My Fair Groom (The Sons of the Aristocracy)

by Linda Rae Sande

  Stanley crossed his arms. “So, you already know who she is?” he guessed with an arched eyebrow. “I should have known, since he is part of your family.”

  Temperance smiled. “Sarah Cumberbatch. She’s from Stretton,” she stated as she watched the newlyweds dance.

  Her husband furrowed his brows. “A baron’s daughter?” he wondered.

  His countess shook her head. “Innkeeper, apparently. And for a commoner, she’s doing just fine down there. I hope for her sake,” she said in a hoarse whisper. “Who else?”

  The earl’s gaze went back to the girl who could have been Cupid’s sister. “That blonde chit who looks like Cupid’s sister,” he said, using his chin to indicate the general direction of where Lady Lily was happily dancing with a young buck.

  Temperance giggled. “She looks like Cupid’s sister because she is,” she teased, wrapping an arm around her husband’s elbow. “Lily Harkins is Gabriel’s illegitimate sister. He has recognized her as such and is seeing to her expenses for the Season. And Lady Samantha is seeing to her come-out since Lily was her lady’s maid,” she explained lightly.

  Stanley Harrington made a face indicating he was impressed. “And Lady Sam is doing quite well at it, judging from how Lady Lily is doing down there,” he commented as he watched the young lady dance.

  “Agreed. Who else?” Temperance wondered, finally spotting her daughter dancing with Alistair Comber. She smiled, her free hand going to her bosom.

  “Him!” the earl said, actually pointing towards his daughter’s dance partner. “I could swear that’s my … my groom,” he said when he finally recognized the man who was leading Julia in the Cotillion. The groom was dancing as if he’d been born to do so!

  Temperance Harrington beamed. “He is,” she agreed happily. “Aren’t they just the perfect couple?” she commented as she continued to watch the two dance.

  “Temperance!” her husband responded in surprise. “He’s the hired help!” he argued, giving his wife a glance. His eyebrows arced north, nearly making their way into his hairline. Why was she grinning so?

  “Look again, darling,” Temperance said as she turned her attention to the earl. “And pretend you don’t see your groom.”

  Stanley Harrington frowned, but he did as he was told. After watching Alistair for a few moments, his eyes widened. “Aimsley?” he finally guessed. “Good God!” he whispered as his mouth dropped open. “I’ve been employing Aimsley’s son as a … as a groom? How in the hell did ..?”

  “He needed the position, darling,” Temperance explained, ignoring his curse. “It seems Aimsley cut him off when Alistair sold his commission.”

  Horrified to hear an officer of the army would do such a thing, Mayfield stared at his wife. “As would I,” he countered with a firm nod.

  Temperance gave her husband a quelling look. “Now, dear, don’t be so hasty. He promised to see to the expenses of one of his men’s widows and her children, and Aimsley refused to honor the promise. Alistair simply did what he had to do to keep him promise to a dying soldier,” she explained with a shrug, her manner suggesting she agreed with the young man’s decision to provide support to the widow.

  Mayfield regarded his wife for a moment. “Oh,” he finally answered. “And I suppose you expect him to make our daughter an offer of marriage,” he said under his breath.

  “Oh, I would,” she replied sadly, shaking her head. “But he won’t. He knows he cannot support her, what with paying another family fifteen pounds a month. But I do so wish he could be my son-in-law,” she sighed, giving her husband a look of pleading.

  The earl turned his attention back to Julia and Alistair, realizing almost immediately he was being manipulated. “I’ll see what I can do,” he muttered before leaning over to kiss his wife on the cheek. “But I do hope you realize I will lose my best groom if Aimsley capitulates.”

  Temperance arched an elegant eyebrow. “Really, darling, don’t be ridiculous,” she countered. “I’m sure you can negotiate something with the young man. Even if his father renounces his decree, Alistair will still need an occupation.”

  Stanley Harrington stared at his wife for a very long time and then finally nodded. “You minx,” he whispered suddenly.

  He took his leave of a rather pleased Temperance and disappeared in the direction of the card room.

  Feeling rather satisfied with herself, Temperance descended the stairs to greet her guests.

