“Grayson, Draper. I’m glad to be here.” Redgrave moved into their circle and looked first at Genevieve. “Lady Genevieve, you are looking lovely, as usual.” He bowed over her extended hand.
He turned to Mary. “Lady Mary, I had hoped you would be attending. Is Her Grace with you, as well?”
“Yes. She is resting in her room.” Thankfully her voice came out normal, despite her dry mouth. This was ridiculous. Even when she’d been fascinated with Claremont—before he’d turned into such a scoundrel—she had never had this reaction to the man.
“I hope she is not ill?” His piercing gaze had the butterflies in her stomach dancing a lively cotillion.
She offered him a slight smile, hoping the flush she felt on her face was not visible to all. “No, merely tired from the trip. She will be joining us for dinner.”
He continued to stare at her. “Ah. I shall plan on wishing her a pleasant visit.”
“I am sure she would like that.”
“As will I.”
Silence descended on the group, until Grayson said, “Well. It seems the rest of us have been forgotten, eh?”
Mary’s gaze swung from Redgrave to Grayson, who regarded the two of them with a puzzled expression. Whatever am I thinking? By dinnertime rumor would have them practically betrothed and headed to Gretna Green.
…
Redgrave snapped his attention away from Mary. What the devil is wrong with me? Just the sweet scent of her, of lemon and roses, along with her smile, had been enough to mesmerize him…again. He was a man, grown. Once married and now widowed. Not a randy youth panting after the milkmaid. He needed to get himself under control. Certainly he could spend time with the girl without imagining all sorts of ways he could kiss her.
“I could use a cup of tea,” Mary said and turned to Lady Genevieve. Had he imagined it, or was her face flushed?
“I believe I will join you.” Redgrave walked with the two women to where a footman staffed a tea cart, convincing himself he could spend time with Mary and not be affected by her. There was an array of small sandwiches and tea cakes to go along with the tea. He took his cup in hand and passed on the food.
“Mother has tables set up on the north side of the patio.” Genevieve led the way to a quieter area with several tables, only two of them occupied.
“My lord, I am glad you were able to join us. Mother was so very happy to have a nice group to celebrate my sister’s betrothal.” Genevieve settled in her seat as Redgrave held out Mary’s chair for her. “She has many games and entertainments planned. I think it will be a lovely party.”
“I am honored to be included.” He took a sip of tea, trying very hard not to stare at Mary. The gentle breeze on the patio set her wisps of loosened hair dancing. The pale pink day dress she wore displayed the tops of her enticing breasts to perfection. The sparkle in her eyes and slight flush to her cheeks had him wondering if she was as affected by him as he was by her.
“My lord, the games Mother is planning this evening require partners. May I request you partner me?” Lady Genevieve managed to refrain from giggling, much to his relief.
“Of course, my lady, I will be honored.” Except he would not be honored, because he would much rather partner with Mary, no matter what the entertainment was.
Lady Genevieve clapped her hands. “Wonderful. I am sure we will be a formidable force.”
He’d always liked Lady Genevieve, but disliked her forward manner. One of the reasons, he supposed, that she had remained unmarried. She didn’t have a difficult face to look at, and her form was acceptable, but there was something about her that reeked of over-eagerness.
He glanced at Mary, who was attempting to hide her smile behind her teacup. “And you, Lady Mary. Who will be your partner this evening? Will you also be a formidable force?”
“I am not sure, my lord. This is the first I’ve heard of the games. No doubt one of the other gentlemen will be willing to take me on.”
He choked on his sip of tea. Just the thought of “taking Mary on” left him imagining things that had nothing to do with parlor games and everything to do with bed games. Best to get his mind away from those thoughts.
They chatted amicably for a while, Genevieve blatantly flirting with Redgrave. Mary stood and brushed her skirts. “If you will excuse me, I believe I will retire to my bedchamber. It seems I, too, am a bit weary from our journey.”
“I will accompany you, my lady. I want to be sure my valet has finished his unpacking.” It was a poor excuse, to be sure, but the only one he could come up with.
