She said yes, but she did not fully understand what had come over her son until somewhat later that day.
It was about three in the afternoon when Hester stirred and opened her eyes, and Lady Augusta happened to be taking her turn to chaperon the couple. So she was the one privileged to witness the expression on her son’s face when Hester smiled sweetly up at him and raised a hand to his cheek.
He was clearly afraid, yet hopeful. His breathing grew laboured and there was a sheen of moisture in his eyes. Lady Augusta stuffed a handkerchief to her mouth to stifle a sob.
Her son was in love!
She could never have foreseen this. She had always thought Jasper was the image of his cold, arrogant father, the man who had trampled on all her girlish dreams. She had thought it would be better for his future wife to go into the type of marriage he seemed to want with her eyes open. Someone as lowly as Julia Gregory, who would have felt the meteoric rise in her fortune and status sufficient compensation for being tied to a man who would hardly notice she existed. And she had the advantage of coming from a large and loving family, who would have made sure she never suffered the agonies of loneliness she had known as the fourth marchioness.
But if Jasper loved Hester—well, it changed everything.
She took a long look at her future daughter-in-law. She was nothing like the type of women with whom he usually conducted his affaires. She had no address, or dress sense. It would be a challenge, but she would do whatever it took to bring the girl up to snuff. She was not going to stand back and see the poor chit ripped to shreds by society’s tabbies. Nor would she permit her to make a fool of herself, and, by extension, her son. With a decisive nod, she got up and quietly left the room.
Oblivious to anything but the fact that Hester was gazing up at him, Lord Lensborough drew her hand to his mouth and placed a kiss in her palm.
‘How are you feeling?’ His heart was pounding in his chest. She did not look as if she hated him. She had reached out to him. And she hadn’t flinched when, desperate for one last contact, he had kissed the dear hand that she had laid against his jaw.
‘Thirsty,’ she croaked.
He splashed some water into a glass without letting go of her hand. When she tried to take the glass from him with an unsteady hand, he took the opportunity to slide his arm under her shoulders and hold it to her lips.
‘You are trembling,’ he said gruffly. ‘You don’t want to spill it.’
‘So stupid of me,’ she murmured, after taking a couple of sips. ‘I feel so utterly exhausted.’ She rested her head against his upper arm. It wasn’t long before he realised that she was silent because she had gone back to sleep. Loath to break physical contact, he hitched his hip on to the edge of the bed, drawing her up against him till her head nestled more comfortably into the crook of his shoulder. From this position he had the advantage of being able to drop kisses into her hair.
All too soon, as far as he was concerned, she began to stir again. He braced himself for her reaction when she found he was as good as in bed with her, and her clad only in—he swallowed—that same damn nightdress she’d worn in the inn. It must have been extremely modest when it was new, but repeated washing and wearing had rendered it well-nigh transparent. It was no good—now she was waking, he would have to remove himself to the chair.
But when he began to inch away, Hester slid her arms round his waist.
‘Please stay,’ she whimpered. ‘I don’t want to wake up from this dream just yet.’
‘Darling Hester, this is not a dream.’ He tilted her sleep-flushed face to his by hooking one finger under her jaw. ‘You are in my mother’s house. Do you remember? She sent for a doctor.’
The rosiness deepened, as awareness of reality dawned. Then she frowned. ‘If I am really in Brook Street, why are you here in bed with me? Why is there no chaperon with us?’
Startled, Lord Lensborough looked round the room and realised that for the first time that day, they had indeed been left utterly alone. He felt his own face grow hot as he swung his feet off the bed and removed to the bedside chair.
‘I…’ He cleared his throat. ‘Can you ever forgive me?’
‘Why?’ Her eyes narrowed, though she made no move to hitch the covers up. ‘What has happened?’
He tore his eyes away from the tantalising view of her rosy-peaked breasts thrusting against the filmy nightdress. ‘The, er, doctor…’ He couldn’t bear to tell her what the doctor had done while she lay unconscious. It was almost exactly the scenario Snelgrove had planned for her. He tugged at his cravat. ‘I want you in Challinor House where I can take care of you myself. I want to get a special licence and marry you tomorrow.’