  Chapter 44

  Enlightening the Earls, Part 2

  Mark Comber, Earl of Aimsley, stared at the dealer, trying to decide if he should take another card.

  “I wouldn’t,” Lord Mayfield stated as he came up from behind the earl.

  Turning his head to regard the evening’s host, Aimsley dropped his cards in disgust. “I fold,” he announced, frowning as he did so. The earl stood up, giving Stanley Harrington a scowl. “I should probably thank you, Mayfield. I’m down nearly fifty pounds,” he complained as he headed toward a footman bearing a tray of glasses half-filled with scotch. He helped himself to two, giving one to Mayfield.

  “Fifty pounds is more than three months of support for a widow and her children,” Mayfield stated evenly, holding his glass up in a mock salute.

  Aimsley’s brows furrowed together into one long, untidy caterpillar. “What are you implying?” he asked, touching the rim of his glass with his host’s.

  “Your son made a promise and is apparently keeping it, but at the cost of his commission. Because you refused to honor the promise. Is this true?”

  Sighing, Aimsley glanced around, ensuring no one else was within earshot. “It wasn’t a promise he should have made in the first place. He was expecting the earldom to make good on it …”

  “A promise probably made on a battlefield, made to a desperate, dying man with a family. You would begrudge him that, Aimsley?” Mayfield countered, his voice kept low. He was sure his fellow earl wouldn’t miss the menace in his tone.

  Aimsley lowered his head. “No, I suppose not,” he said sadly, letting out a long sigh.

  The Earl of Mayfield couldn’t help but notice Aimsley’s ready response. “Apparently, I am not the only one who has taken you to task about this,” Mayfield commented.

  “The countess is most … upset with me,” Aimsley admitted with a nod. “But, I’ve no idea where my son is …”

  “On the dance floor. With my daughter,” Mayfield interrupted. At the other earl’s look of shock, he added, “He’s been a groom in my stables for the past couple of months.” When he saw the earl’s look change to one of anger, he added, “I didn’t know it was him until this evening. Now, it seems my wife would like him as a son-in-law, but we both know that won’t happen if he thinks he’ll remain cut off from the Aimsley earldom for the rest of his life.”

  Rolling his eyes, Aimsley shook his head. “Christ! He’s as stubborn as I am,” he complained, obviously referring to Alistair. “Lady Aimsley is on the verge of divorcing me over this. I find I am rather fond of her, so, of course, I have every intention of making it right,” he claimed, still keeping his voice low.

  Nodding, Mayfield regarded his glass of scotch. He downed it in one gulp, closing his eyes as the liquor burned the back of his throat. “Then do so, would you?” he pleaded. “For both our sakes? If it helps, you’ll probably gain a daughter out of it,” he added with an arched eyebrow. “Lady Aimsley will appreciate that, no doubt.”

  Thinking of how pleased his wife would be to learn of a possible daughter, the earl gave him a grin. “Consider it done,” Aimsley said before drinking his own scotch. He gave Mayfield a nod and took his leave of the card room.

  Chapter 45

  A Proposal of Sorts

  Although the spring evening was chilly, Julia didn’t seem to notice. Alistair offered his topcoat as they made their way down the flagstones behind the ballroom and ended up in the same garden where they had shared their first kiss.

  Julia shook her head. “I am quite warm from the
dance,” she replied, her hands clasped together at her back. Once they were in the part of the garden where the roses would grow later in the summer, Alistair reached for Julia’s hand.

  “I want nothing more than to kiss you, my lady. For the rest of my days, but …” He heard Julia’s soft inhalation, saw the look of anticipation in her eyes, and in the way she seemed to lean toward him. “But I think it only fair that I do not. You deserve a man who can provide for you in the manner to which you’ve become accustomed …”

  “I have a dowry,” Julia said suddenly.

  “… My father has cut me off …”

  “Because you sold your commission,” she interrupted with a nod.

  Alistair stared at her for a moment. “Yes. How … How did you know?” he asked, one brow furrowed.

