The Earl's Return (Marriage Mart Mayhem)

by Callie Hutton

  His eyes snapped, apparently no longer thinking the chit amusing. “No. I was more concerned with the nine-year-olds.”

  Apparently not at all understanding Redgrave’s sarcasm, the stupid girl said, “Well that is a bit of a relief. I would hate to see you go through the mess of dealing with the magistrate over someone like that.”

  Mary’s glance met Redgrave’s once again, and for a moment it was almost as if they were the only two people in the room who understood. She both relished and feared that connection. However would she get through the rest of the Season until Redgrave selected his bride and announced his betrothal? Just the look that had passed between them had her lady parts tingling and her heart thumping.

  “My lady, Lord Claremont has arrived.” Lady Alice’s butler stood at attention in the doorway.

  “Oh, thank you,” Jeannette said, her eyes bright with excitement.

  The last meal Mary had eaten threatened to make a reappearance at her feet. Her breathing increased, and her hands were clasped so firmly in her lap that her fingers turned white. Under lowered eyelids she slid a quick glance at Redgrave who studied her carefully, his brows furrowed.

  Jeanette preened as Claremont entered the room, his scrutiny settling first on Mary, and then his betrothed. “My dear, I have arrived as promised to take you on a carriage ride.”

  Claremont seemed to have sucked all the air out of the room. Mary felt as though she could not get a deep breath and wondered if her maid had laced her stays too tight. Why had the man returned from the Continent, and how in heaven’s name had he ended up betrothed to Jeanette?

  “Excellent, my lord.” Jeanette stood and turned to Mary. “Please say you will come with us for a ride.”

  Again the black dots began to appear in her eyes, and she felt herself slipping. “I am afraid I cannot…”

  “Oh, you must,” Jeanette said. “Please. I would like for you to get to know Claremont. He tells me you barely knew each other before he left for the Continent.”

  The bile she’d been fighting at the back of her throat threatened to erupt all over Jeanette’s shoes.

  “I am so sorry, Miss Belkin, but Lady Mary promised me her company in my carriage this afternoon.” Redgrave stood and looked kindly on Jeanette as he moved across the room to stand next to Mary.

  Mary swallowed, her mouth dry. “Yes, that is true, Jeanette. I did promise Redgrave.” At this moment she didn’t care that Redgrave saw her distress and had come to her rescue once again. She did not want to spend time alone with Jeanette and Claremont. She linked her arm through Redgrave’s extended arm, practically hanging on for dear life.

  Claremont moved farther into the room. “We must be off, my dear. I have an engagement later today.”

  Jeanette clasped Mary’s hand. “Why not the both of you join us?” She regarded Claremont. “There is room, is there not, my lord?”

  Claremont gave Mary a slow perusal that turned her blood to ice. “Yes, my dear. There is plenty of room for Lady Mary and her…” He turned to Redgrave, his brows raised.

  “Friend,” Redgrave growled.

  The entire room had grown silent as if watching a play. The tension between the leading characters snapped in the air. Only Jeanette seemed oblivious to it all. “See, then. It is settled. We can all fit into Claremont’s carriage.”

  “Lady Mary? I leave the decision entirely up to you.” Redgrave was giving her a way out. However, the pleading in Jeanette’s face and, with no good reason to refuse without raising questions she preferred not to have raised, she capitulated.

  “Very well, I will be delighted to join you and Claremont in a carriage ride.” Thank God her mother had drilled excellent manners into her from the nursery. All she really wanted to do was spit in Claremont’s arrogant face and storm from the room. Hopefully, no one noticed her voice shaking. At least she had Redgrave to buffer the strain.

  Once again he had come to her rescue.

  She retrieved her cape from the butler as Redgrave extended his arm. She laid her hand there, knowing full well he could feel her whole body shaking. Trying very hard to control herself, they descended the steps to the carriage.

  Redgrave drew her close to him as Claremont helped Jeannette into the vehicle. He turned his back to block her from Claremont’s view. He reached out and placed his knuckle under her chin, raising her face to him. “You do not have to do this. You can plead a headache, and I will escort you home straightaway.”

