For the Love of the Baron (The Noble Hearts Series Book 3)

by Callie Hutton

  “You wished to speak with me, my lord?”

  Pomeroy waved at a seat in front of the tea service. “Yes, yes, my boy. Have a seat.”

  At least the man seemed far too cheerful to request Jonathan contact his second, so they could set up the day and time for the duel. Still uneasy at facing the man whose unmarried daughter he’d bedded the night before, he sat, and once again accepted a cup of tea, passed on the treats, and sat back waiting for what Pomeroy was about to say.

  “I don’t sleep well.” Pomeroy took a sip of tea and regarded Jonathan over the top of the rim.

  Uh, oh. This was not going to end well. “I am sorry to hear that, my lord.”

  “A curse, to be sure.” He reached for one of the delicate sandwiches and made a face. “I used to complain because when my dear Elise ran my household, before she married St. George, she only offered these silly little sandwiches. Said it was better for my health.” He popped one into his mouth. “I thought once she married I would be able to have something a bit hardier at tea time. Then the charming Lady Crampton came into our lives—as a chaperone for my precious daughters—” he hurried to add, leaving Jonathan wondering why the man seemed flustered in mentioning Lady Crampton, and her duties.

  “Her idea of tea sandwiches wasn’t much better.” He waved at the table. “As you can see.” Another delicate sandwich disappeared into Pomeroy’s mouth. “Where was I?” He wiped his mouth with a napkin. “Oh, yes. My trouble sleeping.”

  Jonathan tensed.

  “Wouldn’t you know I woke up right before daylight this morning and found it necessary to take a stroll to the kitchen for a glass of warm milk. Wasn’t really looking for more sleep time, just a way to fill the belly a bit before Cook would have something ready for my breakfast.”

  Jonathan was not stupid and knew exactly where this conversation was headed. Should he play dumb and wait for Pomeroy to confront him, or offer his sincere apologies and state his full intention to marry Marigold?

  “If one wanders the house at night—or in this case early morning—it’s an easy way to keep track of one’s family members’ comings and goings. Caught my lovely daughter, Juliet, Lady Hertford that is, and her husband tiptoeing down the corridor to the back door one time a few years ago in the middle of the night.” He picked up another sandwich and studied it before popping it into his mouth. “They weren’t married yet.”

  Since Pomeroy’s ramblings had not wandered in the direction of a question, Jonathan kept his mouth shut.

  With one quick move, the man sat forward on his seat and glared at Jonathan. “So, since my wandering this morning was interrupted by my cherished daughter—dressed in breeches—tiptoeing down the corridor from the back door before six this morning, and not being a fool, I know it had something to do with you. When can I expect an offer?”

  No point in continuing to play dumb. Lord Pomeroy was not.

  “In fact, my lord, I have suggested such to Lady Marigold already this morning.”

  “But not a formal proposal? If I recall, I asked you to come to me first.”

  “No. Not an actual, formal proposal. But in any event, she does not seem amenable to the idea.”

  Pomeroy waved. He was either dismissing his comments or shooing away the annoying fly who had been bothering them since they’d sat down. “No matter. She will. Eventually.”

  Apparently satisfied with Jonathan’s answer, Pomeroy leaned back once again, his legs stretched out and crossed at the ankles, his fingers laced on his stomach. “We have a sort of family tradition here. The whole family gathers when a marriage proposal is made.”

  Once again, Jonathan choked on his tea.

  ***

  Marigold paced her bedroom, pushed her spectacles back up on her nose, and counted the flowers on her carpet as she walked, mentally dividing them into squares against the length and width of the rug, and concluded the carpet was out of balance. At least it had helped somewhat to not dwell completely on how thoroughly annoyed she’d been that Jonathan had gotten to speak with his friend, Mr. Townsend from Scotland Yard to discuss the Stevenson murder, and she’d been denied. Thwarted on two counts, she’d been.