“Mother would not be happy if I disappeared, so I believe I will rejoin the others on the patio. I will see you both at dinner.” Lady Genevieve gave a slight curtsy and headed to the area they’d just left.
Redgrave extended his elbow toward Mary. The bright smile she gave him as she rested her palm on his arm warmed him more than the early summer sun.
They walked into the house and up the stairs to the bedchambers, comfortable in their silence. “I am this way,” Mary waved toward the east wing as they gained the second level.
“Ah, Lady Billingsley very cleverly put the gentlemen in the west wing.” He turned toward the east wing. “I will see you safely to your door.”
Mary laughed, the light tinkle so very different from Lady Genevieve’s giggle. “I doubt I will be accosted in the corridor, my lord.”
“Redgrave,” he reminded her. “We are well beyond the ‘my lord and my lady,’ are we not?”
She dipped her head in acquiescence. Once they arrived at her door, she turned to him. “Thank you for the safe passage. I will see you at dinner.”
Unable to help himself, he cupped her chin in his hand, running his thumb over the smooth, porcelain skin of her cheek. “I look forward to it. Very much.” His head descended and he took her lips in a tender kiss. “Until later.”
He turned on his heel and headed to the west wing.
…
Mary entered the bedchamber as Baxter was just finishing unpacking. Thank goodness the maid hadn’t come out the door when Redgrave had her in his arms. If this kept up, they were going to get caught, and Drake would likely send her off to a convent.
Once Baxter left, Mary climbed onto the bed and turned onto her back, staring at the canopy overhead. Running her tongue over her lips, she still tasted Redgrave. She sniffed the air, sure she could still smell his scent. Maybe she was merely going crazy. The man was driving her to Bedlam.
Three hours later she knocked at her mother’s bedchamber door.
“Come,” her mother called.
The dowager duchess sat at the dressing table, Baxter finishing up her hair. “Mother, you look lovely.”
She smiled. “Thank you, my dear. However, I am much too old for ‘lovely.’ You, on the other hand, are lovely.”
Mary brushed Baxter’s hands away and fastened her mother’s necklace, looking at her in the mirror. “Don’t be ridiculous. You are not old, and you are, in fact, lovely.”
“Those days are far behind me,” her mother said as she tugged on her gloves. “Shall we join the others for dinner?”
They met several more guests headed to the drawing room to wait for the dinner announcement. Mary immediately joined Genevieve, who stood with several of the younger guests, including Prudence and her betrothed.
“May I offer my felicitations, Lady Prudence? And you as well, my lord?”
“Thank you.” Prudence looked anything but happy.
On the other hand, Lord Stephenson smiled warmly as he took her hand and bowed over it. “Thank you, Lady Mary. We are very happy you were able to join us.”
They chatted for a while, then Mary and Genevieve moved away. “Whatever is wrong with your sister?” Mary leaned in close as they walked about the room.
“I have no idea. Stephenson offered for her, and Father accepted. Apparently, Prudence had her eye on another gentleman—who she won’t name—and didn’t want to be forced into marriage with Stephens
on.”
Mary settled on a chair near the fireplace, arranging her skirts. “I don’t know him very well, but he seems like a pleasant man. He is titled, wealthy, and fairly good-looking.”
“Prudence is being stupid. I would marry Stephenson in a heartbeat.” Genevieve sighed. “If only he had offered for me instead.”
Mary knew the moment Redgrave entered. The very air in the room seemed to electrify. It amazed her that no one else noticed.
“Redgrave is quite nice looking. I’m surprised you two seem to be friends. Isn’t he the one who ran out on one of your sisters?” Genevieve studied him as he made his way across the room, stopping to greet several people, but always moving forward toward them.
“Yes. He was betrothed to Abigail. I honestly believe there is more to the story than he is saying. But in any event, my sister is happily married to a rector from Addysby End. She helps in the school they’ve started for the village children, and has twin boys. And Joseph adores her.”
