by Ava Stone
Robert scowled. He had sacrificed so much in marrying her. He’d given up his hope of ever finding a suitable wife. He’d pushed all that aside, and he’d be damned if it was all for naught. “Lord Carteret, you say?”
Chet nodded and replied tightly, “Yes, she’s staying with that Scottish bastard.”
Robert scanned the room until his eyes fell on his sister. She stood in the open doorway conversing with her guests. “I’ll see him tomorrow. In the meantime, Lady Staveley owes me an explanation.”
Robert bowed slightly to Chet and started across the room, catching Kelfield’s smug expression as he spun Lydia on the dance floor. The image irritated Robert to no end. So, he impatiently waited for his sister to stop her idle chit-chat with some middle-aged spinster near the entranceway, tapping his foot in annoyance.
When Caroline, Viscountess Staveley, finally noticed her brother’s storm-cloud expression, she immediately cut her conversation short and went to his side. “Robert, you look troubled.”
“Where can we talk in private, Caro?”
A slight grin cross his sister’s face, and Robert had a sneaking suspicion that she knew exactly what he wanted to talk about. “You can follow me to the music room, but I can’t be away from my guests for too long. It wouldn’t look good, Robert.”
Wouldn’t look good, indeed! He frowned irritably. He followed her down a corridor, passing many happy guests all dressed elegantly for the evening, but Robert paid no attention to anything until they reached the music room. When his sister shut the door behind them, he glowered at her. “Would you care to explain to me what my wife is doing here?”
The corners of her mouth upturned to a knowing grin. “Well, my dear brother, she is here because I invited her. I certainly couldn’t have people going around saying ‘Lady Staveley snubbed her own sister-in-law’. It wouldn’t look good.”
There it was again. It wouldn’t look good. He knew very well that she was mocking him. He had raised her and schooled her as to what was or was not appropriate. Luke hadn’t paid any attention to those lessons, but his sister had been an apt pupil. “You can save that bit of sarcasm for your husband, Caroline.”
She smiled warmly at him this time. “Rob, she’s staying with Lord and Lady Carteret. James is one of David’s oldest friends. I couldn’t very well not invite her. It would have been rude.”
This didn’t appease him. “I didn’t see Carteret out there.”
“Well, they didn’t come. One of their daughters wasn’t feeling well, so Lydia came alone.”
“So, now it’s Lydia, is it?”
The irritation was evident in his voice and his sister calmly sighed. “Really, Robert, you don’t even know her—”
“But you do?” He countered sharply.
“Well, I’ve spent a great deal of time with her over the last month.”
“The last month!” Robert roared, momentarily forgetting there were people in the hallway. Then he lowered his voice and hissed, “She’s been in Town that long and no one thought to tell me?”
Caroline stepped backward in obvious surprise. Robert rarely raised his voice with her. Apparently, she hadn’t realized how angry he would truly be. “You were in Dorset,” she finally offered meekly.
Did she honestly think he would accept that absurd answer? His glower darkened. “The mail coach runs to Dorset.”
Caroline smiled sheepishly and agreed, “So, it does.”
Robert paced around the room. His sister had to know what kind of position this put him in. What a fool he’d looked like out there. “Do you think you could’ve warned me before tonight?”
Caroline paused before carefully answering him. “Then you wouldn’t have come. And I so wanted you to meet her. She’s such a lovely girl, Robert.”
She was lovely to look at, Robert conceded. But her presence here was unacceptable. Didn’t Caroline realize this was out of line? “Yes, well, I’ve met her, and we’ve exchanged words.”
Caroline frowned in disapproval, as if there was any doubt in her mind that Robert had been the instigator. “You said something cruel, I’m sure. Heavens, Robert, must you be so boorish?”
Boorish?
He had done the honorable thing all those years ago by giving his name to girl who didn’t deserve it—gave her a title no less. And his sister accused him of being boorish?
Then she smiled playfully at him, as if there was some grand master plan of hers that he was a part of. “Your eyes lit up when you saw her out there.”