  If she insisted on visiting with Townsend when Jonathan did, he would tell Lady Crampton, who would tell Papa about her disgrace. Aside from that, women were never allowed in men’s clubs, so she couldn’t have gone anyway. Blast all men. They controlled everything, and that annoyed her even more than being shut out of the investigation.

  She did vaguely suggest to Jonathan that she dress as a man and go with him, but for once in her life she didn’t pursue that argument. The look on his face was enough to stifle any discussion. She might be clever and daring, but she wasn’t stupid.

  Another concern was Papa’s request to visit with Jonathan. She’d watched from her bedchamber window and saw Jonathan leave about twenty minutes before. He looked whole and hardy, so there apparently hadn’t been fisticuffs, although Jonathan said Lady Crampton would not tell Papa about her adventure as long as she stayed out of the investigation.

  However, Jonathan had ordered her to stay in the house, so they could continue their conversation. Apparently, he did not think the issue was so very important, after all since he had strolled away without looking back.

  A scratch at her bedchamber door drew her attention. “Come.”

  The door opened and her two sisters, Juliet, the Marchioness Hertford, and Elise, the Countess St. George, strolled into her room.

  Marigold broke out into a huge smile. “What are you both doing here? Are the little ones with you?”

  “Of course. They are happily settled in the nursery, eating biscuits when we left,” Elise said. Then she opened her arms. “Come give me a hug.”

  The three sisters gathered in a circle as they did when they were younger and hugged each other. “I’m so glad you came to visit,” Marigold said, hating the tears she fought to keep back. It was truly so very good to be with her sisters again. So much had happened since the last time they were all together.

  Elise sat on the settee by the window and smoothed her skirts. “We were summoned.”

  “Summoned? By whom?”

  “Papa,” Juliet said as she joined Elise on the settee. “He is planning some sort of a special dinner this evening. He said there would be entertainment.”

  “Entertainment?” Whatever could Papa have been talking about? At least since he hadn’t yet learned about her debacle, it would not involve any sort of repute of her with the family all watching. “Are St. George and Hertford with you?”

  Elise patted the open seat next to her for Marigold to sit. “St. George will be here later. He had parliamentary business to attend to.”

  “Hertford is expected momentarily. I believe Papa wanted advice on an investment.” Juliet shrugged. “Those things are all beyond me.”

  Elise viewed Marigold with the look she’d bestowed on her and Juliet when Elise had taken over Mother’s duties after she passed away. “Are you telling me that you have no idea what Papa is planning in the way of entertainment?”

  Marigold shook her head. “No.” She hesitated and then added. “I’ve been busy of late with a matter that needed my attention.”

  She never should have said a word because both Elise and Juliet perked up with a great deal more enthusiasm than Marigold would have liked.

  “Tell us.” Juliet was practically jumping up and down on the settee. “With our boring lives, we have so little to gossip about.”

  “Nonsense. I’m sure the children and all the ton gossip keep you both very well diverted.”

  “Actually, Hertford and I haven’t been to many social events this Season.” Juliet blushed prettily. “We are, um, expecting another little one in several months. And you know how over-protective my husband is when I am increasing.”

  “Juliet! How wonderful.” Marigold and Elise both hugged her.

  “Well, since announcements are being made, I should add that St. George and I wi
ll be adding to our nursery in a few months, as well.” Elise grinned at her two sisters.

  “My goodness. The family is certainly growing.” Marigold placed her hand on her stomach, hoping she would not be adding to the numbers.

  Of course, both of her sisters noticed her movement. Elise raised a brow and nudged Juliet. “Are you certain you have no idea what Papa is all about tonight, dear youngest sister?”

  Marigold shook her head. “No. I have no idea.”

  “Mari, why don’t you freshen up and join us downstairs? We will take all the children on a walk. It will do us good since the air is so very fresh today.”

  Marigold smiled at her sister. “You haven’t called me that in years. I do agree that a walk is a wonderful idea. I will join you in a few minutes.”

  Elise and Juliet left the room, arm in arm. “We will gather the children and their nurses and see you downstairs,” Elise tossed over her shoulder.