‘Tomorrow? But won’t your mother be terribly upset? She has a lavish wedding planned.’
‘I don’t care. It is your welfare that concerns me.’
‘You think I cannot cope with it. That I will let you down.’ Her voice was flat. ‘You are probably right.’
‘You let me down?’
She plucked at the rumpled sheet that had slid to her waist when Lord Lensborough had pulled her into a reclining position, supported by his chest. ‘I am so sorry for the way I behaved during the journey, and for being so silly when I got here. Please don’t cancel all your mother’s plans because of that. I’m fine here. Now I have had a good night’s sleep, I will be able to be sensible, I promise. I won’t embarrass you like this again.’
‘Embarrassed? I wasn’t…well…’
‘Yes, you were. You were very kind in trying to hide it, but I could tell. I caused a scene in the inn.’
He shut his eyes in pain. She had detected his embarrassment, but not the source of it. How could he explain without making the whole sorry mess ten times worse?
She continued, ‘I did my best not to have another nightmare.’ Her eyes were luminous with unshed tears. ‘I just dozed in a chair. I find that I’m less prone to nightmares if I’m sitting up. But I grew so tired, I daren’t even let myself nod off in the coach, because, well, that was all part of it. Lionel…’ She hung her head. ‘I tried to make him think I was deeply asleep so that he wouldn’t force me to drink any more, which meant I had to lie still on the seat with my eyes closed no matter what he did.’ She swallowed, but before he could think what to say, she plunged on, ‘I was so afraid that if I had another nightmare I might not be able to stop myself from running straight to your room and into your arms, and creating a real scandal. You see—’she looked at him directly ‘—I don’t know how it is, but when you put your arms round me I feel as if nothing can hurt me. It was all I could think of, that time you came to my room.’
With a groan, he scooped her out of bed, blankets and all, and dragged her on to his lap.
‘I didn’t fully understand how difficult this has been for you.’ He wrapped his arms tightly round her, while she…oh, heaven…she wound her arms round his neck and clung to him. ‘Forgive me, Hester,’ he breathed into her cheek. ‘Say you forgive me for putting you through such torture.’
‘Jasper,’ she whispered against his neck. ‘There is nothing to forgive. If not for you…’
‘No, when you got here.’ He gritted his teeth. ‘That damned doctor.’
‘Oh—’ she shrugged ‘—him. He was just the same as all the others. Didn’t believe a word I said. But then—’ she laughed bitterly ‘—who would believe such an outrageous tale? You didn’t. The men in the tap room didn’t. You all just saw a wild-eyed woman raving hysterically about drugs and abduction. Then, of course, the doctor couldn’t quite picture you as the hero coming to the rescue in the nick of time.’
‘I? I didn’t believe you? When was that?’
‘I seem to recall, though my memory is a little hazy, of grovelling at your feet begging for help, and you looking at me as though I was a nasty smell getting up your nose. It wasn’t until Lionel actually walked into the room that…’ She shrugged. ‘Is it so surprising that the doctor wanted to confine me in an asylum?’
‘How can I ever make it up to you?’ He felt like a worm. It was true. He had let her down in so many ways, assumed so many falsehoods regarding her morals. How could he ever make the half of it up to her? Even the half she knew about?
When he dared to look into her eyes, they were sparkling with mischief. ‘Taking me for a ride…no…a gallop in the park might be a good place to start.’
‘Galloping in the park is frowned on.’
‘So, I should think, is cuddling your betrothed in her bedroom when she is in her nightgown.’
When he immediately made as if to release her, she clung to him still harder. ‘No, please. I don’t care if it is improper. Don’t let me go. Not yet, please!’
She burrowed her face in his neck so she would not have to see if he disapproved. ‘I can go through with all that you expect of me. Dressing up, and letting people stare at me and whispering about me and this wedding.’ She shivered. ‘I can even stay in that dreadful room with windows to a balcony that anyone could climb on to if they had half a mind, if sometimes you will just hold me like this.’
