For the Love of the Lady

by Hutton, Callie

  He hadn’t been all that sociable before Selina had entered his life, avoiding as many ton events as he could get away with, but she had encouraged him to visit his clubs more often and even attend a few evening ton events, which he’d done to keep her happy. Although, truth be known, he was more contented in the card room at balls and soirees, and since Selina was at the events to watch over his daughters, the plan worked quite well.

  After requesting brandy from a footman, Henry joined a circle of men he’d known since Eton. Lords Melrose and Connors, and Mr. Rigby sat together near the billiard room. It amazed him how differently the four of them had aged. While Henry liked to think he kept his somewhat youthful figure due to his sessions at Gentleman Jackson’s, Mr. Rigby had gone to fat. Melrose and Connors carried a couple of stones more, but the biggest difference was the lack of hair on Melrose’s head and the perpetual scowl on Connors’ face which had resulted in lines on his forehead.

  “Have a seat, Pomeroy.” Connors waved to an empty chair across from Rigby and Melrose. “We were just discussing you.”

  Henry accepted a glass from the footman and took a sip. “Indeed? I’ve been holed up with my stewards and man of affairs. What gossip could possibly involve me?”

  “Actually, it wasn’t you, as such, but Lady Crampton.” Melrose placed his now empty glass on the table.

  Luckily, Henry had not just taken a sip of brandy or most likely it would have landed in a wide spray on his lap. “Indeed?”

  “Yes.”

  “What about Lady Crampton?”

  “Word has it that now that she is no longer in your employ, she’s looking for a protector. A couple of us were wondering if you have given her conge. She’s a temptingly beautiful woman.”

  “What!?” A protector? His heart pounded in anger that her name would even be on anyone’s lips in reference to such nonsense.

  “No need to get your feathers in a kerfuffle, Pomeroy. Not necessarily a protector like an opera dancer might seek, but someone to help her along financially. Along with,” Rigby winked, “certain benefits in return.”

  The roar that emanated from Henry’s mouth shut down all conversation at the club as everyone turned in his direction. Completely unconcerned about the attention he was drawing for himself, he leaped across the table and grabbed Rigby by the throat. “Don’t even think such a thing, let alone utter those words, or we will be choosing our seconds. The lady was in my employ as a companion and chaperone for my daughters.”

  Rigby looked at him wide-eyed, his face red from the pressure on his neck.

  “Pomeroy, stop. You’re going to choke him to death.” Connors attempted to pull Henry off Rigby.

  Henry released the man and stepped back. “I will do more than choke him to death.” He turned to the other men in his circle. “Or to anyone else who has anything at all to say about Lady Crampton.”

  Melrose, the calm one in all circumstances, waved to a footman as conversation continued in the room. “A bottle of brandy, if you will.”

  “Pomeroy, even though it was never said, I have always thought you and Lady Crampton had an understanding. The fact that she moved out of your house, it was assumed—maybe incorrectly—that the woman was available.” Melrose poured them each a brandy from the bottle the footman brought.

  “Available for what?” he growled, snatching up a glass.

  Connors threw his hands up in front of him in a gesture of surrender. “Pomeroy, you must calm down and admit it was assumed you and Lady Crampton would marry one day, and instead of repeating your vows, she moved out of your home. You must admit that would raise speculation.”

  “What happens between Lady Crampton and myself is no one else’s business.”

  “Come now. You know how the ton operates.” Rigby poured brandy into his glass with a shaky hand. “There is always speculation and the thirst for a scandal or gossip.”

  “Now don’t get all riled up again, Pomeroy, but the new Lord Crampton accompanied Lady Crampton to the Wolversons’ ball last evening. From the way he acted, it appeared they were—for lack of a better word—cozy,” Connors said.

  Henry could no longer sit still. In fact, it would be best if he took a brisk walk to Gentleman Jackson’s and beat the living hell out of someone. He would love to drag these three fools with him to wipe the smirks off their faces. Then he would make his way down the line to all the men unlucky enough to be at the salon.