  How she wished to do that very thing. To be whisked away and settled comfortably in Redgrave’s carriage. She would even face his questions to avoid this encounter. “No. I cannot disappoint Jeanette. Besides, she would very well find it strange, and I don’t want to give her reason to question me.” She tried her best to give Redgrave an encouraging smile but feared she fell short. Perhaps if she could keep Jeanette talking she could ignore Claremont until the blasted ride ended.

  Once they were all settled, with Jeanette directly across from her and Redgrave by her side glaring at Claremont, the carriage moved forward. Claremont slouched in the corner, his long legs sprawled in a most ungentlemanly manner. It was too bad the man had a driver. It would have eased her mind somewhat if his attention had been taken up with the driving himself.

  Mary continued to shake until it caught Jeanette’s notice. “Are you cold, Mary? I believe Claremont has a blanket, do you not, my lord?”

  “Indeed I do.” He cast his fake smile in her direction. “I would be happy to have you use it. We don’t want you to catch a chill now, do we?” He reached under the seat and withdrew a blue woolen blanket.

  Redgrave yanked the blanket from him and spread it over Mary’s lap. Once it was draped around her, he covered her gloved, ice-cold hands with his warm one. If Jeanette or Claremont noticed his one hand underneath the blanket, no one mentioned it. If Mary hadn’t been so upset by the entire ride she would have been more concerned about the possible scandal.

  “Redgrave.” Claremont snapped his fingers. “Aren’t you the one who was betrothed to Lady Abigail?”

  “Yes,” Redgrave said through gritted teeth.

  Claremont tilted his head, his face a false expression of innocent curiosity. “But you—never married her, did you?”

  Jeanette looked back and forth between the two men, confused. Mary stared at the passing scenery, the other carriages rolling along, the occupants calling out to one another, everyone enjoying their time outdoors. Hopefully, one turn around the park was all she would have to suffer. At least the warmth from the blanket and Redgrave’s hand had helped to ease her shaking.

  He rubbed his thumb over her knuckles, easing her tension, but sending signals to parts of her body she preferred to ignore.

  “No. I married Lady Priscilla Benson.” Redgrave’s words were as sharp as any butcher’s knife.

  “Ah, yes. Now I remember.” Claremont rested one booted foot over his knee and leaned back in the carriage. “Strange how you and Lady Abigail’s sister are friends.”

  …

  Lady Mary squeezed Redgrave’s hand even as he wished to withdraw it and use it to pummel Claremont’s face. The arrogant bastard had been pricking at him since he’d offered to accompany Lady Mary on the ride that she so very obviously had not wanted to take.

  Whatever had occurred between Claremont and Lady Mary had been enough to terrify the girl, and that was all Redgrave needed to necessitate protecting her. His only memory of the man was Claremont’s part in a very wild group of rakes who had run rampant over the ton. They had been known for drinking, huge gambling debts, questionable house parties, flouting their mistresses in public, and other activities that had crossed the line of propriety.

  “Will you be attending the Ashbourne’s ball tomorrow evening?” Miss Belkin, who still seemed oblivious to the tension in the air, addressed Mary who finally dragged her attention away from the passing scenery.

  “Yes. I am attending.”

  “Wonderful!” Miss Belkin almost jumped
up and down on her seat. How the devil had this innocent, charming young lady ended up betrothed to this man who had such a damaging past and who had done something to Lady Mary that he could only guess at?

  Underneath the blanket, Lady Mary linked her fingers with his. He felt as though she was hanging on to her emotions with a fine thread. It was time to end this ride and get her far away from her antagonist.

  “I say, Claremont, would you mind having your driver return us to Lady Alice’s house? I have an appointment this afternoon, and if I remember correctly, you mentioned one as well.”

  Claremont regarded him lazily. “Yes. I do.” He took Miss Belkin’s hand in his and raised it to his lips. “Do you mind, my dear, if we cut our ride short? You know I hate to run off, but business cannot wait.” He kissed her hand and stared into her eyes in such a way that Redgrave wanted to roll his eyes like some poorly mannered chit.

