The Earl's Inconvenient Wife

by Julia Justiss

  ‘But Mrs Moorsby doesn’t ride,’ Giff pointed out.

  ‘Damn—drat and blast!’ Temper said, her cheeks reddening. ‘I completely forgot. I suppose I could send Miss Henley a note, crying off—’

  ‘No, I promised Godmother I would see the Season through and I mean to do so. Although I would appreciate it if, hereafter, you remember to ride in the morning.’

  ‘Leaving afternoons and a few evenings free for your Parliamentary work.’ She sighed. ‘Once again, I apologise for embroiling you in the social Season. I shall hope to be discredited sooner rather than later, so that Papa releases me from its toils as well!’

  The carriage slowed, indicating they had reached the Vraux town house. ‘I’ll climb down quietly, so as not to disturb Mrs Moorsby,’ Temper told him.

  ‘Very well, but I’ll see you to the door—and don’t even try to tell me it isn’t necessary. A gentleman never leaves a lady standing on the kerb like an abandoned parcel!’

  She was chuckling at the description as the footman handed her down, Giff resisting the urge to perform that courtesy himself. Better he refrain as much as possible from subjecting himself to the intoxicating effect of her touch, since courtesy required that he offer his arm while she climbed the entry steps.

  Ah, and sweet temptation it was, the feel of her hand clasping him. How much more dizzying would it be were she to wrap those slender hands around his shoulders, lean that tempting body against his?

  Beating back those thoughts, he pulled his arm away as soon as they reached the landing and summoned up a smile. ‘I’m glad you enjoyed your first evening—somewhat. Shall I stop by to collect you tomorrow afternoon?’

  She sighed. ‘I suppose you must. And I can’t even promise you a good gallop as a reward for giving up your afternoon!’

  With her head angled up at him, lamplight playing over the gold of her hair, outlining her nose and full, soft lips against the night gloom, his mind jumped to the sort of gallop that would truly be a reward. ‘Perhaps another time...for the gallop,’ he said disjointedly, trying to rein his thoughts back into line.

  ‘Yes, another time. Until tomorrow, then.’ With a smile, she disappeared behind the door the butler had opened for her.

  He stood for a moment on the landing, letting his erratic pulse settle. It was too late to back out on his offer to help with her Season. He’d simply have to find a way to better control not just his actions, but his mind as well. He couldn’t end every encounter where some act of courtesy required him to touch her by thinking of kissing...and more.

  No matter how much he regretted it, kissing her was forbidden.

  * * *

  The following afternoon, Temper rode to the park with Giff, her groom trailing behind. ‘I’m rather glad we are not going to gallop,’ she told him, glad also that she was meeting Miss Henley and would send him off. The disturbing effect he’d had on her dressed in evening clothes hadn’t abated a jot now that he was dressed for riding. And her foolish pulse had sped, making her light-headed for a moment as he handed her up into the saddle before they set out.

  ‘Glad you can’t gallop?’ he repeated. ‘Are you ill? Should I summon a physician?’

  She made a face at him. ‘I won’t mind so much riding a job horse if we’re to be limited to a decorous trot. Although this beast seems acceptable, there’s no way he could match my Arion at the gallop and I would be sure to miss him.’

  Giff tilted his head, seeming to have just noticed she wasn’t riding her usual gelding. Was he as distracted by her presence as she was by his?

  ‘Where is Arion?’

  ‘He picked up a stone in his shoe yesterday. Nothing serious, Huggins said, but he thought it best that the bruised hoof be rested for a time.’

  ‘Probably also knowing you’d be hard-pressed to refrain from a gallop if you rode Arion,’ Giff observed with a grin.

  ‘You slander me!’ she protested. ‘I would never do anything to put Arion at risk.’

  ‘And for your safety, too,’ Giff continued, his face a careful blank. ‘With a sore hoof, he might suddenly stumble or rear up, and land you on your ear.’

  ‘Me, land on my ear?’ she echoed indignantly. ‘You know I’m never unseated! Surely you’ve seen me ride often enough...’ She let the sentence trail off as he burst out laughing. ‘Wretch! You deserve some vile punishment for maligning me so!’