  He hopped up, knocking his glass of brandy to the floor. “Gentleman, I must attend to business.” Before he quit the group, he turned and pointed his finger. “Do not repeat anything about Lady Crampton, or I will call you out.” He waved his finger again. “All of you.” Stepping over the now empty glass, he left the room, snatching his hat and cane from the doorman.

  Halfway to Gentleman Jackson’s, he remembered he’d arrived in his carriage. Cursing himself, he turned on his heel and made his way to the mews behind the club. “Lady Penrose’s home,” he shouted to his driver, who scrambled to jump from his perch and open the carriage door. Since Henry had no patience for such niceties, he pulled the door open, almost ripping it off the vehicle.

  He tapped his fingers on his thigh as the carriage maneuvered through traffic to finally arrive in Mayfair. Henry banged on the ceiling of the carriage with his cane. “I will walk from here.”

  Once more before the driver could jump down, Henry had the door opened and was striding down the street, swinging his cane as if he were ready to beat anyone in his path. He raced up the steps to Lady Penrose’s house and dropped the knocker on the door, a bit too enthusiastically.

  “Lord Pomeroy calling on Lady Crampton.” After uttering those words, he pushed past the butler the second he opened the door.

  The butler gasped, wide-eyed. “I am sorry, my lord, but Lady Crampton is away from the house.”

  He shoved his belongings at the man. “Show me to the drawing room. I will wait.”

  * * *

  “My lady, Lord Pomeroy awaits you in the drawing room.” The butler at Lady Penrose’s front door assisted Selina to remove her pelisse as she entered the house.

  She had just arrived from a visit to Mr. Darwin, her deceased husband’s solicitor, to outline for him all the expenses the girls would incur their first Season. Luckily, he did not question her on the things she requested, including a wardrobe for herself. He’d always been quite accommodating, although her contact with him had only started in the last year or so in preparation for the girls’ come-out. Up until then, there was no need since she could not spend any of the money on herself.

  It had always enraged her that her husband had his will set up in such a way that the girls could very well have starved or lived on the street until their seventeenth year. But then, Crampton had known she would provide for their daughters in any way she could. With some of the more seedy options open to someone in her position, Selina had been most grateful to Henry for the honest employment and home he’d provided for them.

  She glanced into the mirror in the entrance hall and patted her hair. Her heart was pounding, her face flushed, and she felt like a young girl with her first beau. How foolish. But she had missed him dreadfully. Especially after having Crampton practically pawing at her the night before.

  “Henry, how good of you to call.” She burst into the drawing room, her hands extended.

  He turned to her, and she sucked in a deep breath. He didn’t look anywhere near as happy to see her as she was to see him. “Is something wrong, Henry? Is it one of the girls?”

  “No. My daughters are fine, as I hope Prudence and Phoebe are.” He bowed stiffly.

  She sat and patted the space alongside her on the settee. “They are well, also. In fact I’ve just come from Mr. Darwin’s office to discuss the funds that will be needed now and in the future for their come-out.”

  He nodded, his lips tight as he sat, but he left more space between them than she’d expected.

  “What is wrong, Henry. I’m happy your dau
ghters are fine, but there is something troubling you.”

  “How was the Wolversons’ ball last evening?” The words barely made it past his stiff jaw.

  “The ball? Just fine, I guess.” She leaned her head to one side. “Why do you ask?”

  Henry jumped up and paced in front of her. “I was led to believe you attended the ball with Lord Crampton.”

  “Yessss.” She dragged the word out. She did not like where this conversation seemed to be headed. Immediately, the same burning started in her stomach as when the deceased Lord Crampton had questioned her after each and every event. “Is there some sort of problem with that, Henry?”

  He stopped and placed his hands on his hips. “I was told the two of you seemed quite ‘cozy’ at the ball.”

  Now she could no longer sit. She hopped up and faced Henry. Drat that Lord Crampton for making it appear they were more than just acquaintances when she was merely there with him to introduce him to members of the ton. “What exactly is it you are trying to say? Or accusing me of?”

  “Nothing. I am merely repeating what I’ve heard.”