He stayed silent, though his breathing grew ragged. ‘Are you disgusted with me?’ she whispered. ‘Is it wrong of me to want this?’
Lord Lensborough smoothed his hand over her hair, kissing the furrows on her forehead.
‘You are such an innocent, Hester. You are just seeking comfort from me, aren’t you?’
‘Of course.’ She looked up, bewildered.
He shifted slightly, thanking heaven that the wadded bedding tangled round her lower body prevented her from feeling his reaction to having her pressed so closely to him. He made a decision.
‘Then how can it be wrong? You have been through so much, it is little enough to ask of me, that I hold you close, now and again. Once we are married,’ he pointed out, ‘you will have the right to draw comfort from my arms whenever you want.’
She sighed, a thoughtful expression on her face. It was something of a revelation to consider there might be anything positive about the married state. She could ask him to cuddle her like this whenever she wished. It might perhaps even go some way towards making up for the unpleasant duty he would expect her to endure beneath him in his bed.
* * *
When, much later, he managed to prise himself away with the intention of going home for the night, he found Stephen Farrar kicking his heels in one of the reception rooms.
‘How is she?’ Stephen was wearing riding clothes, and Lord Lensborough recalled that he had arranged to go out with him much earlier in the day.
‘Have you been here all day, my friend?’
Stephen shrugged one elegant shoulder. ‘I had nothing better to do. Miss Dean has been keeping me company.’
Em scowled at him over her shoulder from the desk where she was writing what appeared to be a letter.
‘I do apologise. I forgot our engagement to ride, in the light of, er…’ He paused. ‘And I am leaving now.’
‘Then it is time I left too.’ Stephen made his way to the desk and made quite a production of taking his leave of Miss Dean, insisting on kissing her hand several times in spite of her attempts to avoid the salutation.
‘Must you persist,’ Lord Lensborough said as they strolled along Brook Street, ‘in tormenting Lady Hester’s friend?’
‘It is my only option,’ he replied bitterly, ‘since she despises me so heartily. She thinks I am a social butterfly, a parasite on the back of the honest working man, a useless ornament dangling from the bloated belly of an oppressive system, besides being a heartless womaniser, flitting from one frail blossom to the next, tossing them aside when I have drained them of their nectar.’ He flung back his head and laughed. ‘Yet the verbal duels I fight with Miss Dean make me feel alive in a way I have not done since I had to sell out of the regiment.’
Lord Lensborough eyed him keenly. ‘Are you telling me you care for her?’
‘What would be the point? She hates me and all I stand for. You have the devil’s own luck,’ Stephen said moodily. ‘You snap your fingers and the woman you want falls at your feet. All Em can do, when I try to tell her how beautiful she is, is to draw herself up to her full height and spit fire at me.’
Lord Lensborough smiled reminiscently. ‘The challenge to your manhood,’ he said softly, ‘is well-nigh irresistible, isn’t it? To conquer a woman who is fully aware of all your faults, rather than having to evade the honeyed trap of harpies who just want to get their hands on your money.’
Stephen laughed. ‘Perhaps you could give me some pointers.’
Lord Lensborough clapped his friend on the shoulder. Having finally discovered the perfect woman himself, he now believed every man had the right to experience the same satisfaction. ‘You need a strategy,’ he agreed. ‘A plan so devious that she is left with no option but to surrender. Shall we discuss it over dinner at Challinor House?’
Chapter Fifteen
Hester knocked timidly on Lady Augusta’s bedroom door, wondering how on earth she was going to face the dragon in her own lair.
She had been unkind enough to reduce Julia to tears at a rout party. Heaven knew how far she would go in the privacy of her own home. She would not cry, though. She was made of sterner stuff than Julia Gregory. Taking a deep breath, she lifted her chin and marched in.
‘Hah!’ Lady Augusta reared up from a bank of lace pillows and clapped her hands. ‘That’s the look you should cultivate. Go and look at yourself in the mirror, quick, before you lose it, that’s right. You look every inch a marchioness with that haughty tilt to your chin.’
The opening salvo was so unexpected, Hester found herself meekly going to a cheval glass and examining her reflection.
