Tempting a Proper Lady

by Debra Mullins

  “Did Lord Raventhorpe say why they had quarreled?”

  “No, he never told us.”

  “Mama!” Annabelle’s petulant summons echoed from above them.

  “I’m coming, darling!” Dolly let out a long sigh and gave Cilla a tired smile. “This has been an exhausting evening.”

  “Indeed it has. You do realize that what happened tonight is going to fuel the gossips all over the area.”

  “I’m trying not to think about that. At least not until tomorrow.” Dolly patted her on the arm. “I’m certain that by breakfast time, you’ll have thought up a wonderful plan to take care of that little problem. Your knowledge of English society is one of the reasons I hired you.”

  “Of course.” Cilla managed a smile that conveyed a reassurance she did not feel.

  “Mama!” came Annabelle’s call again.

  “I’d better go up to her before she gets herself in a state. Good night, Cilla.”

  “Good night.” Cilla watched Dolly ascend the stairs for a moment, then turned toward the great hall. She would check on the progress of the servants cleaning up the great hall, and then she would retire to her tiny bedchamber in the corner of the house. Dolly was depending on her to come up with a plan to stave off the gossip by tomorrow, and she would need her rest.

  But later when she lay in bed, sleep eluded her. She found her thoughts constantly coming back to Samuel Breedlove. Strangely it was not his dire words about Raventhorpe that claimed her attention, though she intended to investigate that matter more thoroughly. No, it was the pain and confusion in his eyes that had touched something inside her. She had seen what remained unspoken, something raw and compelling and terribly familiar.

  His heart had been broken.

  Hadn’t she felt the same way when she’d discovered that her husband had only married her for money—money that never materialized because her father had disowned her? Edward’s bitterness had exposed the sham of his proclaimed love, and only anger had gotten her through the nightmare of her marriage. Anger and a desire to never be dependent on anyone ever again.

  So yes, she understood. She and the captain—they were the same. If he was lying about abandoning Annabelle, then why the torment in his eyes? She would expect a scoundrel to show a lack of emotion, or perhaps cold calculation. Not the utter pain and loss she had witnessed.

  But men could be deceptive, and she had been duped before. She knew she could not trust her own instincts when it came to the male of the species. Still, her heart ached for him.

  Even if that made her a fool.

  “I admit I don’t know what to think,” Dolly said, slicing her ham at breakfast the next day. “I would never have expected such behavior from Samuel.”

  “That’s for sure,” Virgil answered, scooping some eggs into his mouth.

  “Cilla, have you come up with a plan to deter the gossips?”

  “I have some ideas.” Cilla sipped at the tea she had reluctantly accepted when Dolly insisted she breakfast with the family this morning. As a mere employee, she did not merit dining at the same table as her employers. However, at heart Dolly Bailey was still a farmer’s wife from Virginia, and she saw nothing wrong with her paid assistant sharing a meal with her.

  Unfortunately the other servants disagreed, as indicated by their furtive, disapproving glances at Cilla.

  “Excellent. We can talk about it after breakfast.” Dolly let out a sigh of relief. “Thank heavens Lord Raventhorpe did not seem to hold Annabelle responsible for last night.”

  “And why should he?” Virgil demanded. “She did nothing wrong. Samuel’s at fault here.”

  “But what about the consequences? The gossip? The earl is a very proud man. I’m just worried all this fuss is going to make him change his mind about marrying our baby.” Dolly’s lip quivered, and Virgil reached out a hand across the table to cover hers.

  “Don’t you worry about that, sugarplum,” he said. “I won’t let him hurt our little girl.”

  Dolly gave him a tremulous smile in return. The moment held such love, such intimacy, that Cilla had to glance away. The cool courtesy of English marriage paled in comparison to what she witnessed now.

  “If it helps at all,” Cilla finally said after a long moment, “it would be considered the utmost of scandals for His Lordship to cry off. A lady might change her mind about an engagement, but never a gentleman.”

  “Well, thank goodness for that!” Breaking eye contact with her husband, Dolly placed her hand over her heart and let out a relieved sigh.

  Annabelle chose that moment to enter to breakfast room. “Good morning.”