  “Gossip, Henry? You are now listening to gossip?”

  He ran his fingers through his hair, then wrapped his arms around her, pulling her close. “I’m sorry, my love. Of course, you would not cozy up to Crampton.” He dropped his arms and moved away from her, pacing once again. “However, this situation with you living here is causing talk.”

  She threw her hands out in a pleading manner. “Henry, I moved here to avoid talk.”

  Why, oh why, could she not be left alone? When Juliet and Elise had saved her from Crampton’s clutches the night before, she was grateful, but then not so much when they arrived at the ladies’ retiring room and the girls repeated the rumors that had been spreading throughout the ballroom.

  The girls had also been distressed at her moving out of their father’s home and had asked for an explanation. They, along with everyone else, it seemed, had expected a wedding to follow Marigold’s. They both had planned to chastise their father until Selina had to finally tell them what the situation was.

  Apparently, her association with Henry had been accepted by the ton, and now that she had moved out, it was assumed Henry had deemed her employment, as well as any romance, at an end.

  No matter what she did, she would be condemned. Thought of as no more than a harlot if she remained in his home and a cast-off if she moved out.

  Henry took her hand and led her back to the settee. “I am sure in a few days all will be well. I will accompany you to any event you are planning on attending. We must squelch any talk.”

  “That’s the problem, Henry. I attended events for the past four years as your daughters’ chaperone and companion. As a rule, chaperones and companions are not invited to ton events. I had not received an invitation to the Wolversons’ ball. Lord Crampton asked me to attend so I could introduce him to some of his peers.” She sighed, remembering how frustrated she had been with him. “I must say it was a chore.”

  Henry perked up, his eyes boring into her. “How so? Did he annoy you in any way? Did he put his hands on you? I shall challenge him at Gentleman Jackson’s.”

  Before she could answer, Stevens entered the drawing room. “My lady, you have another visitor.”

  Right behind the butler, before he could even move out of the way, Lord Crampton came barreling into the room. “My dear, how good to see you again.” His brows rose as he took in Henry as he slowly rose from the settee.

  “What an opportune moment, Crampton. I have a few things to discuss with you.”

  “Henry,” Selina warned as she tugged at his hand.

  Chapter 6

  Lord Crampton cursed under his breath. What poor timing for his visit to Lady Crampton. Although they’d never met, Crampton was sure the man who looked as though he would like to tear him limb from limb was Lord Pomeroy. He sighed. Some fancy footwork would be necessary to keep him whole and hardy and not limping when he left the house.

  “Lady Crampton. Would you be so kind as to introduce me to your guest?”

  “Yes, certainly.” She hung onto Pomeroy’s hand like a lifeline. “Lord Pomeroy, may I make known to you Lord Crampton?”

  “Fine. We’ve been introduced. Now, I have a few things to say.” Pomeroy shook off Lady Crampton’s hand and moved forward. Despite the slight trickle of sweat that rolled down Crampton’s back, he held his place.

  “What is that?” He tried a smile, but Pomeroy was not having it.

  The irate man stabbed his finger in the air, a bit too close to his face for comfort. “You are to stay as far away from Lady Crampton as possible. You will not escort her to any events, you will not speak to her if you both happen to be at the same affairs. You will not offer her rides in the park nor strolls along the Serpentine.”

  “Now, just a minute—”

  “I am not finished. If you see her on the street, you are to cross over to the other side.”

  Lady Crampton gasped, her face flushed. “My lord, I believe you are being a bit high-handed.”

  “Stay out of this, Selina. This is between me and Crampton,” he growled.

  Crampton smiled inwardly. If he simply waited, it was quite possible Pomeroy would hang himself. It was obvious Lady Crampton was taking umbrage with her lover’s attitude.

  She placed her hands on her hips and leaned forward. “No, my lord, this is not between you and Lord Crampton. Believe it or not, I am part of this conversation. And I will not be pushed aside and treated like a wayward young girl.”

  Pomeroy was stupid enough to roll his eyes. “Of course, you are not a young girl, Selina. You are years past that state.”

