand to her forehead. “Where are my brains? Ever since I met that man, they seem to have deserted me completely.”
“Indeed?”
She scarcely noticed the duchess’s thoughtful murmur. “Trubridge can’t stay here now, not with Rosalie here, too. He’ll have to leave in the morning. He can surely think of some sort of excuse. A business matter in town? Or sudden illness, perhaps? Food poisoning over the tea cakes?”
“At my house party?” Edie cried. “Absolutely not!”
“Well, whatever the excuse, he has to leave first thing in the morning. As long as Trubridge is around, Rosalie won’t even notice poor Sir William.”
“Having met both of them, I rather agree with you there. Sir William is a nice young man, but compared to Trubridge, he could seem rather dull to a girl.”
“Exactly.”
“But I don’t see why he has to go. As the hostess, I arrange all the amusements, and I can easily send Rosalie off with Sir William to events and games where Trubridge won’t be, so she has little opportunity to speak with him. At dinner, given precedence, they won’t be anywhere near at each other at the table. And if you don’t see any suitable young lady among the other guests to divert him, I’d be happy to step in. It won’t be a hardship for me, I assure you,” she added, fanning herself with one hand.
“Not you, too?” Belinda made a sound of complete exasperation and started toward the house. “Why is it that so many women seem to go all silly and weak-kneed over him?” she asked, hating herself at that moment because she’d done exactly that less than a week ago.
“And that bothers you?” Edie asked, falling in step beside her and once again slipping an arm through hers. “That makes no sense, darling. Surely his good looks make your task easier. You are trying to marry him off.” She paused. “Aren’t you?”
“Of course I am! It’s just that—” She broke off, realizing that her plan to find Nicholas the sort of wife she thought he deserved was falling apart. He was proving to be not quite the villain she’d first thought, and yet, despite his assurances to the contrary, she wasn’t convinced that he would be a good and faithful husband for a worthy girl. “It’s difficult to explain. I just—” She paused and bit her lip, thinking of that kiss. “I just don’t want one of my girls to marry him, then end up heartbroken, that’s all.”
“Well, if money is the only reason he’s marrying,” Edie responded as they entered the house, “perhaps he could be persuaded to a different course.”
Belinda frowned. “I’m not sure I understand you. He’s quite determined.”
“If all Trubridge needs is a woman with money to support him, I’d be happy to step in.”
“Edie!” Shocked, Belinda stopped in the center of the wide, tiled foyer, bringing her hostess to a halt as well.
“What?” The duchess turned toward her, looking surprised. “It makes perfect sense. I’m rich. He’s lovely. This could be the perfect solution all around, and,” she added with a grin, “he wouldn’t even have to marry me.”
“That’s because you’re already married!” Aware she’d raised her voice, she cast an uneasy glance around, but Trubridge must have already gone up, for he was nowhere in sight. Nonetheless, when she spoke, it was in a much lower voice. “I can’t believe I’m hearing you say such things.”
Edie rolled her eyes. “Oh, don’t be such a puritan!” She resumed walking, pulling Belinda with her across the foyer toward the stairs. “What does it matter if I’m married or not?”
“There are so many reason I can’t even list them all!”
“Goodness knows, if Trubridge needs money,” she went on with breezy indifference to Belinda’s words, “I have the means to provide it. I could afford to keep that man in high style.”
Belinda shook her head, striving to find a way to make Edie see how wrong this was. “But if you took a lover . . . you might . . . there could be . . . you could become with child, and you couldn’t even pretend it was Margrave’s. And—” She stopped, feeling her face growing hot. “And I can’t even believe we are having this conversation!”
“Really, Belinda, sometimes you can be such a prude.”
“I am not a prude!”
“Still,” she went on, sailing right past Belinda’s denial, “you do have a point. If I took Trubridge as a lover, and I did become pregnant, I should have to go to Kenya and see Margrave, and finding him could take a bit of work. Lord, I might have to go into the bush, face snakes, spiders, leopards, my husband . . . all manner of wild creatures. And when I find him, he’d have to agree to acknowledge the child—oh, it sounds terribly complicated, doesn’t it? On the other hand . . .” She paused as if considering the matter. “Bedding Trubridge might be worth it.”
“You’re talking nonsense!”
“Heavens, don’t look so stricken, darling! It’s not as if you want him.” She paused, tilting her head, her green eyes sparkling with mischief. “Or do you?”
“No, of course I don’t!” Memories of that kiss rose up, making her lips tingle and her cheeks grow hot, proving her a liar. “I told you before, he’s a client. He’s also an irresponsible ne’er-do-well with a notorious reputation where women are concerned.”
“Perfect for me,” the duchess said, her voice still inexplicably indifferent to any moral considerations. “He won’t break my heart, so you needn’t worry about that. And the bank accounts and hearts of London’s debutantes would be saved from his fortune-hunting clutches. What’s the problem?”
“I—I—” She broke off, just too flabbergasted to continue, and as she met her friend’s gaze, she saw the knowing gleam there, and the truth came to her in a flash. “You don’t want him yourself,” she said accusingly. “You’re just teasing me.”
“Indeed?” A slight smile curved Edie’s mouth, confirming Belinda’s guess. “What makes you say that?”
“Because in all the time I’ve known you, I have never seen you display an interest in any man but Margrave.”
“First time for everything,” she said with a shrug and looked away, running one finger lightly along the bannister of the staircase. “But if you want him, of course, I’ll bow out.”
“I don’t want him!” Belinda could hear for herself how unconvincing she sounded, and it dismayed her to know that despite her resolve to be cool as a cucumber where Trubridge was concerned, she was failing dismally. Unable to tolerate any more of this ridiculous conversation, Belinda yanked her arm free of her friend’s. “More guests will be arriving soon, so you’d best see to them. I can find my own way up. I’m in the Willow Room as usual, I presume?”
“Oh, now don’t go off in a huff,” Edie said, laughing as Belinda turned away and started up the curving staircase of stone and wrought iron. “If you want him, Belinda, why not just admit it?”
“Want him?” Belinda muttered as she stomped up the stairs. “I don’t even like him!”
“My, my,” Edie drawled behind her. “That sounds like famous last words.”
Belinda did not bother to reply but continued up the stairs. After all, with Nicholas’s kiss still burning her lips, what could she say?
THOUGH IT HAD been relatively easy for Belinda to escape Edie’s teasing, it wasn’t so easy to escape what her friend had said.
As her maid flitted about, putting her things away, Belinda washed the travel dust from her face, then sat down with her book. Again, she tried to read, but as on the train, she found one flesh-and-blood man far more fascinating than all the characters in her novel, and she couldn’t read long enough to turn a single page. All she could seem to think of was him, and whenever she did, her lips tingled and her insides quivered. Yes, there was desire there. She couldn’t deny it, but she didn’t understand it. How could she want a man she didn’t respect? A man she wasn’t sure she even liked?
Perhaps this was Fate’s way of testing her character and her fortitude. Belinda heaved a rueful sigh. Or perhaps Fate just had a perverse sense of humor.
“I’m finished unpacking everything, my lady.”
“Hmm?” She gave a start at the sound of Molly’s voice and looked up to find the rotund little maid standing by her chair. “I beg your pardon?”
American Heiress [1]When The Marquess Met His Match Page 15