  “Sweetheart!” Dolly sprang to her feet and went to hug her daughter. “How are you this morning? Should you be out of bed so early?”

  “I’m fine, Mama.” Annabelle smiled at her mother, then pulled away and went to kiss her father on the cheek. “Good morning, Pa.”

  “Morning, sweet pea.”

  “Are you well enough to eat?” Dolly asked.

  “Of course, Mama.”

  Even as Dolly looked around, the maid, Liza, set a place across from Dolly at the table. “Will you have tea, miss?” she asked Annabelle. “Or would you prefer chocolate?”

  “Chocolate, please,” Annabelle said, taking her seat. “Good morning, Mrs. Burke.”

  “Good morning, Annabelle.” Cilla studied the girl’s face. “You look well.”

  “Better than you expected?” Annabelle laughed as she reached for her napkin.

  “You seemed upset last night, but I am glad you are in good spirits this morning.”

  “Truly.” Dolly sat down again. “Darling, if you had decided to take to your bed for a week, no one would have thought a thing of it!”

  “That wouldn’t help matters at all, now would it?” Annabelle said. “Yes, it was a shock to find that Samuel had come back and expected me to still be waiting. However, I’m engaged to Richard, and there is nothing he can do about it.” Liza set a cup of steaming chocolate in front of her, and Annabelle lifted the cup to take a sip. “Besides,” she said sharply, “he surely wasted no time in taking his leave, wouldn’t you say?”

  “Forgive me,” Cilla said, reacting to the girl’s bitter tone, “but I recall that last night you wanted nothing to do with men, even Lord Raventhorpe.”

  “Yes, darling,” Dolly said. “You told Samuel to leave.”

  Annabelle waved a dismissive hand. “I was upset. I feel better now.”

  “That boy had best stay far away from you,” Virgil said.

  “Now, Pa.”

  “Don’t you try and sweet-talk me, young lady. You know what I mean.” He sent her a look, hard with meaning.

  Some of the light dimmed from Annabelle’s face. “All right, Pa.”

  “What’s the matter?” Dolly asked. She sent a quick, searching glance at Virgil, who merely sipped his coffee.

  “Nothing,” Annabelle mumbled, sipping her chocolate.

  Just then the butler entered the breakfast room. “I beg your pardon, sir. Lord Raventhorpe has come to call on Miss Annabelle.”

  “Lord Raventhorpe? Tell him to come in, Evers,” Virgil said.

  “Yes, Mr. Bailey.” Evers disappeared.

  “Annabelle!” Dolly hissed.

  Annabelle nodded at her mother, then patted her hair and pinched her cheeks for color before smoothing her hands over her dress.

  Evers reappeared. “Lord Raventhorpe.”

  The earl entered the room. Virgil stood and shook his hand. “Good morning, my lord. Are you hungry? We have plenty.”

  “No, thank you.” The earl smiled, but Cilla saw no matching emotion in his eyes. “I apologize for disturbing you at so early an hour, but I was concerned about Annabelle.”

  “How nice of you,” Dolly said, a relieved smile spreading across her pretty face. “Do sit down, my lord. There’s a seat right there next to Annabelle.”

  “My thanks, Mrs. Bailey.” With an elegant bow, the earl made his way to the ot
her side of the table. “Good morning, my dear.” Taking Annabelle’s hand, he pressed a soft kiss to it.

  “Good morning, Richard.” Annabelle pinkened as Raventhorpe sat down beside her.

  “I hope I am not interrupting.”

  “On the contrary,” Virgil said. “We were just talking about you.”

  “Were you?” He arched his brows.

  “We were talking about last night,” Dolly said. “Such a shock, Samuel showing up from nowhere. My heavens!”

  “Indeed. I had no idea there was competition for your hand, my dove.” Raventhorpe gave Annabelle an intimate grin.

  “Oh, Richard!” Annabelle said, laughing.

  “My lord, I have been wondering about something since last night. Where exactly was the ship when the captain quit his post?” Cilla asked.