“So it all worked out in the end.” Genevieve spoke to Mary, but kept her attention focused on Redgrave.
He was certainly worth looking at. Taller than most of the men in the room, his well-cut evening jacket hugged his broad shoulders, and his black trousers clung to muscular legs. The stark white perfectly tied cravat contrasted with his tanned skin. He smiled broadly as he left the last couple he’d been chatting with and approached her and Genevieve.
“Good evening, ladies.” He bowed over Genevieve.
“Good evening, my lord,” she simpered.
He turned to Mary, who extended her hand. He took it, and she could feel the warmth through both her glove and his. He kissed her hand, then slowly let it go, dragging his hand away, as if caressing her. She felt the need to whip her fan open and wave it vigorously in front of her face.
“Dinner is served.” The short, rotund butler who had greeted them at the door stood at the entrance to the drawing room. The ladies and gentlemen began to line up in proper order. Mary found herself partnered with Lord Beamer, a board member from the Orphan Asylum. He was a friendly, open man, about twenty years her senior, and a long-time widower.
They found their seats, with Mary between Beamer and Lord Draper. Redgrave was several seats away, next to Genevieve and another young lady who was unknown to her. At least with him not right next to her she would be able to concentrate on her dinner partners.
Her mother sat at the end of the long table, next to Lord Billingsley, happily chatting away. The footmen began to serve and pour wine, and Mary’s attention was soon taken up by Beamer and Draper, who kept her entertained with lively stories throughout the dinner.
Every time she glanced in Redgrave’s direction he was watching her. At one point he raised his wine glass in salute. She returned the gesture, then continued her conversation with Lord Beamer.
Once the final course had been enjoyed by the guests, Lady Billingsley stood and announced it was time for the ladies to retire to the drawing room for tea so the gentlemen could enjoy their port.
The ladies drifted into the room, gathering in small groups, sipping tea. After accepting a teacup from the footman, Mary joined her mother and Lady Billingsley.
“Ah, there is your lovely daughter now, Evelyn.” Lady Billingsley smiled warmly at her. “You are looking quite sparkling this evening. Can it be one of the gentlemen has caught your attention? I noticed Lord Redgrave could not seem to keep his eyes off you all through dinner.”
Mary groaned as her mother glanced in her direction, her brows raised in question. “Is that right, Gertrude? Do tell.”
Chapter Twelve
The next morning, Redgrave joined the rest of the party who were traveling to the nearby town, Ilmarsh Bridge. The women were expected to enjoy a morning of shopping, while the men planned to investigate ruins of an ancient castle, followed by ale and companionship in the local tavern, The Ale and Grain House.
As always, once he joined the group, he scanned the area for Mary. She stood with her mother and two other ladies. Thinking this was as good a time as any to approach Her Grace, he strolled in their direction.
“Good morning, ladies.” He bowed and accepted the dowager’s extended hand. “Your Grace.”
“Redgrave.” Her smile was a tad warmer than the last time. However, she did cast a speculative glance at Mary, which set him a bit on edge. Had there been gossip?
He gave a small bow to Mary and the other two ladies. “I assume you will be enjoying a morning of shopping?”
“I hope to make a trip to the bookstore. Lady Genevieve tells me there is an excellent one in town.” Mary’s eyes glowed with excitement, like a child awaiting a favored treat.
“Indeed, there is. Browen’s Shop of Books and Music is well stocked for such a small town. The owner is a former professor at Cambridge and brought his love of books with him when he moved to Ilmarsh Bridge. I am sure you will enjoy browsing the shelves.”
“Have you been there before, my lord?”
Redgrave smiled inwardly at Mary’s formal address, but obviously any other term would have elicited more than speculative looks from the dowager. “Yes. I one time visited Lord and Lady Billingsley when my carriage broke down not far from here. One can also get decent food at The Ale and Grain House, where I believe the gentlemen will be gathering after our visit to the castle ruins. I assume the ladies will be joining us there, as well?”