Had they really? He hadn’t realized it had been so obvious. “Were you watching for my reaction to all of this?”
She nodded mischievously and her brown curls bobbed up and down. “It was most fun. I was hoping you’d like her.”
Robert ran his hands through his hair and glared at his sister. “Fun? If Luke is on his way here, you’d better warn me now. I’d hate to find them starting up where they left off.”
This time Caroline scoffed and looked offended. “In the first place, I don’t know where our brother is. And secondly, he knows he’s not welcome here. I’m quite put out with him at the moment, actually. Now, honestly, I’ve been away from my guests for too long, Robert. Please, don’t look so sour. Escort me back and try not to be such a beast to your wife.”
How had he gotten the reputation with his sister that he was a beast? He had always been the picture of propriety. He frowned at her words.
Bitterly, Robert abided Caroline’s request and led her back to the ballroom. Almost immediately his eyes landed on his wife, now dancing with the current Lord Staveley. “Apparently, your husband is fond of her as well.”
Caroline smiled and smoothed Robert’s jacket with the palm of her hand. “David is a very generous host. If I didn’t know better, Robert, I’d think you were jealous.”
Robert scowled at the idea, and focused again on Lydia. She had more sets of male eyes on her than he was comfortable with. It was just a matter of time before she was caught up in another scandal. She needed to be dealt with, and the sooner, the better.
As the song ended, Lord Staveley led Lydia to where Robert and Caroline stood near the grand entranceway. The two women warmly embraced and Caroline smiled at her sister-in-law. “Lydia, you are truly radiant this evening.”
“Thank you, Caroline,” Lydia replied graciously. “This has been a wonderful night. Will I see you tomorrow for tea?”
It sounded as if she was taking her leave, and Robert couldn’t have been more relieved. Then his sister took Lydia’s arm. “Oh, darling, you can’t leave so soon. A waltz is just starting.” Sure enough, a violinist could be heard warming up his instrument even over the sea of people. Caroline continued in a soothing voice, “Robert, make me happy. Dance with your wife.”
Caroline had gone and lost her bloody mind! Robert could have killed her right on the spot—but later. There were too many witnesses at the moment. And too many people had overheard her request for him to ignore it. He couldn’t refuse to dance with his own wife, as that was sure to get tongues wagging all over Town. So he grudgingly offered his arm to Lydia. “My lady.”
~ 2 ~
Lydia met Robert’s eyes with a look of loathing that matched his own, but she knew what was expected of her. Caroline had been so gracious and forgiving, it would have been easier to refuse Prinny himself than her sister-in-law. So, she took her husband’s outstretched arm.
Robert led her to the middle of the floor, slid his arm around her waist, and took her free hand in his. A waltz, of all things! She’d have to look up into that scowling face the whole time.
“I’m not any happier about this than you are,” he muttered so softly that no one else could hear him.
She glared at him. “Then you shouldn’t have offered me your arm.”
“Appearances, Lady Masten. Appearances,” was his curt reply.
Ah, yes, appearances—the only thing he ever truly cared about. She said nothing and just followed his lead. This would be over soon
enough and then she could go back to James and Bethany’s. With any luck, she could avoid Robert Beckford for the remainder of the season. That should be easy to do. He didn’t want to see her either, after all.
“That dress you’re wearing is outrageous.” His harsh whisper broke the silence. “You look like a harlot.”
Shocked by his sudden statement, she couldn’t help but laugh from surprise. The bastard. Lydia wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of flustering her, so she addressed him clearly. “As I’ve already told you, my lord, my days of caring what you think are over.”
“I can stop your allowance,” he threatened.
Did he think he could control her with his money? She had family that would step in if she needed them to. Robert Beckford would have to do better than that. She only smiled at his threat. “Do whatever you feel you need to, my lord. I’m not under your roof and I won’t answer to you. Not ever again.”
His stare became more intense, boring into her, and then the music stopped. Still, he didn’t release his hold on her. “I don’t want this to get ugly, my lady. Go back to Blackstone. You’ll not beat me in the end.”