  Raventhorpe glanced at her in surprise, as if astonished by her audacity in addressing him. After a long moment of silence—which conveyed his disapproval in the most unmistakable way—he gave her a barely polite smile. One that did not take the chill from his eyes. “Why do you ask?”

  “Curiosity.” Though she kept her voice respectful, she did not cower. The earl’s haughty, deliberate demeanor had always struck her as rather cold, but she had always dismissed it as a result of being full of his own consequence.

  Now she wondered if it hid something deeper.

  “Yes, I would like to know that, too,” Virgil said. He signaled the maid to bring more coffee. “How did all this happen?”

  “Since you ask, Virgil, we were in the Caribbean. The captain had gone ashore for…private reasons.” The earl met Virgil’s eyes for a significant moment.

  Virgil’s mouth tightened. “Go on.”

  Annabelle glanced down at her hands.

  “He came back late for his watch. We argued about his dereliction of duty. He resigned his post and left the ship immediately.”

  Cilla glanced at Dolly and could see the same puzzlement she was feeling at the unspoken secrets between the others. “And where did you say that was, my lord?” Cilla asked.

  “The Caribbean. Near Cuba perhaps. I don’t recall precisely.” Raventhorpe picked up Annabelle’s hand and kissed it. “I was quite upset at the time.”

  “Of course you were,” she breathed, a delicate flush creeping into her cheeks.

  Lord Raventhorpe turned away from Annabelle and focused on Virgil and Dolly. “When we got back to America, I tried to find Breedlove to settle matters.”

  “Of course,” Virgil said with a nod. “Any man would do the same.”

  “You can imagine my shock when you told me the blackguard had not returned home. That he had deserted his fiancée.”

  “Shameful,” Dolly murmured.

  Virgil shook his head and drank his coffee.

  “And then when he did come back, after nearly two years, he tried to excuse himself with that ridiculous story.” Annabelle set down her chocolate with a click. “I am hardly a fool. Even if he had changed his mind about the marriage, he still should have told me.”

  “Clearly he is a disrespectful rogue, my dear,” the earl said. “You are better off without him.”

  “I agree.” Annabelle curved her lips in a flirtatious smile.

  Had Cilla not been watching the earl, she might have missed the momentary glint of triumph in his eyes. Perhaps he was simply pleased to have won the lady, but she could not ignore the dislike that swept her when she witnessed that look. Did he seem overly pleased at such a small thing, or was she jumping at shadows?

  “You do not feel you dismissed the captain somewhat hastily, Mr. Bailey?” Cilla asked. “From what I understand, he was a longtime friend of the family.”

  “No,” Virgil answered in a tone that brooked no argument.

  Raventhorpe whipped his head around to pin her with a sharp look. “Why would you ask such a thing, Mrs. Burke?”

  Due to the angle, no one but she could see the threat in his eyes. She exhaled slowly and lifted her teacup as if nothing were amiss. “Only because he seemed so determined to be heard. One would think that a friendship that had endured for so many years would at least merit a longer discussion.” Calling on years of deportment lessons to keep her hand steady and her expression serene, she sipped the hot beverage.

  “He hurt my daughter,” Virgil said. “And maybe you don’t know all the facts. Either way, this is none of your business.”

  “I apologize.” Cilla dropped her eyes to her lap. “It is just that he did not seem like a man who would give up easily.” When Raventhorpe’s eyes narrowed, she wished she could call the words back.

  “Perhaps Captain Breedlove simply recognizes the importance of a strategic retreat, Mrs. Burke,” the earl said. “Which calls to mind a question that has been plaguing me since first I made your acquaintance.”

  Cilla raised her brows in polite inquiry. “My lord?”

  “I have felt since our first meeting that I have seen you before, but the connection has eluded me until this moment. Are you not the daughter of Admiral Robert Wallington-Willis?”

  Startled, Cilla set down the teacup. “Yes, but—”

  “Ah, I thought so.” The earl turned to the Baileys. “Admiral Wallington-Willis is one of Her Majesty’s most respected and decorated naval admirals. He is accepted at the highest level of society.”

  “Why, Cilla, we had no idea!” Dolly exclaimed. “I mean, you had said that you knew all about society, but I figured that was all book learning.”

