The Earl's Return (Marriage Mart Mayhem)

by Callie Hutton

  Chapter Seven

  If Redgrave didn’t get away from Miss Stoneridge’s constant prattling about nonsensical things, he would commit the unpardonable faux pas of telling her to shut up, a vulgar expression he’d heard from an American friend. But appropriate in this instance. The girl was duly impressed with herself and apparently spent hours staring in her mirror, noting all her perfect features. Time not spent there was devoted to assessing her wardrobe and pondering difficult decisions such as which ribbon would look best with which gown.

  He was still perplexed by Lady Mary’s reaction to her friend and the girl’s betrothed. He didn’t know Claremont very well. They hadn’t socialized in the same circles. He’d asked around after today’s incident in the park, and he’d learned Claremont had been on the Continent for a couple of years. The only possibility could be Lady Mary and Claremont had been courting and she was merely surprised her friend had ended up engaged to the man.

  Except he was sure it was panic he’d seen in her face. Something about the man had frightened her. Although she was really no concern of his, he would look out for her welfare when Claremont was present.

  With a great deal of relief, Redgrave bid Miss Stoneridge good evening as Lady Breckenridge stood and announced the ladies would retire to the drawing room so the gentlemen could enjoy their port. It would take some time for the ringing in his ears to subside.

  “I hear Rumbold is putting together a group of investors in a diamond mine,” Lord Danvers announced to the group at large.

  Several men questioned Danvers on it while Redgrave attempted to look nonchalant and sip his drink.

  “Are you involved in this project?” Mr. Stevenson nudged Redgrave.

  “No.” His stomach muscles tightened, and he wished himself far away from the curious glances that swung to him at Stevenson’s question.

  “It sounds like a good investment. I’m surprised your father-in-law didn’t offer you a spot.”

  “I’ve only recently come from the country. I believe this is a project he has been working on for some time.”

  “You might want to see if you can still get into it. I’ve invested a considerable sum myself.” Redgrave groaned inwardly when his host made his announcement.

  “Perhaps.” He hated sitting silent while these men enthused about something he believed was little more than a swindle.

  “…her husband preferred the company and attention of young boys.”

  No. Once again Rumbold held the upper hand. But this time Redgrave would not run away to the country. He had to find a way to stop the man without unleashing the scandal the cad had threatened.

  Luckily, the conversation moved to horses and racing, and soon Breckenridge suggested they join the ladies.

  Redgrave’s eyes immediately sought Lady Mary, who sat chatting with Lady Alice and Miss Stanton, both of whom were seeking husbands this year. Moving in their direction, he passed the Dowager Duchess of Manchester, who glanced at him as he approached. He bowed to her. She hesitated for a moment, then nodded a greeting, her lips in a tight smile.

  “Good evening, ladies.” He bowed to the three women, trying his best not to stare too closely at Lady Mary. They chatted for about ten minutes, Miss Stanton and Lady Alice each vying for his attention. They were both attractive women, thankfully not as boring or insipid as Miss Stoneridge. However, nothing about either one drew him. They were pleasant and knowledgeable. Both had been raised to marry well, run a household, bear children, and engage in the typical ton life. Exactly what he’d been thinking of when he’d made his trip to London to find a wife.

  Before he had seen Lady Mary.

  He continued to sense unease in her. With Claremont not among the guests, he thought she would be more relaxed, but perhaps her disquiet came from the fact that he’d witnessed her agitation earlier.

  Lady Breckenridge moved to the center of the room and clapped her hands. “Ladies and gentlemen, tables have been set up in the other room for those who would enjoy cards.”

  Several people began moving toward the door, and Redgrave was happy to see the dowager duchess among them. With her eagle eye in the other room he might get a chance to speak with Lady Mary privately.

  “Since most of the card players are among the older guests, perhaps the younger set would enjoy a game of charades.” Lady Breckenridge eyed their little group. “Lady Mary, you are always the first to offer to play the game.”

  Lady Mary grinned. “Indeed. Let us split into two teams. Shall we do the gentlemen against the ladies?”