But he couldn’t make her do anything. James would protect her. Her cousin would never leave her at the mercy of Lord Masten. That was the one thing she was sure of. Let Robert Beckford do his worst!
***
The ball had long since been over and all the other guests had already departed, but Robert still remained. Lydia had left Staveleys’ shortly after their waltz, and Robert had felt a tug of remorse for his unkind words. He’d just been so surprised to come across her, not that that was a reasonable excuse for his behavior. Thoughts of his wife had occupied him for the remainder of the evening. Lydia was no longer the shy girl he vaguely remembered. She now had a strong will that was, no doubt, just as scandalous as her other activities.
He sat in the parlor, listening to his brother-in-law drone on about one of his children and a puppy. Robert paid very little attention. In fact as his mind wandered, he wondered if he even knew the names of his nieces and nephew. The boy was Aaron—no Adam. And the girls…Rachel and Emily? He supposed he could be a better uncle. When was the last time he’d even laid eyes on the brats?
“So, Masten?” he heard his brother-in-law ask, and he snapped back to the present.
“Beg your pardon, Staveley. I was woolgathering.”
But before Staveley could continue, Caroline entered the parlor and cast her husband a disparaging look. “David, Emma has woken up and is asking for you.”
His niece’s name was Emma! Damn, Robert cursed silently. He was convinced it was Emily. Yes, he could be a much better uncle. It was a good thing he hadn’t asked about them by name.
With a concerned look, David Benton crossed the room to his wife. “More nightmares?”
“I don’t know why you told them that story about Medusa,” Caroline chastised him. “She thinks there are snakes in her hair, and only you can vanquish them.”
“I didn’t think they’d take it so literally.” Staveley frowned. “I’ll make sure to vanquish the snakes for good, my love.”
“See that you do.” Caroline brushed her lips to Staveley’s cheek.
With her husband gone, Caroline turned her attention to Robert. “You’re still angry with me,” she remarked quietly.
Robert rubbed his brow. He didn’t want to be angry with his sister. He loved her dearly. Though he spent most of his time in Dorset, Caroline was never far from his thoughts. He’d been more of a father than a brother to her, but at the moment he felt a bit betrayed by his sister. “Why did you insist on that waltz?”
Caroline moved to sit across from him on the settee with a conciliatory look in her hazel eyes. “Because I was hoping you’d find her as delightful as I do. She is your wife, after all. Wouldn’t it be lovely if the two of you could get along?”
He nearly snorted in response. Get along with Lydia Masten? That was absurd.
“Robert,” she continued softly, “you hide behind this rigid façade you’ve created for yourself. And I so worry about you. Sometimes I think I’m the only one who sees the real you—the only one who knows what a kind, gentle man you truly are. And you must admit, darling, that you’ve been a bit heartless where Lydia is concerned.”
That got Robert’s attention, and he grimaced. “How is that, exactly? She has a lovely home and all the blunt she could want!” Then he added mordantly, “Yes, I’ve been truly terrible.”
Caroline reached for his hand and soothingly stroked it with hers. “She’s lonely, Robert.”
That he highly doubted. When Robert snorted, Caroline thrust his hand back into his lap with a look of annoyance. “Don’t be boorish. You know very well that I didn’t think highly of her when you married. Quite the opposite actually. But now I’ve gotten to know her, Robert. And I think you would be pleased with your wife, if you gave her half a chance. I prefer her to that stuffy whatever-her-name-was you had your heart set on back then.”
Robert couldn’t believe what he was hearing. Miss Elizabeth Haddon had been perfect for him. Caroline might just as well have told him what a lovely gentleman Mr. Bonaparte was. Inconceivable. “You can’t even compare the two of them.”
“No, you can’t,” Caroline agreed with an edge to her voice. “Lydia is full of life and that Haddon woman drained it from everyone around her.”