‘Now come and sit beside me.’
Bemused, Hester sat on the chair beside Lady Augusta’s bed.
‘A pity you favour your father in looks, rather than your mother, but you have potential.’
Hester forgot to feel offended by Lady Augusta’s frankness. ‘You knew my mother?’
‘Oh, yes. She had a deal of backbone. She would never have let the tabbies rip at her the way you did during your Season. Why didn’t you stick up for yourself?’
‘I was afraid of losing my temper and offending someone, which might have blighted Henrietta’s chances of a good match.’
‘You can learn to turn aside insults without losing your temper.’ She took a sip from her cup of chocolate. ‘Your aunt was a fool to pitchfork you into society without schooling you how to survive.’
When Hester bristled, she added, ‘Yes, I know she’s a dear, but she’s completely hen-witted. She should have told you that, if you once let them see a vulnerable spot they will not hesitate to tear you wide open.’
Hester swallowed. ‘That’s horrible. How can people take pleasure in being cruel to one another?’
Lady Augusta stared at her. ‘Are you saying you would not enjoy giving some encroaching person a sharp set-down?’
‘Not if it would hurt them.’
She sighed. ‘I don’t suppose you could refrain from blushing whenever some buck flirts with you?’
She groaned as Hester went red at the very idea of flirting. ‘It is not so much what they say,’ she defended herself. ‘More the way they look at me.’
‘Ah. Undressing you with their eyes.’
‘Exactly.’ Hester shifted uncomfortably in the chair as she admitted, ‘All I can think about is escaping somewhere and covering myself up.’
‘So why did you wear all those low-necked gowns?’
Hester shuddered. ‘They were the fashion that year.’
‘Well, this year, you will be a leader of fashion. You must choose styles you feel comfortable in, so that you can have the confidence to hold your head up in public. Others will ape whatever style you promote. In fact…’ she tapped her chin with her index finger as she ran her eyes over Hester from top to toe and back ‘…I wouldn’t be a bit surprised if red hair becomes all the rage, and silly ingenues
begin to fake freckles with make-up.’
She set her cup down in its saucer with a click. ‘We are not going to try to disguise any of your deficiencies, or apologise for them. You are the Marquis of Lensborough’s choice, and his taste is impeccable. I will back you up, girl. If anyone tries to imply you lack in any way at all, you must look at them as you looked at me when you came in here. That should shrink their pretensions. And as for the men, why, just remember you are not some unprotected chit any more. If they offend you, they offend Lord Lensborough. No man has the right to look at you sideways now.’
Hester closed her eyes, savouring the vision of Lionel stretched out on the tavern floor, blood streaming from his nose.
‘Now, what should you like to do today?’ Hester came back to the present with a start. ‘We cannot begin to do the rounds of people who matter until you’re armed with a better wardrobe, naturally, so I should like to get you to my modiste as soon as you feel fit enough.’
Hester gave Lady Augusta a direct look. ‘You are being so…’ She sighed. ‘That is, I thought you did not like me.’
‘Let us say…’ Lady Augusta smiled a secretive smile ‘…that now I know how things stand, I am looking forward to the challenge of launching you. I always have played to win with whatever cards fate has dealt me.’
Hester suddenly felt stifled. Lady Augusta was going to enjoy forcing people to accept her, but she did not know how she was going to endure being a pawn in her game. She had to get outside.
‘I should like to call on some friends today, if you have no objection,’ she said.
‘Oh? Anybody I know?’
‘I doubt it.’ Hester briefly explained her connection to Mrs Parnell, and the nature of her work.
‘Interesting.’ Lady Augusta chewed on a roll slathered in honey, looking pensive. ‘Charitable work…’ She flapped a lace handkerchief at Hester as if shooing away a fly. ‘Well, run along with you. I need to set wheels in motion if we are going to pull this off. Make sure you take your companion and one of the footmen. My carriage is at your disposal this morning. Wipe that mulish look off your face. Lensborough’s betrothed does not walk anywhere.’
His Cinderella Bride Page 21