  “No, not at all, my lord. I understand.”

  Claremont turned and instructed the driver to return to Lady Alice’s house. The tightness in Mary’s body eased somewhat once the carriage left the park.

  Redgrave jumped from his carriage and helped Lady Mary down. She smiled briefly at Miss Belkin. “It has been a pleasure spending time with you, Jeanette. I am afraid I was not much of a companion today, however. I seem to have developed a megrim.”

  “Oh, you poor dear, I am so sorry to hear that. We will just have to catch up tomorrow evening at the Ashbourne’s ball.”

  “Yes. Well, thank you again.” Lady Mary hurried away from the carriage and up the steps to Lady Alice’s house.

  “Where are you going?” Redgrave reached her and grabbed her hand.

  “I…I don’t know. I thought I would… Oh, dear. I’m not too sure what I am doing.”

  The poor girl was extremely flustered. He took her by the arm and led her back down the stairs. “I dismissed your carriage when we left with Claremont. I will escort you home in mine. Wait here until I have it brought around.”

  She nodded and licked her lips.

  Although it was probably not wise to arrive at Manchester House with Lady Mary in his carriage, there was no alternative. She was still distraught and he wasn’t about to put her into a hackney by herself. With any luck he could have her up the steps and into her home before anyone noticed.

  “You must think me a total ninny.” Mary rubbed her palms up and down her arms as the carriage moved forward.

  She was still quite pale and shaking.

  He had a strong urge to pull her from her seat across the carriage and plop her onto his lap and surround her with his warmth until her body relaxed. “I think no such thing. However, what I do think is much worse, and unless you enlighten me as to what exactly happened between you and Claremont, I might be forced to pay Manchester a visit.”

  She drew in a sharp breath. “No. I don’t want my brother involved.” She looked out the window. “It was so long ago, it matters not at this point.”

  “Again, I must disagree with you. The state the man’s presence reduces you to matters a great deal.”

  Redgrave leaned forward and took Lady Mary’s hands into his. “Mary. Did Claremont…did he…did he rape you?”

  She shook her head. “No. He…well, I guess you could say he tried, and came very close to doing just that. We were alone in the gazebo at a house party and he…well, he…did things that made me uncomfortable. When I told him I wanted to return to the house he…” She took a deep breath. “I would rather not say. But I used my fingernails and knee to dissuade him. He called me a horrid name and said the only reason he even bothered with me was for my dowry.” She looked at him with tears in her eyes. “I escaped to the house, and fortunately no one saw the state I was in. The bodice of my gown was torn, and my hair a mess. I had my maid pack my things, and we left within the hour.

  “Soon after that he left for the Continent and I had hoped never to see him again.”

  Redgrave’s entire body tensed. Claremont was a dead man. To dishonor a lady in that manner was appalling, even for one of Claremont’s ilk.

  “Did you not tell your brother?”

  “No. I was embarrassed at allowing myself to be put into such a situation and feared what Drake would do if he found out. He would have probably called the man out and ended up dead or fleeing the country. He has a wife, and children. No. I never told anyone.”

  “Ah, sweetheart.” He reached out and pulled her to him, wrapping his arm around her shoulders as her body shook with sobs, her face pressed into his chest. He fumbled in his pocket and withdrew a handkerchief that he handed to her. What had the man been thinking? No one in his right mind would ever try to compromise a duke’s sister. Claremont and his crowd were of the absolute worst reputation, but even for him that was stepping way over the line. He was fortunate Manchester hadn’t been told anything.

  The anger rushing through him had him wanting to hunt down the jackass and beat him to a pulp.

  Mary sat up. “I can’t go home looking like this.”

  He had to agree. Her eyes were swollen, her nose red, and her skin pale. And she’d never looked more beautiful to him. So innocent, so broken. Another surge of rage twisted his gut. “I will instruct my driver to continue on for a little while until you compose yourself.”