What was she talking about? Robert looked at his sister and realized he didn’t quite know who she was anymore. The Caroline he’d raised would never say such a thing. “When did you change?”
She smiled at him and her hazel eyes twinkled. “Probably when I married David.”
“Ah, yes.” That was the truth of it. Robert and his sister had slowly drifted apart ever since Caroline had wed. “His friends are peers, but they’re common at heart.”
“Common?” she echoed incredulously.
“Caroline, Kelfield is more scandalous than even our dear brother.”
“I am quite fond of His Grace, myself, Robert. Despite his flaws, Kelfield has a kind heart. And you can call him what you will—he’s an unrepentant, self-indulgent, rakehell, but he’s far from common.”
Although Robert didn’t agree with his sister’s assessment, especially after watching the man hang all over Lydia most of the night, he admired that Caroline came to her friend’s defense. She was always true to her heart. It was one of things he loved most about her. But he couldn’t let her off the hook. Not yet. “And then there’s Carteret.”
At this, Caroline scoffed. “What could you possible find wrong with Lord Carteret? James MacFadyn is a paragon of virtue.”
Robert had to keep from smiling at his sister’s automatic championing of her friend, but he maintained a straight face. No sense in her knowing that he was teasing her. After all, she quite deserved it after tonight. “You think so? Well, for starters, he’s both a Scot and a Whig.” He couldn’t think of anything else disparaging. If Chet was there, he could have been of assistance. Then he threw in as an afterthought, “And he’s a sore loser at cards.”
Despite herself, Caroline laughed. “In the first place, he’s English, though his family’s seat is near the Scottish border in Cumberland. But he’s also an earl, Robert, same as you.”
He couldn’t help but smile then. “If he’s English, then I’m the Prince of Wales. MacFadyn is a Scottish name, Caro. He may have land in England, but he’s a Scot. There’s no question about it.”
Caroline’s smile faded and she looked at him seriously. “What has any of this to do with anything, Robert?”
He shrugged, not really knowing what to say,
“And if you have a problem with Whigs, then I suppose you won’t be comfortable here anymore, since David is one as well.”
He realized he’d taken his teasing too far when he saw a hurt look settle on his sister’s face. He hadn’t meant to actually upset her. Robert hooked one of Caroline’s errant brown curls behind her ear with a brotherly smile. “Whig
or not, you know I like Staveley.” When she smiled at him, he could see the little girl in her that he remembered. Always seeking her brother’s approval. “But no more about my wife. I’m going to send her back to Cheshire, so there’s nothing further to discuss.”
“Oh, Rob, please don’t,” she pleaded. “I so enjoy having her here. Emma and Rachel worship her.”
It was on the tip of his tongue to say that his nieces shouldn’t worship a whore, but Robert stopped himself. His nieces worshiped her? An accolade like that had never been bestowed upon him. Apparently, she was a better aunt to them than he was an uncle, and they were his blood relations. “Nevertheless, that’s the deal we made all those years ago. She’s the one who’s broken it. She’ll go back.”
***
“I’m just saying you’re bloody unlucky to have missed Staveley’s Ball last night,” Chet chided his good friend Brendan Reese, the Earl of Clayworth, as they walked along Rotten Row. The sun was shining brightly this morning, and that was reflected in the return of the marquess’ good nature.
The golden-haired, Adonis-bodied Clayworth was dressed in his finest buff-colored breeches, bottle-green coat, and Hessian boots—making the robust and slovenly attired Astwick look even more out of place along the fashionable walkway. “So I’ve heard from no less than ten people this morning.”
Chet’s deep chuckle actually startled some wigeons from a nearby tree. “Honestly, Bren, when was the last time you saw Rob with stars in his eyes?”
Brendan looked skeptically at his friend. “You must be jesting. Robert’s hardly the starry-eyed sort.”
“My point exactly, old man. Yet he was last night…up until he found out who she was, anyway. And even then he couldn’t keep his eyes off her. Caroline Staveley has my complete respect. It takes a courageous woman to blindside Masten like that.”