  While she washed her face and hands and re-did her hairdo, Marigold’s thoughts wandered back to the situation with Jonathan and his proposal. Not that it had been a proper proposal, and truth be known, even though she had considered suggesting an affair, she knew deep down he would never consent to that. He was too much of a gentleman. And, he needed an heir.

  Even if she didn’t want to marry, she could never tolerate being Jonathan’s lover and have him marry someone else. In fact, if she was being totally truthful, she would not be too happy to see him wed another, even if they weren’t lovers.

  Now that was a scary thought. Jealous? She refused to believe that, but what else could explain the stabbing sensation to her heart when she imagined Jonathan marrying one of those silly girls from the marriage mart?

  Because I love him.

  Air whooshed from her lungs. She had to sit down for that one, or she would surely swoon. And she didn’t swoon.

  Chapter Sixteen

  Jonathan arrived at the Pomeroy townhouse after having bathed, shaved, and dressed appropriately for dinner. He chuckled to himself at what Lord Pomeroy had planned. The man was almost as slick and devious as his daughter. It was nice to have him on his side.

  He patted the piece of jewelry in his pocket and smiled at Macon as he held the front door open for him. “Good evening, my lord. If you will follow me to the drawing room, Lady Marigold has asked that you join her there before the others gather for dinner.”

  Not long after Jonathan was settled in a comfortable chair in front of the fireplace, Marigold swept into the room. A fine pale blue material flowed over the dark blue underskirt of her gown. Slight capped sleeves covered the very top of her slender arms. A gold woven piece of fabric circled her body under her luscious breasts, with another of the same trim edging the neckline of her gown. Gold slippers peeked from under the bottom of her skirts.

  Her glorious hair had been swept from her face, held back with two jeweled combs, with a mass of curls tumbling down her back. Even her spectacles seemed to glimmer in the candlelight. She smiled at him.

  He slowly stood, his breath hitched, and as if he’d been struck by a thunderbolt, the thought jumped to the front of his mind.

  I love her.

  How could he have been so blind to the fact? That was why he wanted to marry her. Not just because it was his duty to produce an heir, or his responsibility to the girl because he’d compromised her. He wanted her because his life would be empty without her. She was daring, frustrating, always on the edge of disaster, but she was also intelligent, kind, witty, and caring.

  She would make a wonderful baroness.

  Her smiled faltered as he continued to stare at her. “Is something wrong?”

  He crossed the room, shaking his head. “Not at all, I am merely taken aback at your beauty.”

  Expecting a bit of sarcasm, he was surprised when she executed a perfect curtsy. “Thank you, my lord. You are looking exceptionally handsome yourself tonight.”

  Unable to help himself, he took both her hands and pulled her to him. Wrapping his arms around her, he bent his head and took her lips in a warm, loving kiss. As much as he wanted to toss her on the sofa next to him and have his way with her, want he really wanted, was to show her by his kiss how much he cared for her.

  Before she decorated him with the contents of her dinner plate at the dining table when she learned what he intended to do.

  He pulled back but kept his arms around her waist. “I have news about the murder investigation.”

  “You do? Tell me.”

  Jonathan took her by the hand and led her to the sofa. Once they were settled, he leaned back and rested his foot on his bent knee. “I saw Mr. Townsend today, for a brief period at his club. The investigation is moving quite quickly. It seems that Dr. Vincenzio Paglia had a nephew from whom he was estranged. The man’s name is Mr. Giovanni Paglia.

  “The reason his name was readily available was because he had already been under investigation for Dr. Vincenzio Paglia’s death. They were almost certain he had murdered his uncle but had been unable to prove it.”

  “Oh, my goodness. Do you suppose he killed St. Clair and Stevenson? Do you think it was because of the journal?”

  “I don’t know. I told Townsend about the journal and he was going to add that information to the file. Although they were still counting St. Clair’s death as an accident, the young Paglia is on their books for Dr. Stevenson’s murder.”

  “Where does that leave our journal?”

  “Missing.” He laughed. “But, Townsend assured me when they find it, wherever it might be, the journal will be returned. To me.”