  Julia gave a slight shrug. “I spoke with my cousin and his new wife,” she admitted, not able to make eye contact with him just then. “You sold it to raise the funds for the widow you visited last week. I understand. You’ve nothing to be ashamed of, Alistair. Your actions were most honorable.”

  Alistair wondered how much Gabriel Wellingham had told Julia. Did she know he was the son of an earl? “Never the less, they have left me without the means to take a wife,” he argued with a shake of his head.

  The sound of a throat being cleared had them both turning in surprise. Alistair pulled Julia so she was positioned behind him, a move he made by reflex, as if he meant to protect her from an attacker.

  “Excuse me, Lady Julia, but I wondered if I might have a moment of my son’s time?”

  Alistair stared at his father. The Earl of Aimsley was dressed in his finest clothes, one hand holding an ornately carved cane on which he leaned. “Lady Julia, may I present my father, Mark Comber, the Earl of Aimsley,” Alistair stated formally, stepping to one side so he and Julia were side-by-side.

  Julia curtsied to the earl, who gave her a very deep bow despite his apparent need for a cane. “My lady,” he said as he reached for her hand and brushed his lips over her gloved knuckles. “I apologize for the interruption. I do hope, though, that my son is not guilty of accosting you in your own gardens,” he said with a raised eyebrow, one that looked as if it could have been Alistair’s, they were so much alike. “Or any others, for that matter,” he added as he gave his son a glance.

  Julia straightened, her chin raised in a defiant pose. “Not at all. In fact, he would not even kiss me, despite my willingness to allow him to do so,” she stated as if she was offended, moving away from the two men to stand with her arms crossed.

  The earl let out a chuckle and turned his attention to his son. “A bit like your mother, isn’t she?” he said, his tone indicating more approval than not.

  Alistair gave his father a look of uncertainty. “I suppose. Perhaps that is why I find myself wanting to marry her,” he said, as if Julia wasn’t standing just a few feet away. Despite his gaze on his father, he was aware of her turning to stare at him.

  “Then do so,” Aimsley ordered gently. “You’re welcome to return to Aimsley House whenever you wish, although I have it on good authority that Mayfield is not going to be happy about your leaving his stables,” he added with an arched eyebrow. “I’ll leave you to work out the details with him in that regard. In the meantime, I’ll have my secretary resume your allowance and see to the monthly payments to the widow.”

  Alistair stared at his father. What had happened to change his mind? “Why?” Alistair asked before the earl could say another word.

  The older man shrugged. “It’s the honorable thing to do,” he stated simply. After a pause, he added, “And because your mother is rather angry with me.” This last came out in a hoarse whisper. “Life at Aimsley House has not been the same since your return to these shores. If you could … say something to her on my behalf, I would be most appreciative.” He paused, turning to give Julia a meaningful look. “Say, appreciative enough to pay for your wedding trip?” With that, the earl gave them both a bow and took his leave of them.

  Alistair stared after his father, stunned at the man’s sudden change of heart – and his last offer. Another moment and he turned to regard Julia just as the faint sounds of the orchestra could be heard. “We’ve been out here far too long,” he said as he reached for her hand.

  Expecting Alistair to say something different, Julia bit her lower lip with a tooth. “Do you honestly think anyone will notice?”

  Alistair regarded her with a grin. “At some point, I suppose your mother and father will,” he said. “Are you … are you sure you want to marry me?” he asked then, taking hold of one of her hands to kiss the back of it.

  Julia was about to reply when she let out her breath. “Are you … proposing?” she countered, one eyebrow arced up.

  Smiling, Alistair took hold of her other hand and held them both in front of his lips. “I am,” he answered with a nod. “Will you marry me?”

  Julia’s eyes brightened, as if unshed tears covered them. “Yes. Yes I will,” she replied, angling her head so he could kiss her.

  Alistair touched his forehead to hers before taking her lips with his own, bestowing a light, sweet kiss on his fiancée. “May I have this dance?” he asked in a whisper.

  Julia listened for the strains of music coming from the ballroom. The members of the orchestra were still tuning their instruments, but she remembered what was to be played next when they’d left the ballroom. After the Cotillion … “It’s the supper dance,” she said. “A waltz. I … I cannot,” she said with a shake of her head.