  “No. The ladies are so much better. We can’t let them have the advantage,” Lord Montrose said.

  Murmurs of agreement had them splitting up, Miss Stoneridge grabbing him by the arm and announcing she would be in whatever group Lord Redgrave was in because he was so intelligent. In any event, he ended up on Lady Mary’s team, with Miss Stoneridge gabbing away while they waited for the slips of paper to be made ready for the game.

  They played several rounds of what Redgrave had always considered a silly game but, not wanting to be a bad sport, he went along with the nonsense. Just watching Lady Mary enjoying herself was enough to keep him entertained. She glowed with excitement as she guessed a clue, her tongue running over her plump lips when she was trying to discover what the player was attempting to say.

  Once the group had gone through all the clues, a tea tray was carried in by a footman. Instead of partaking of the refreshments, Lady Mary slipped out the terrace doors, giving Redgrave the opportunity he’d been waiting for all evening.

  He laid his cup down and headed to the door. Miss Stoneridge stepped in front of him. “My lord, wasn’t that the most fun ever?”

  Groaning inwardly, he stopped and chatted with the girl for a much longer time than he would have liked. Eventually, Danvers joined them, and Redgrave used that as a reason to excuse himself. He kept his eyes straight ahead before anyone else could stop him. He opened the terrace doors and stepped into the darkness.

  Several torches had been lit, casting shadows over the grounds. He studied the area for a while until he saw Lady Mary sitting on a stone bench under a bay laurel tree, several steps from the terrace. Her head tipped back, she seemed to be studying the scant stars in the night sky.

  …

  Mary knew the minute Redgrave left the house and stepped onto the terrace. It hadn’t taken him long to spot her and head in her direction. She didn’t want to talk to him about Claremont. She still hadn’t gotten over the shock of learning he was back from the Continent and betrothed to her childhood friend. She thought—indeed had hoped—he would never return to remind her of her foolishness.

  “Enjoying the stars, Lady Mary?” Redgrave’s silky voice floated over her like warm honey. The man did have a wonderful tone.

  “Yes. The drawing room was growing stifling, and I thought a breath of fresh air would do me well.”

  He settled alongside her. “Have you studied the stars?”

  She shook her head. “No. Mother hired excellent tutors for us as young girls, but astronomy was not part of our lessons. Then when we attended finishing school, our teachers were more focused on subjects that made a young lady more appealing to a husband, such as singing, water colors, embroidery, and dancing.”

  He offered that slow smile that made her stomach quiver. “And do you suppose that is what a husband is looking for in a wife?”

  “No.” She laughed. “I always thought there were more important things a wife could be to her husband than what they taught us.”

  “Such as?”

  “Smart, with an understanding of the world, the ability to keep track of household accounts. She would also need to be able to handle the servants in a kind but firm way. Make a pleasant and welcoming home for her family. Things like that.”

  He studied her for a long time, then looked at the sky. “I see Ursa Minor up there.”

  “Where?”

  Redgrave pointed. “See the four small stars that look like
a box?”

  “No.”

  He leaned in closer and raised his arm. “Look here. See the four stars?”

  Trying earnestly to see what he pointed to, she was distracted by his nearness, the scent of bergamot and brandy coming from him. He turned to see if she was looking in the correct place, and she turned toward him at the same time. Their lips were mere inches from each other. Her heart began to pound, and a tingling started in her lower belly.

  His eyes not leaving her face, Redgrave’s arm slowly moved down, his hand cupping her cheek. Her breathing hitched, and she swallowed. His head descended, and he lowered his eyelids. Mary closed her eyes and felt the first touch of his lips on hers. Soft, warm, moist. He brushed his lips back and forth before resting on her mouth where he nipped her lips, then settled into a slow, drugging kiss.