  Cilla managed a smile even as she silently wished the earl to the devil. Her departure from society had been less than decorous, and she couldn’t help but wonder if the earl knew it. Or was he simply probing for a weak spot in response to her persistent questions? “I have been gone from England for several years. Certainly the connection is of little import now.”

  “Why, Mrs. Burke, you are too modest,” the earl said. His tone conveyed affability while the threat of something darker lingered in his eyes. “Surely it has not been so long that all London society will have forgotten the daughter of one of our most treasured heroes.”

  “You flatter me, my lord.”

  “Nonsense.” The earl waved away her objections.

  “Your family lives in London?” Annabelle asked.

  Cilla nodded. “Ever since Papa retired from commanding his own vessel.”

  “Cilla, for goodness’ sake, why didn’t you tell us?” Dolly exclaimed. “Why, we were all invited to London to attend Lady Canthrope’s ball Monday next. You simply must come with us.”

  “No, no.” Cilla held up her hand in protest. “One simply does not attend a ball when one has not been invited. I am perfectly content to remain here as we planned.” Especially since my presence in London might be a detriment to Annabelle.

  “An easy remedy,” Raventhorpe said, a smirk curving his lips. “I shall procure an invitation for Mrs. Burke.”

  Annabelle clapped her hands together. “How generous of you, Richard! It would simply be wonderful if Mrs. Burke could accompany us.”

  “I agree,” Dolly said. “I am certain Cilla still has lots of friends in London. After all, it hasn’t been that long, has it, dear?”

  “Four years.” Dread surged through her at the direction of the conversation. “But I really do not think my presence is appropriate.”

  “I will be arriving at the affair much later due to a previous engagement,” Raventhorpe said. “It would be a great favor to me if you would take my betrothed and her mama under your wing until I arrive.”

  “But—”

  “Please, Mrs. Burke?” Annabelle wrung her hands, her lovely blue eyes wide and pleading.

  “You simply must come with us, Cilla,” Dolly said. “It’s the perfect opportunity to introduce Annabelle to London folks. After all, she’s going to be a countess soon.”

  She longed to refuse. She glanced at Lord Raventhorpe, and there it was again, that slyness flashing across his face. She knew pushing him about Captain Breedlov
e had made an enemy of him, but she could not do otherwise. The captain’s emotional response to the confrontation still resonated with her, and Raventhorpe’s subtle attack was enough to make her question the earl’s version of events. But for now—how to get out of this situation?

  The last thing she wanted was to go back to London at this juncture, before the wedding had occurred. She had left society in disgrace. She intended to return in triumph.

  “We’ll have to get you a ball gown,” Dolly said.

  “Oh, but I could not—”

  “But you must, Mrs. Burke.” The earl glanced around at everyone seated at the table, then back at Cilla. “You do want to make a memorable impression on society, do you not?”

  Gleeful satisfaction emanated from him even as knots twisted in Cilla’s stomach. Had he deliberately exposed her secret to the Baileys as a way to discomfit her? Edward had often done the same thing, flinging her missteps in her face and then punishing her for her transgressions. Perhaps Raventhorpe expected her to embarrass herself in front of her employers by refusing to go.

  She refused to be manipulated by spite.

  Folding her hands in her lap, she said, “Naturally I will go where my employer bids me.”

  “Glad to hear that,” Virgil said. “Since His Lordship is going to all the trouble of getting you an invitation and all.”

  “Yes, thank you, my lord.” Cilla smiled at Raventhorpe, more at the frustration simmering in his eyes than gratitude for the invitation. “I appreciate your assistance.”

  Raventhorpe gave a curt nod and turned to engage Annabelle in conversation.

  Cilla smothered a smile. She would wait until the pompous earl had taken his leave and then she would explain the situation to Dolly in private. Surely she would understand why Cilla simply preferred not to show herself in society—at least not until after the success of Annabelle’s wedding.

  Perhaps leaving for London early was the answer to the gossip problem caused by the events of the night before. And if the family departed for the city and left her behind, it would give her an opportunity to try and discover more information about Samuel Breedlove.