  ‘I beg pardon!’ he said, holding up his hand. ‘But I couldn’t resist. Your eyes blaze such blue fire when you’re angry.’

  She grinned back, her irritation evaporating in the welcome warmth of their familiar camaraderie. This was the Giff she knew—teasing, cajoling and amusing.

  ‘I concede,’ he continued. ‘I have seen you ride often enough to know you maintain perfect control of your mount, even one as spirited as Arion, and even dressed in the ridiculous full skirts fashion now decrees.’

  ‘I should hope so. Though I admit, I would much prefer a gallop in the open countryside in a pair of Greg’s old breeches.’

  His face tensed and he swallowed hard. ‘I’d rather not envision that.’

  With her limbs fully outlined by the worn, clinging calfskin and thin linen shirt? The idea of Giff watching her in such revealing attire flooded her with warmth of a different sort, reviving the strong undercurrent of sensual tension his teasing had momentarily suppressed.

  She dared a quick glance at him at him, but could read nothing from his inscrutable expression. Did he feel the same odd mix of ease and discomfort, attraction and the need to repress it? And sadness, for the loss of what had once been such a simple, straightforward friendship?

  But she had to be encouraged that they’d managed to recapture their old ease, even if briefly. She’d just have to figure out more ways to make that happen—and keep the disturbing sensual connection buried.

  For once, she welcomed the concealment of voluminous skirts and wide sleeves. And knowing that she would soon be meeting her friend in the park and distancing herself from his both engaging and disturbing company.

  ‘Once we find Miss Henley, you can safely take yourself off—else you might be corralled into talking with Lady Henley. Apparently she is usually accompanied by a coterie of gallants. You’ll want to escape before she adds you to their number.’

  ‘Thank you for the warning! I shall take myself off swiftly—but remain in the vicinity, in case you have need of me.’

  ‘I should be able to handle cuts and slights on my own, but it does give me more...confidence to know that you are nearby. Able to come to my rescue if I should be assaulted in Hyde Park in broad daylight.’

  If he had been nearby to rescue her that day long ago...would she still be as set upon living her life unwed?

  A street urchin darted out in front of her, pulling her attention back to controlling her horse. The increasingly crowded streets then demanded that they ride single file, Giff leading the way to clear a path, the groom bringing up the rear.

  Passing through the entry gates, they found the carriageway already crowded with riders and vehicles. Though they could once again ride side by side, progress was dawdling and they’d made almost a complete transit down Rotten Row before Temper spotted her new friend, mounted on a grey hack beside a smart black landau.

  ‘That’s Miss Henley and her mama over there!’

  Giff gazed in the direction of her pointing finger and nodded. ‘I’m to stay for the introductions and then take my leave?’

  ‘I’d appreciate it if you remain nearby, as offered, and waylay anyone who seems bent on interrupting us. I can’t ask any truly intrusive questions with a crowd around to overhear.’

  He chuckled. ‘Are you sure you wish to ask intrusive questions? You might frighten Miss Henley into nipping this potential friendship in the bud.’

  ‘I’ve already discovered that she prizes plain speaking. If I can say
what I truly mean and don’t frighten her off, she might become a true friend.’ Feeling a wave of sadness as she voiced the words, she added, ‘With Pru off getting herself married, soon I shall need a friend to talk with.’

  ‘I know you must miss her. It wouldn’t be like confiding in the sister you grew up with, but remember, you’ll always have me.’

  She looked up at him sharply, some nameless something passing in their gazes. ‘I hope so,’ she said softly before forcing herself to look away.

  She’d have him as a friend—until he married. Which he must do, probably sooner rather than later, given his Parliamentary ambitions and slender purse. She mustn’t let herself rely on him too much. Better that she concentrate on planning the travels that would take her beyond the restrictions of England, out into the wider world.

  A prospect that seemed suddenly a little lonelier and less appealing than it had in all the dreams she’d spun growing up.

  Suppressing that disturbing notion, she spurred her mount and rode over to intercept her friend.

