The Railway Countess

by Julia Justiss

  ‘Oh, dear, that would never do!’ she said with a look of alarm that reassured him. It was all well to insist she didn’t wish to wed into the aristocracy, but when it came down to it, with her family pressing her on, he wasn’t sure she’d truly be able to resist the temptation to claim the title and status. Even if it were only to become Lady Charles, wife of a marquess’s younger son.

  ‘I’ll be careful to head off anything of that nature,’ she replied after sipping her punch. ‘I wouldn’t wish to hurt his feelings by refusing him. Unlike Lord Hoddleston. I’d not regret wounding his sensibilities if it would discourage him from pursuing me!’

  Recalling the anger on the Baron’s face the night he’d routed him on the terrace, Crispin frowned. ‘Is he still bothering you?’

  ‘Not “bothering”, exactly, but certainly not giving up, despite my marked lack of enthusiasm for his company. He actually told me he will be like the Grim Reaper—the final contender who’ll claim me after all the rest had fallen away. An apt analogy, because being wed to him would be worse than death!’

  So the man hadn’t really taken to heart Crispin’s warning that night on the balcony. ‘I shall have to be more vigilant at protecting you from him,’ Crispin said, silently vowing to do so.

  ‘I’d love to give him the cut direct, but Lady Arlsley won’t allow it.’ She sighed. ‘Like Hoddleston, her ladyship believes that you’ll never come up to snuff, and therefore insists I must keep all my options open. And before you say her standards must be low indeed if she’d approve of me bestowing my hand on the Baron, I assure you they are.’

  ‘I wish you’d been found a more protective protector,’ he retorted.

  ‘I can’t fault her too much. She’s been placed in a difficult situation, forced by her husband’s indiscretion to lend her name and status to sponsor someone she doesn’t consider worthy. Although I can’t make myself like her, I do sometimes feel bad that I’m running this rig on her, accepting her patronage while having no real intention to marry. But then she says or does something condescending, and my sympathy evaporates. I tell myself that when this is over, she can congratulate herself on having done her duty to her husband while escaping the onus of foisting undeserving me on some well-born family.’

  ‘She’s a fool if she hasn’t by now realised you are deserving of the highest place,’ he said with some heat.

  Looking up, she coloured. ‘Thank you, Dellamont,’ she said softly. ‘How very...chivalrous.’

  An odd warmth filled his chest as he realised he meant every word. ‘It’s not idle gallantry. I told you I only say what I mean. In wit, intelligence, ability you are superior to every female in this room. Despite that, I would have you return to the place you feel you belong, and end up in a marriage that lives up to your dreams. And I hope when you leave society, we can find a way to remain friends.’

  ‘I would like that, too—very much,’ she said, holding his gaze while that odd tightness in his chest intensified. The desire to kiss her washed through him again. Needing to resist it, he looked away and made himself take a gulp of punch.

  Looking away as well, she set her own cup back on the tray. ‘I suppose we must return to the ballroom.’

  He’d rather find some quiet place to continue talking with her—but she was right, they needed to re-join the company before they exceed the time they could spend with their heads together without raising expectations of an imminent engagement. And he needed to be squiring her about on the dance floor, consciousness of the roomful of people observing them helping him overcome this nagging desire to kiss her.

  Offering her his arm, he said, ‘You’ll let me know if Hoddleston needs more...cogent persuasion to cease annoying you.’

  ‘I will. He warned me that you are only amusing yourself by seeming to court me, and will drop me once the novelty of it fades. I told him if that were true, he ought to be relieved rather than annoyed about your attentions, since my supposed disappointment at your desertion would make me more amenable to marrying someone of lesser status.’

  ‘I wouldn’t provoke him too much,’ Crispin said, a niggle of worry troubling him. ‘I’ve never heard that he had a bad reputation with women, but I understand his financial situation is precarious. I’d not put it past him to try to compromise you into marriage, if gentler persuasion failed.’