  She nodded and moved away from him. He immediately felt the loss of her body, of the softness pressed against him. The protectiveness that overcame him was frightening. He wanted so badly to be the one who would protect her from harm. Who would be the one to show her that intimacy between a man and woman could be wonderful and pleasurable. But that right would belong to her husband.

  Something he could never hope or deserve to be.

  Chapter Ten

  “My lady, His Grace has requested you join him in the library when you are finished with breakfast.” The young parlor maid delivered the message to Mary as she wiped her mouth and took a final sip of tea.

  “Thank you.”

  It was the morning after the disastrous carriage ride with Claremont and Jeanette. After riding around for another half hour, Redgrave had delivered her to her home and gone on his way. They’d made small talk during that time, most likely Redgrave realizing if he brought up the subject of Claremont it would upset her again.

  Once she was safely soaking in a hot bath followed by a tray in her room, she sent her regrets to Lady Donovan that she would not be attending her soiree. Mother had visited her room to make sure she was all right, but Mary had dismissed her with a wave of her hand.

  “Go and enjoy yourself, Mother. I just need a quiet evening at home.”

  After kissing her on the head, Mother had departed, leaving Mary to enjoy her solitude. Instead of reading the book that sat on her lap most of the time, she’d thought about Redgrave. Even though he had yet to tell her what had happened that made him run out on Abigail, she knew in her heart there had to be a good reason for what he’d done.

  Was she merely trying to excuse his behavior because of the feelings that seemed to be growing for the man? Pouring out the Claremont story to him had been cathartic. Somehow, she knew he didn’t blame her, even though, at the time, Claremont’s harsh words had indicated she was at fault.

  Curious about her brother’s summons, she left the breakfast room and knocked on the library door. Hopefully, it was not a problem with Penelope and her confinement.

  “Come in.”

  She never entered the library that she didn’t think of her beloved father. The late duke had been such a presence in all of their lives. He had adored his wife and children and had spent as much time with them as he could. He had been loving and caring, and had made her childhood one of immense pleasure.

  Six years ago he’d left for one of his usual rides, was thrown from his horse, and had broken his neck. In some ways, the family still hadn’t gotten over his absence. Now her brother sat in his stead, although his unexpected assumption of the title had caused problems for him at the beginning. Once he’d
fallen in love with his duchess, his uncertainty about his role had vanished.

  Drake sat behind his desk. He looked up at her entrance, and she was surprised to see him scowl at her. Generally, he was of a moderate temperament.

  “Good morning, brother. Have I done something that will require me to peel potatoes in the kitchen?”

  Drake didn’t smile, and waved at the chair in front of his desk. “This is a serious matter, Mary. Have a seat.”

  She settled on the edge of the chair, her hands in her lap. The only thing she could imagine that had set him off was Redgrave. But Mother had been busy in the card rooms at each event they’d attended and, since Drake remained close by Penelope’s side, he could not possibly have heard gossip at a ton event.

  Her brother stood, clasped his hands behind his back, and made his way around the desk, facing her. “It has come to my attention that you have been spending time with Lord Redgrave.”

  She blew out a breath. Despite his current reclusive lifestyle, apparently he had heard. As she studied him glaring at her, she wondered exactly what he knew. The kiss? The carriage ride home yesterday when she’d sobbed on Redgrave’s chest? Both of them unchaperoned in the carriage? A definite inappropriate situation.

  She decided to sidestep the issue. Let him lay his cards on the table before she gave him too much information. “Yes. As a matter of fact, Redgrave and I are both on the committee for the Orphan Asylum. I assume there is no problem with us both working for the betterment of the children?”

  He narrowed his eyes. “Not at all. Though I must admit I am not happy about the fact that he is here in London seeking a wife and is now pretending he is a gentleman who wants to help the underclass.”

  “He is not pretending.” She bristled at his words. “He is genuinely interested in the children. He even paid for three hackneys to transport them to a picnic last week.”

  Drake leaned his hip on the edge of the desk and studied her. “Is that right? Why are you championing him?”