  This was nothing like she’d ever experienced before. Her only knowledge of kisses had come from Claremont before he’d tried to force himself on her, leaving her shaking and angry. She quickly pushed that memory to the back of her mind, enjoying the feel of Redgrave. He was surprisingly gentle, yet the pressure of his mouth stirred her to kiss him back with reckless abandon. Raising his mouth from hers, he gazed into her eyes. He ran one knuckle down her cheek. “Need I apologize?”

  Unable to speak, she merely shook her head.

  “Good. Because I wasn’t finished.” This time his kiss was urgent and exploratory. He teased her lips with his tongue, then swooped in as she gasped. Tentatively, she joined him in a dance of tongues. Her thoughts scattered as feelings very new to her swept her away on a cloud of passion. Her body came alive, her nipples hardened under her gown, and a slight dampness gathered between her legs. Yes, this was markedly different.

  He moved her head into another position that allowed him to take the kiss deeper. She succumbed to the deliciousness of his skill. All her senses were focused on Redgrave and the sensations he drew from her. If there were sounds in the garden, she never heard them, so absorbed was she in his nearness as he drew her closer to his body.

  When his hand wandered from her face to her neck, then her collarbone before resting on her breast, alarms went off in her head. For a moment she sat very still as he fondled her, running his thumb over her nipple.

  Wrenching herself away, she pushed at his shoulder and panted. “Stop.”

  Taking a deep breath, he ran his palm down his face. “I am sorry. Not very gentlemanly of me. Please accept my apology.”

  Still trying to get her breathing under control, she edged back until he grabbed her arms. “Careful. You are about to fall off the bench.”

  What had she been thinking? Nothing could ever exist between her and this man. Or her and any man, for that matter. Although Claremont’s kisses had never moved her like this, she knew full well where the deliciousness of kisses and touches led. Pain and humiliation. Never again would she make that mistake. The vulgar name Claremont had called her when she’d fought off his advances and used her knee to stop him had stayed with her for months, leaving her to wonder if the entire episode had been her fault. The final blow had come when he’d told her the only reason he had attempted to seduce her—as he had called it—was for her dowry.

  She hopped up and smoothed her skirts. “I am returning to the house now.”

  Redgrave stood and tucked a curl behind her ear, wincing when she pulled her head back. “Go on ahead. It will not look proper if we return together.”

  Now that she had her senses back, she was mortified at what she’d allowed him to do. Thankfully, no one had come outside to look for either one of them. And Mother! What would she say had she caught them? Nothing that she wanted to hear, that was sure. How could she be so foolish again and with Redgrave? Hadn’t she learned her lesson?

  Hoping there were no telltale signs on her face of what she’d been doing in the garden with Redgrave, she nodded in his direction and hurried away.

  …

  Redgrave watched until she was safely in the house. He ran his fingers through his hair and cursed. What the devil had possessed him to do such a thing? Lady Mary had possessed him, that’s what. She had gotten under his skin since he’d first seen her across the ballroom in the pale yellow gown. Before he knew who she was and how far away from her he should stay.

  He needed time to let his body calm down. The last thing he wanted was to appear in the drawing room with an erection. Kissing Lady Mary was everything he’d thought it would be, and more. Despite his vile reputation, he would never put his hands on a lady as he’d done just a few minutes ago. Young ladies of station were always to be treated with respect and honor. They were not to be pawed in dark gardens mere feet from a crowd of guests. That he’d forgotten all of that while holding Lady Mary in his arms, spoke to how mesmerizing he’d found her.

  More than ready for the evening to be over, he returned to the drawing room and found his hostess. A quick glance showed Lady Mary and her mother at the front door, awaiting their carriage. He joined them and asked for his carriage to be brought around. Lady Mary looked decidedly uncomfortable. Not sure if it was their recent dally, or the fact that her mother was present, he decided to take the matter in hand.

  “Your Grace, may I offer my humble apology for any distress I caused you, your family, and Lady Abigail?”

  At first the dowager duchess stiffened, then she offered him a slight, however, genuine smile. “I am not one to hold grudges, Redgrave. My daughter is happily settled in the country, with a man who adores her, and twin boys. I am sorry to hear of your wife’s passing, and wish you well in the future.”