  ‘I’ve already had some indication of his readiness to proceed in that direction, so I stay on my guard. I never dance with him except in a ballroom full of people, never agree to go driving with him or to walk with him in Lady Arlsley’s garden when he calls. And I keep Mary nearby. She doesn’t like him, either, and has proclaimed she’d be happy to “cosh him on the noggin” if he gets out of line.’

  ‘Bravo for Mary. Still, you’ll let me know if his attentions become too pressing. I’ll administer some additional “encouragement” for him to find redress for his financial problems elsewhere.’

  She looked up at him, wide-eyed. ‘You would do that for me?’

  ‘We have a bargain to protect each other, don’t we?’ The intensity of his concern about Hoddleston made him realise he felt a good deal more protective towards her than he’d anticipated when he proposed this alliance.

  He’d be just as protective of his sister or any other innocent female, he reassured himself, dismissing a stir of unease over the strength of his reaction.

  ‘A bargain I believe I’ll be getting the best of!’ she was saying. ‘Father has already promised to support me when I decide to abandon society. Whereas you will incur the wrath of your father.’

  ‘But I’ll have that long inspection trip in the countryside to look forward to. There hasn’t been anyone else bothering you, has there?’

  ‘I’ve just described the sum total of my four most assiduous suitors, save you, of course. So,’ she continued as he led her back into the ballroom, ‘to end the evening on the most pleasant note, I’ll look for Lord Charles and entice him to dance with me again. Then you can claim your second waltz. After that, if I’m lucky, I can plead fatigue and persuade Lady Arlsley to let us leave.’

  ‘Sounds like a good plan. Which entertainment will you be attending next?’

  ‘There’s a musicale at the Dellaneys’ two evenings from now.’

  ‘Are you musical?’

  ‘I am, actually. It’s my one feminine accomplishment. Not the harp, although the instructors at Miss Axminster’s school recommended it as the best instrument for a girl to play in order to display the elegance of her figure. Which about sums up the quality of instruction at that school,’ she added, wrinkling her nose with a distaste that set him chuckling. ‘I prefer the pianoforte. Do you play?’

  ‘Indifferently. But I’ll arrange to get myself invited to the Dellaneys’, so I may enjoy your performance.’

  ‘Good. I’ll count on seeing you there.’

  By now, they’d reached Lady Arlsley’s side. ‘As I will you. Until I claim that next waltz?’

  ‘I’ll save it for you.’

  ‘Excellent. In the interim, I’ll go have a word with my mother. Miss Cranmore, Lady Arlsley.’ Giving them a bow, Crispin walked off.

  * * *

  He found his mother in the card room, a smile on her face as she chatted with several friends. Love for his gentle mother welling up, Crispin told himself it would be worth whatever blistering scold he had to endure from his father when this was over to have been able to give her this treat.

  Besides which, honesty forced him to admit, spending time with the enticing Miss Cranmore wasn’t a hardship either. Good thing his dread of marriage was great enough to overcome even the temptation she provided.

  Lady Comeryn turned her smile on her son when she spotted him walking over. ‘Taking a break from the dancing, my dear? If so, will you escort me to get a glass of punch?’

  She must want to talk, Crispin thought as he bent to kiss her ch
eek. So despite the fact that he’d just finished a glass, he replied, ‘Of course, Mama. If these ladies will excuse you?’

  ‘We’ll deal you out of the next hand, Lady Comeryn,’ her friend Lady Randolph said. ‘Have a pleasant chat.’

  Crispin smiled as his mother took his arm and he walked her out. ‘They’ll be waiting breathlessly, hoping to glean some news when you return.’

  ‘Naturally. As I would be in their places. Have you any news for me to glean?’

  ‘Only that I am pleased to see you enjoying yourself tonight, which hardly counts as “news”.’

  ‘I am indeed enjoying myself! And cannot thank you enough for giving me the opportunity to stay in London. I trust you haven’t found society...too odious?’

  ‘No. But I do limit my participation.’