  “To us.”

  “Perhaps.” He grinned. Yes. Most likely it would be to them both.

  “Here you two are. Why don’t you join the rest of us in the library where Lord Pomeroy is handing out glasses of brandy and sherry?” Lady Crampton stuck her head into the room, a bright smile on her face.

  “Yes. Of course.” Jonathan offered his arm to Marigold and they strolled, along with Lady Crampton to the library.

  Jonathan knew Hertford and St. George but had not spent time in their company since their marriages. They nodded to each other, and he bowed to their wives.

  He took a glass of brandy from Lord Pomeroy, and brought a glass of sherry to Marigold, who was busy chatting with her sisters and Lady Crampton. He was quite surprised when two very pretty young ladies, identical twins if he was not mistaken, joined them in the library.

  Lady Crampton’s brought them over to Jonathan. “My lord, may I make known to you my daughters, Lady Prudence and Lady Phoebe.” She smiled at the two young ladies. “Girls, this is The Right Honorable Lord Stanley.”

  Both girls offered an excellent curtsy.

  “It is a pleasure to meet you, ladies. I had no idea Lady Crampton hid such loveliness from the rest of the world.” He turned to Lady Crampton and grinned. “Not well done, my lady.”

  Both girls collapsed into giggles, a bright blush rising to their cheeks. They appeared to be about three and ten years.

  “We have been studying deBretts. I believe you are a baron, my lord. Is that correct?” One of the girls, he had no idea which one, smiled at him.

  “Yes, indeed. I am a baron.”

  Lord Pomeroy moved to the center of the room. “Now that we are all gathered here together, I will ask that everyone take a seat.”

  Jonathan took Marigold’s elbow and escorted her to the settee. He ran his finger around the inside of his cravat and waited until everyone was settled. Then taking a deep breath, he went down on one knee.

  ***

  Marigold’s eyes swung from person to person and realized they had all been watching her since they’d entered the room. Her sisters were smiling at her, dabbing their eyes with lace handkerchiefs. Lady Prudence and Lady Phoebe were practically bouncing on the sofa.

  Once she settled on the settee and Jonathan dropped to one knee, Marigold hopped up. “Papa!” Her gaze swung to him, her lips tightening.

  Lord Pomeroy ga
zed lovingly at her from across the room. “Yes, my dear heart.”

  “Papa, no.”

  He shook his head. “Papa, yes, darling girl. ‘Tis a family tradition.”

  Marigold sat back on the settee and dropped her head into her hands. “This is so very embarrassing.”

  “How do you think I feel?” Jonathan offered from his place on the floor as he ran his finger around the inside of his cravat again.

  Marigold picked up her head and looked at him. This was the man she loved. He was bossy, over-protective and arrogant at times. He was also loving, caring, intelligent and fun to be with. He would also allow her the freedom she must absolutely have for the rest of her life.

  “Within reason, Marigold.”

  To her horror, she realized she’d been mumbling out loud. Fortunately, no one heard her except Jonathan.

  He took her hand and looked up at her. “Marigold, there isn’t a lot I can say, except I love you, and hope you will make me the happiest of men and accept my hand in marriage.”

  She closed her eyes briefly, then looked at him. “I love you, too, Jonathan. And yes, I will marry you.”

  Cheers rose from the others in the room. This so-called tradition of every proposal having to be made in front of the entire family was growing tiresome. Except now hers was over, so it would all end until it was Prudence or Phoebe’s turn.

  Which led her to another heart stabbing thought. With her married, there would be no reason for Lady Crampton to continue living at their house and acting as chaperone. Whatever would happen to the girls? Where would they all go?

  Before that line of thinking continued, Jonathan placed a heavy ring on her finger. It was a large ruby surrounded by tiny diamonds.

  “This was my mother’s ring. If you wish to have it re-set, please let me know.”

  Marigold shook her head and held out her hand to admire the ring on her finger. “No. I love it just the way it is. And I love that it was your mother’s.”