  Furrowing his brows, Alistair straightened as if he’d been challenged. “The hell you can’t,” he countered. He placed her hand on his arm and led her up and out of the garden.

  Ignoring his curse, because her mother had said men made them frequently and usually didn’t mean anything by them, Julia hurried to keep up. “But, I don’t have a voucher,” she protested.

  Alistair continued to lead them to the French doors at the end of the ballroom. “Voucher?” he repeated, not taking her meaning.

  “I need a voucher from one of the patronesses at Almack’s. It’s a sort of … permission to dance a waltz,” she explained, nearly breathless from their quick walk back to the ballroom.

  “And, if you don’t have one, what will happen?” he asked, leading them through the doors and immediately onto the dance floor. In another turn, he bowed. Taking one of her hands in his, he placed the other just behind her waist. Before Julia could say another word of protest, they were suddenly floating in wide circles over the floor.

  “I’m not actually sure,” Julia managed to say, finding she suddenly cared little for what the patronesses of Almack’s would have to say. With Alistair’s strong lead and the beautiful music, Julia found waltzing the easiest of any of the dances to perform. Her feet barely touched the floor!

  “And just what do you think you’re doing with my cousin?”

  Alistair took his eyes off of Julia for only a moment to give Gabriel Wellingham a passing glance. The earl seemed a bit alarmed at seeing Julia with him. “Dancing with her. She might be your cousin, Trenton, but she’s my future wife,” he retorted with a cocked eyebrow.

  Gabriel’s mouth dropped open in surprise. “You rake!” he accused with a grin that made its way into a smile.

  Sarah Wellingham, Countess of Trenton, gave Julia her own smile as she was passing under Gabriel’s arm. “Best wishes, my lady,” she offered with a wink before Gabriel had them spinning off in the other direction.

  When Sarah was once again facing her husband, she gave him a grin. “She’s the very best cousin a girl could have,” Sarah commented, delighting in how much her husband seemed to be enjoying the evening. Despite the confident face he showed his peers, she knew he had felt a bit of trepidation at attending the ball. His mother’s cousin was a most gracious hostess, though, and she seemed genuinely happy at Gabriel’s news that he had married. She’d even pulled Sarah into a hug in the vestibule!

  “S
he’s not as pretty as you, though,” Gabriel countered with a grin.

  Sarah blushed at his words, figuring at least three couples in their vicinity overheard his claim. “So, you’re not regretting taking a commoner as your countess?” Sarah wondered, nearly breathless from the dizzying dance.

  “Never,” Gabriel said with a shake of his head. “Although, I admit, I regret not having done so earlier,” he said as he steered them off the dance floor and to a space behind a potted palm. The smooth transition from leading her in the waltz to escorting her to the palm with one of her hands held in his made it look as if he had practiced the move. “Gabe would be my heir,” he explained when he noticed her quizzical expression.

  “True,” Sarah agreed with a nod. “But I’m looking forward to having … how did you put it? An heir and a spare,” she claimed with an arched eyebrow.

  Gabriel’s own eyebrows lifted. “I do hope there will be a daughter or two in the mix,” he replied before pulling her into a kiss, making his intentions for later that evening very apparent.

  When Gabriel finally ended the kiss, Sarah leaned back and dared a glance around them. No one seemed to notice their illicit behavior, or if they did, they were polite in not staring in their direction. “Perhaps we should take our leave then,” she suggested.

  Smiling, Gabriel escorted his wife out of the ballroom.

  Chapter 46

  Marriage to a Groom

  “My father wasn’t joking when he said he wasn’t about to allow you to leave his stables,” Julia commented as she watched her husband lead a yearling from its stall toward a ring of fencing he’d set up in the alley behind Mayfield House.

  Alistair gave his wife of three months a grin. “He was not. But he knows it’s where I belong,” he replied, allowing the yearling to buck and kick a few times before he shortened the lead and whispered something soothing to the filly. “I figured I would be an old man before I could afford this many horses and a stable as well-equipped as Lord Mayfield’s.”