  By now they’d reached the refreshment room, and conversation halted while he obtained her a glass of punch. After she’d thanked him and taken a sip, she hesitated for a moment before saying, ‘What do you think of the Heiress? I’ve heard that you stood up with her for a waltz tonight. And that you’ve called on her and gone riding with her—Maggie told me the last.’

  ‘My, the London gossips are busy, aren’t they?’ Crispin said, a little irritated, though not surprised, that his movements were being tracked so closely.

  ‘Your father stopped by my sitting room this morning to commend my help in introducing you to her. He was so pleased he even increased my clothing allowance! I’ll be able to order some new gowns after all.’

  Though this demonstration of the stranglehold his father kept over his mother angered him further—new gowns should not be parcelled out as reward for earning his approval—Crispin managed to keep his voice light. ‘As you so richly deserve, and I know you will look charming in them. How did Father find out? I assume you hadn’t discussed anything with him.’

  ‘Oh, no, I hadn’t spoken with him since he instructed me to find a way to introduce you. He heard about it at his club, I would imagine. I know you men accuse us ladies of being terrible gossips, but truly, men are much worse.’

  Aside from dining on occasion, Crispin didn’t spend much time at clubs, but he’d played enough hands of cards within their exclusive walls over the years not to dispute his mother’s allegation.

  ‘You are probably right.’

  After a pause, his mother added, ‘Apparently the wagers at the clubs favour you to win her hand.’

  Crispin grimaced. He didn’t regret his bargain with Miss Cranmore, but somehow having their relationship reduced to a crass wager offended him.

  ‘I hope Father doesn’t bet on me.’

  ‘Do you...not like her?’

  ‘I don’t like any female enough to contemplate marriage,’ he retorted. ‘But that avowal is for your ears alone. I intend to continue calling on and dancing with her, eking out the time as long as possible so you can enjoy London.’

  ‘I’ve already had nearly ten days of entertainments, which is far more than I am usually allowed. But if you are continuing your attentions to Miss Cranmore solely to buy time for me...you can begin backing away. As I’ve pointed out, your attentions have been particular enough to prompt wagers in the betting books. Not that Miss Cranmore has any relations of sufficient status to discover that, but it’s still not kind to raise expectations you know won’t be fulfilled. Your eventual abandonment will expose her to malicious gossip, even if it doesn’t break her heart.’

  ‘Because though she isn’t of “sufficient status”, she still has feelings?’ he asked with asperity.

  ‘Of course she does. And if she has any sensibility at all, how could she not fall in love with my handsome son, if he gave her any encouragement? I’d not have her wounded just so I can enjoy London.’

  His irritation that his mother seemed to share the condescension of her class softened. His mother knew more than most about being wounded.

  ‘You needn’t worry. We understand each other. Her father is a railway engineer, by the way. It gives us something to talk about.’

  ‘So you do like her, then?’

  At the hopeful note in her voice, Crispin immediately regretted saying anything. ‘Don’t be weaving plans, Mama.’

  ‘You know I wouldn’t!’ she protested. ‘I’d just like to see you wed eventually to someone whose company you could enjoy. My marriage to your father...hasn’t provided the best example of matrimony. There are couples who do much better. Who deal congenially with each other, even seek to make their spouse happy. I would wish that sort of match for you.’

  Pretty much any marriage would be an improvement on his parents’. But he didn’t mean to wound his mother by agreeing. So he said instead, ‘I’m not interested in exploring those unknown waters yet. Nor is there any need. Father is going strong, and I’m sure will be fully capable of overseeing Montwell Glen for the foreseeable future.’

  After sipping her punch, his mother gave him a little smile. ‘I wouldn’t mind having some grandchildren sooner, though.

  ‘My older sister has already fulfilled that requirement.’

  ‘Yes, but those aren’t your children.’

  ‘I expect to have some eventually—it’s my duty as the heir, after all. But I intend to ensure my present happiness continues by delaying that blessed event until the last possible moment. Now, having offered you refreshment and as much news as can be had, I’ll escort you back to your friends.’