  Another gasp. Crampton wanted to do a jig.

  Lady Crampton drew herself up. He swore she grew several inches. “Henry, I believe it would be best if you left. You are apparently overwrought.”

  “Overwrought? Damn, woman, I am furious.” He waved in Crampton’s direction. “Do you know what sort of mischief this man has been up to?” He took a deep breath. “Furthermore, men do not become ‘overwrought.’”

  “It seemed that way to me, Henry. Nevertheless, you seem to forget I am a grown woman—not in my dotage, either, as you might wont to point out—and I can handle my own affairs.” She flushed. “I mean, my own problems.”

  Crampton felt like rolling on the floor and laughing. Left alone, these two would do more damage to their relationship than he had hoped to accomplish in weeks on his own.

  “I am merely trying to protect your good name.”

  “There is nothing wrong with my name. It is as good now as it has always been.” She sniffed and crossed her arms. “That is, it continues to be good. As it always was. My name. Well, actually not my name but Lord Crampton’s name. Which is still mine.”

  Pomeroy hung his head and rubbed his eyes. “Of course it is, my dear. I didn’t mean to imply anything else. However, as I mentioned earlier, moving out of my house raised another set of problems.”

  “I don’t see why.”

  Crampton loved the back and forth and wished he had a comfortable seat and a glass of brandy to watch the show. He could only hope it would get better—or worse.

  “You don’t see why because you are a woman.”

  Bloody hell, the man was really stepping into it now. Crampton almost felt sorry for the bloke.

  The fire coming from Lady Crampton’s eyes could roast a pheasant. A very large pheasant. Twice.

  “I see. Because I am a woman. An old woman, as you’ve pointed out. How very thoughtful of you to remind me because that is something I have obviously forgotten.”

  “No, no, my dear.” Pomeroy looked around, as if he were hoping someone would step in and rescue him from his tongue.

  “Don’t you dare ‘my dear’ me.”

  “Selina, you are the one overwrought. Perhaps you should send for tea.”

  “Tea, Henry? Ha!” She marched across the room, grabbed a brandy bottle, and spla
shed some into a glass, then gulped the liquid down.

  Crampton cringed.

  Lady Crampton’s eyes grew wide and began to tear up. She immediately dropped the glass and bent over, wrapping her arms around her middle, coughing.

  Pomeroy hurried to her side, pounding her on the back. She waved her arms frantically. It was obvious to Crampton she wanted Pomeroy to stop, but the idiot kept it up until Lady Crampton moved away and, glowering at him, headed for the door. “Good day, gentlemen. You may see your own way out.”

  She continued to cough as she bounded up the stairs to the next level.

  Crampton turned to Pomeroy and saluted him. “Well done, my man.”

  * * *

  Selina stomped up the stairs, mumbling to herself. How dare Henry be so arrogant! Not that she wanted to spend any time with Crampton, but to be told—and not even directly to her—that she could no longer associate with the man was beyond the pale. Cross the street, indeed!

  Perhaps it was a good thing she was unable to marry him. If this is how he planned to behave when she legally belonged to him—how she hated that term, too—her life could become as miserable as it had been when she was married to Crampton.

  Men! She’d had enough of them for one day. Maybe for the rest of the week, actually. Or her life.

  “Mama, Miss Fletcher would like to take us for a stroll on Bond Street to see some of the shops. May we go?” Phoebe met her at the top of the stairs.

  The new finishing governess was settling in quite nicely. She loved to accompany the girls on various treks, continuing lessons on conduct in public as they visited shops.

  “Yes, of course. Be sure to take Jenny and a footman with you, as well.”

  “Did I hear Lord Pomeroy’s voice downstairs just now?”

  Selina wrapped her arm around her daughter and walked the corridor to her room. “Yes, he came for a short visit. He is gone now.” Or he should be.

  “Oh, I do miss him so much. I wish I had known.”

  Her girls had a wonderful relationship with Henry, who in turn treated them as if they were his own daughters. They had received more love and attention from Henry in the past four years than they’d had from their own father.