  Chapter Nine

  After greetings all around and introductions to the two older gentlemen who were accompanying Lady Henley, Temper gave Giff a significant nod.

  Returning a quick wink, he said, ‘I’ll just let the young ladies chat, while I catch up with some friends. If you’ll excuse me, ladies and gentlemen?’

  As he rode away, Temper turned to her companion. ‘Shall we try a trot, Miss Henley? With your permission, of course, Lady Henley.’

  ‘Go on, girls, enjoy yourselves,’ she said with an indulgent look.

  Smiling at Temper, Miss Henley signalled her mount forward. ‘I doubt we can manage a trot in this throng, but we can try!’

  ‘Only until we’re far enough away to speak without being overheard,’ Temper added in an undertone.

  ‘Let us be off, then!’

  It truly being difficult to ride with any speed through the crowd of horses, carriages and pedestrians, the two girls soon slowed their mounts to a walk.

  ‘Now we may ask each other as many “vulgarly intrusive” questions as we please before the world catches up with us again,’ Temper said.

  ‘Excellent! I should ask first, for there is truly nothing interesting about me. I’ve spent most of my life buried in Hampshire and possess no talents other than an aptitude for riding and a penchant for reading. Despite the fact that you could have any man you wanted, you told me you would rather go adventuring than marry?’

  ‘I don’t know that I could have any man I chose—assuming I wished to choose one.’

  ‘Ah, yes. Your curious reputation. You exactly resemble your mother, I’ve heard.’

  ‘I’m nearly her twin. So of course, in the eyes of society, I must share her profligate tendencies. Thereby making me a female no responsible man would dare to marry,’ Temper said, trying to keep the bitterness from her tone. ‘Then there’s my brother Christopher, who married a former courtesan last year, putting the family further beyond the pale. So it’s fortunate that I have no desire to wed.’

  ‘Have you actually done anything...profligate?’ Miss Henley asked.

  ‘Not yet,’ Temper replied with a laugh. ‘But society is just waiting for me to do something scandalous. Which is so annoying, I may lose my temper, and find a way to behave very badly, just to live down to their expectations.’

  Instead of looking alarmed by that prospect, Miss Henley laughed. ‘What nonsense, that you are being judged before you’ve done anything at all! Another example of how ridiculous society is. If you do decide to do something scandalous, may I join you? I’m not pretty enough to catch the attention of a scoundrel, but a whiff of scandal might make me more interesting to the gentlemen.’

  ‘You wouldn’t want to be compromised into having to marry a scoundrel!’ Temper protested.

  ‘No. But it might be deliciously wicked to ride or dance with one. Until he finds out I’m not daring at all. I suppose I shall end my days living in some little London town house, with an elderly relation to give me consequence and a pug dog at my feet.’

  ‘You mustn’t settle for anything so dreary! Come adventuring with me! I’ve wanted to explore foreign lands since I was a girl and have read every travel journal I could find by individuals who have travelled to India, Russia, the Far East. My father collects weapons and antiquities. I hope to travel with his commission, acquiring things for him.’

  ‘It sounds marvellously exciting, though I’m not sure I’m brave enough to accompany you! I should very much like you to call me your friend, though. Know that you can count on me to be yours, whatever shocking thing you might do!’

  In Miss Henley’s avowal Temper could find no trace of insincerity. A wave of warmth and gratitude swept over her. Perhaps she had found a friend who could partially fill the void left by Pru’s departure. Miss Henley seemed to possess the same sunny, optimistic disposition that made her twin so lovable.

  ‘Thank you,’ Temper said at last. ‘I should like very much to call you my friend as well.’

  ‘Good! I’m glad we settled it, for I fear we’re about to be overtaken by some of your admirers. See the ones, over there, waving at you?’

  ‘Drat,’ Temper muttered, noting that there were indeed some gentlemen picking their way through the riders and carriages, headed towards them. ‘I shall be lucky to recall any names.’

  Miss Henley gave her a surprised look. ‘Do you not know them all?’