  ‘Very well, no more marital advice from one hardly qualified to offer it. Just remember that your happiness matters to me more than anything else. Don’t continue the social round solely for my sake. And please don’t continue it long enough to engage the feelings of an innocent girl just to gratify me.’

  ‘I shall be very careful to do neither.’

  ‘Then I shall be content.’

  * * *

  After depositing his mother back in the card room, Crispin made his way back to the ballroom, where he observed Miss Cranmore once again dancing with Lord Charles.

  Would they both be able to continue this charade for as long as a month? And might Marcella Cranmore actually be in danger of falling for him?

  After considering that gratifying possibility for a moment, he dismissed it. His mother was naturally prejudiced about the strength of his appeal to women, and Miss Cranmore seemed quite set on enticing her engineer. Nor would he wish to have her develop feelings for him warmer than the friendship he felt for her.

  Friendship underpinned by a layer of desire that was a good bit warmer, he admitted. A sensual attraction that she felt as well. Since he was older, well aware of how insidiously passion could overcome prudence, it was his responsibility to avoid letting the physical pull simmering between them result in a lapse that would catapult them into a marriage neither wanted.

  A duty he needed to keep uppermost in mind when in her tantalising proximity.

  Chapter Nine

  Two evenings later, Marcella scanned the room at the Dellaneys’ musicale from her seat next to Lady Arlsley. Several young ladies had already performed on the pianoforte, and another was presently doing a fair job singing a ballad, accompanied on the piano by one of her beaux.

  Lord Hoddleston had arrived earlier, spotted her at once and come over to offer his compliments. Under Lady Arlsley’s insistent gaze, she was forced to respond cordially and acknowledge that she would soon be performing herself. But since she’d taken the precaution of steering her sponsor to seats in a section that was already fully occupied, Hoddleston was not able to ruin her enjoyment of the ensuing musical selections by taking a chair nearby.

  He seemed to have sensed she’d deliberately arranged that situation. As he took his leave before the next number began, he leaned closer to murmur, ‘You can’t escape me, you know. I will catch up with you later.’

  She gave him no answer, which only deepened his smile and her annoyance.
Honestly, she thought as she recalled his sardonic expression, she wasn’t the only well-dowered maiden on the Marriage Mart this Season. She would have thought, with his ancient lineage and her pointed lack of enthusiasm, he would by now have turned his efforts to a more promising object. What sort of man persisted in paying his attentions to a woman who clearly didn’t want them?

  Someone who wanted to subdue and dominate, probably, she thought, pressing her lips together. That observation made her even more determined to avoid his company. If he gave any sign of trying to coerce her, she would cut him dead whether her sponsor agreed or not.

  The singer concluded her selection to a smattering of applause. As this performance was the last before an intermission, newcomers were then admitted. With a stir of delight, Marcella recognised Dellamont among them.

  What a fine figure he always cut! she thought, watching admiringly as he walked in. With that handsome face and commanding presence even more striking in his black evening wear, she wasn’t surprised that the gazes of all the unmarried ladies—and quite a few of the married ones—followed him as he walked across room.

  She had to admit, her own pulse beat a little faster as he approached. Trying to calm the flutter, she told herself to remember she was the focus of his flattering attentions only because of their bargain. Otherwise, he’d have already quit society, or be appeasing his father by dangling after some female of his own class.

  A reminder she would do well to heed. As he halted beside her chair and she felt the energising force of his presence in every nerve, it could otherwise be too easy to get carried away, risking both her heart and her virtue.

  Surely she was too level-headed for that. Forcing the flutter in her stomach to still, she rose with Lady Arlsley to greet him.

  ‘Good evening, ladies!’ he said, bowing to their curtsies. ‘Have you been enjoying the music?’

  ‘Very much,’ Lady Arlsley replied. ‘It has been quite superior. Which is impressive, considering all the performers have been young ladies just out.’