  Redgrave bowed, moved by her graciousness. “You are too kind, Your Grace.”

  “Your Grace, your carriage has arrived.” The butler turned from where he’d kept watch at the door.

  “Thank you.” The dowager and Lady Mary descended the stairs on the arm of the butler.

  Making peace with the Manchester family had not been part of his plan when he had decided to travel to London to find a bride. If he’d given it any thought, he would have decided it would be an impossible task. That it had happened, and so easily, reminded him once again what a splendid family they were. And how horrible that his actions had caused them such pain.

  As he entered his carriage, he instructed the driver to bring him to White’s. A brandy before bed would be just the thing. Hopefully, he wouldn’t run across another “investor” in Rumbold’s scheme.

  …

  Several days later, Redgrave arrived at the door of Lady Simpson, the young widow he was escorting to the theater. She was a promising candidate for his countess. A tad older than the newly arrived debutantes, she was attractive, smart, and witty. If he were to accomplish his task by the end of the Season, he had to get Lady Mary out of his mind and begin to seriously consider other women for whom he could offer.

  Sitting across from each other, they shared a lively conversation on their way to Drury Lane, and he felt more confident that she might be a good match for him. As they strolled through the lobby on their way to his box, he immediately scanned the area and landed on Lady Mary. The first time he’d seen her since the Breckenridge dinner party.

  The deep blue of her gown was a shade that only a woman with a few Seasons behind her could wear. The bodice was low enough to display to perfection the creamy mounds of the tops of her breasts. She stood with Mr. Ambrose, her arm linked with his, as they chatted with another couple he did not recognize.

  All the warm feelings for Lady Simpson he had experienced on the trip to the theater vanished in an instant. He found himself comparing her to Lady Mary, which was exceedingly unfair, but nevertheless, there it was. Without conscious thought, he steered Lady Simpson toward Lady Mary and her group.

  “Good evening.” He bowed slightly to her and the woman standing across from her. He gloried at the warm smile of welcome from Lady Mary.

  “Good evening, my lord,” Lady Mary curtsied, then she turned and addressed the couple. “Redgrave, allow me to intr
oduce Viscount Benson and Lady Benson. My lordships, the Earl of Redgrave.”

  “My lady, it is a pleasure.” He nodded at Benson. “My lord.” He turned to Ambrose. “Ambrose.”

  “Redgrave.”

  Redgrave patted Lady Simpson’s hand on his arm. “I assume you know Lady Simpson?”

  Lady Mary beamed another smile at her. “Yes. It is so nice to see you, Lady Simpson. May I present Lord and Lady Benson, and Mr. Ambrose?”

  After everyone offered their greetings and murmured how pleased they were to see one another, the group grew silent. Always the gracious hostess, Lady Mary spoke up. “Are you familiar with The Merchant of Venice, Lady Simpson?”

  “No. I am afraid not. I have heard of it, of course, and am quite looking forward to seeing it this evening. Have you seen it before?”

  Lady Mary laughed, her eyes sparkling. “Actually, my sisters and I, along with my brother and a few friends, put on a production of The Merchant of Venice when we were children. It was fun, but I doubt we gave Mr. Shakespeare his due.”

  “And what part did you play, Lady Mary?” Redgrave could almost see her on the stage, a young girl, full of life and excitement.

  “Please do not laugh, but I guess my sisters saw me as evil. I was given the part of Shylock.”

  “I am sure that role suited you fittingly.” Redgrave said.

  Lady Mary raised her brows. “Are you insinuating I am greedy, my lord?” The humor in her countenance made him smile.

  “Not at all. ’Tis just that, by far, Shylock was one of Shakespeare’s most memorable characters. I can see you playing that part well.” For a moment as they studied each other, it seemed as though there was no one else in the theater. Just the two of them.

  Lord Benson cleared his throat. “I believe the play is about to begin.”

  “Yes. So it seems.” Redgrave turned to Lady Simpson. “We should take our seats.” He nodded to the two couples. “Enjoy the play.”