  ‘I actually know almost none of the men who were presented to me last night,’ Temper said. ‘My mother, you remember, isn’t received by many in society and I’m acquainted only with the handful of gentlemen who are my brothers’ closest friends. I’m ashamed to admit that I had so little interest in society, I never even thought to discover the identity of its occupants. Lady Sayleford would know everything about everyone, of course, but I’d rather not ask her.’

  Miss Henley shuddered. ‘I should think not! My mother wouldn’t let me step near a drawing room until I could recite from memory the names of every society hostess, every aristocrat of note and every unmarried gentleman in London. I can coach you, if you like.’

  ‘Thank you, that would be most helpful!’ And a perfect opportunity to obtain an honest assessment of any member of society she needed to know more about—without having to ask Giff or Lady Sayleford.

  ‘Are there any particular beaux you had in mind?’

  ‘Lord Theo?’

  ‘Ah, a charmer, but one who prefers the amusement of married ladies with indulgent spouses. A younger son who receives a generous allowance from his family, he has no pressing need to marry. Which means, although everyone who is anyone attends Lady Spencer-Woods’s Opening Ball, you’re unlikely to see him at any of the Marriage Mart events. He’s not dangerous, though—I’ve never heard of him trying to seduce an innocent and Mama would surely have warned me against him if he had.’ She smiled, her eyes merry. ‘He would make an excellent flirt, though, if you wish to keep fast company.’

  ‘I just might. Your account confirms my impressions of him. Now, what about Lord Solsworth?’

  ‘You mean the biggest catch in London?’ she said and laughed when Temper groaned. ‘Despite the fact that Lady Agremont would be a horror of a mother-in-law, I can’t tell you how many ladies have set their caps for him! But he’s young yet to marry, nor has he ever shown a particle of interest in any lady. Which made the rapt attention he showered on you last night so notable.’ She giggled. ‘The spectacle of her son bedazzled by a lady of questionable reputation must have given his mama palpitations! Which is probably why she dressed you down so rudely.’

  ‘Perhaps that will put an end to his interest—I hope. I don’t want to be pursued by anyone my father might expect me to marry!’

  Temper was on the point of asking about her tongue-tied dance partner of the previous evening when they rounded the corner
to see Giff, who’d ridden ahead of them, drawn up by Lady Henley’s carriage—with the Misses Avery on horseback beside him. Temper couldn’t prevent an instinctive recoil of distaste.

  ‘Do you know the Avery girls?’ she asked, trying to keep her voice neutral. ‘Isn’t it unusual to have two sisters presented at once?’

  ‘Yes, that’s another story. The girls are being sponsored by their mother’s sister, their own mother having passed away two years ago. And presented together, rather than one at a time, Mama said, because their father, Viscount Chilford, plans to remarry and they don’t wish to still be at home after he does.’

  ‘I can understand that. It would be hard, watching someone else take your mother’s place.’ Temper frowned, suddenly making the connection. ‘Viscount Chilford?’ she repeated. ‘He’s Ben Tawny’s father, isn’t he?’

  ‘Why, yes. You know the Viscount?’

  ‘No, but his son Ben is one of my brother Christopher’s closest friends! They were at Oxford together. Ben virtually lived at Vraux House after he and Christopher were elected to Parliament, until he married Lady Alyssa.’

  ‘Oh, yes, now I remember Papa mentioning them—Hadley’s Hellions, your brother’s political group is called, isn’t it? Lady Alyssa is an artist?’

  ‘Yes. She’s off on one of her sketching expeditions at the moment, but I’d be delighted to present you to her when she returns. And to the other wives of Christopher’s close friends. All are unusual—Lady Maggie’s been a political hostess for years, assisting her father before she married Lyndlington, and though Faith is a Dowager Duchess, she prefers to be known simply as “Mrs David Smith”.’

  ‘The whole group made marriages that were...out of the ordinary. I would love to make their acquaintances—ladies who are actually doing something! And I must make you known to my closest school friends, too. Not that we are exceptional in any way, except that we are all fortunate to possess a large enough competence that we will not be forced to wed.’ She grinned. ‘We call ourselves “the Splendid Spinsters”.’