“I believe that was Lady Billingsley’s plans, although I am not too sure about visiting a public tavern,” Lady Margaret, one of the other guests, said. She looked beyond Redgrave’s shoulder. “I believe the carriages have arrived to transport us.”
Redgrave bowed once more. “Enjoy your morning, ladies.”
The gentlemen piled into two carriages, the ladies into three others. The ride to the town was quick and easy. Since it had been at least a few days since the last rainstorm, the roads were quite passable.
Traipsing around castle ruins with the other men might be of interest, but Redgrave would much rather have spent his morning in the bookstore. He enjoyed spending quiet, peaceful times browsing bookstore shelves, discovering new books, flipping through older, beloved ones. Additionally, that was where Mary was headed.
Mary.
Her charming day dress of woven Chinese silk with hand-painted cornflowers brought a slight tint of blue to her eyes. He’d noticed on other occasions her eyes seemed to change colors depending on what she wore. One more thing to set her apart from other ladies.
“Redgrave, I hear your father-in-law is putting together a group of men to buy a diamond mine in Africa.” Grayson puffed alongside him as they climbed the steps of the castle. The man should spend less time with his fork and knife and more with a boxing partner at Jackson’s.
Redgrave stared straight ahead. “That is what I hear.”
“Are you in?” Grayson pulled out a handkerchief and mopped his face.
“No.”
“Why not? It sounds like a good opportunity.”
He still had not decided what to do with the information the runner had given him. He hated having his friends and acquaintances taken in by Rumbold’s scheme, but the man’s threat still hung over his head. He couldn’t afford false rumors about his likes and dislikes in the bedroom to surface just as he searched for a wife.
“I find my funds are tied up right now, so I won’t be joining in.”
“Too bad. I could use the blunt, myself. M’mistress demands more trinkets each day. I should probably give her her congé, but she’s such a talented little thing.” He nudged Redgrave in the ribs. “Especially that mouth.” He smirked, leaving Redgrave wanting to roll his eyes at the man.
After more than two hours of climbing over, remarking on, and studying the ruins, Lord Billingsley suggested the men retire to the alehouse for refreshment. “I’m sure the ladies will be ready for a repast after spending our money.” He let out with a loud guffaw.
Most of the ladies had settled on the long benc
hes in the common room, with teacups and pots of tea in front of them. Several of the older women looked decidedly uncomfortable. Mary and Lady Genevieve were not among their number. He wanted to ask after her, but at the same time didn’t want to bring attention to his interest. After ordering a glass of ale, he took his seat near Stephenson.
“How is the wife search going?” Stephenson swallowed a sip of ale. “Several promising ladies here this week.”
“I agree.”
“Ah, but I think you have your eye on one particular lady.”
Indeed he did have his eye on one particular lady, but nothing would come of that. Redgrave shook his head. “Not yet. It is still early in the search.”
“Just be sure the lady agrees before you approach her father.” Stephenson’s lips tightened. “Otherwise you end up where I am.”
Surprised at the bitterness in the man’s voice, considering they were there to celebrate his betrothal, Redgrave said, “And that would be where?”
Stephenson gripped his glass of ale with two hands and stared at it. “Betrothed to a woman who is not happy. Lady Prudence believes I am only interested in marrying her for her dowry.”
Since that hadn’t seemed like a question, Redgrave sipped his brew and waited for Stephenson to continue.
“I don’t want, or need, the girl’s dowry.” He lowered his voice. “I just bought my way into a diamond mine in Africa. I’ll be rich as Croesus before long.”
Redgrave made a choking sound and began to cough as the ale caught in his throat.
“Are you all right, man?” Stephenson viewed him with concern and slapped him on his back.
He nodded and reached for his handkerchief to wipe his eyes. Another member of Society caught in Rumbold’s web of deceit. As each day passed, he grew more determined to do something about the scheme. He could not let Rumbold ruin other lives as he had his.
The Earl's Return (Marriage Mart Mayhem) Page 11
