He turned swiftly, his eyes wide. Recovering quickly, Crampton bowed. “Pomeroy, Lady Crampton.”
Henry hated the way the man said Selina’s name, as if she belonged to him. His anger had him seeing red but scuffling on the patio of the Sanford home would not be acceptable behavior for a guest. “Girls, go with your mother and Miss Fletcher into the house for refreshments.”
Prudence and Phoebe quickly departed with Miss Fletcher, but Selina, her shoulders stiff and her lips tight, didn’t look as though she was going anywhere. Damn, why couldn’t she just once do as he bid?
“What is your problem, Pomeroy? I was merely passing the time with my cousin’s daughters at a garden party.”
“The girls are no relation to you. Your connection with the former Lord Crampton was so far removed a monkey in the wilds of Africa is closer. Just as I told you to stay away from Lady Crampton, I also warn you to avoid at all costs any contact with Lady Prudence and Lady Phoebe.”
Crampton pulled on the cuffs of his jacket. “Is that right, Pomeroy? And what gives you the authority to dictate who the charming young ladies and my cousin’s widow”—he grinned at Selina—"spend their time with? Perhaps I am mistaken, but I do not remember hearing of a wedding between the two of you. In fact, rumor has it that you threw her over and now she is seeking—”
Before the man even finished the sentence, Henry smashed him in the face. He flew backward, barely missing Lady Marion and her mother, Lady Smythe, and landed on his arse. Realizing what he’d just done and where he was, and the gasp coming from Selina, Henry said, “My apologies, Crampton. I must speak with Sanford about the loose brick you tripped over.”
Crampton climbed to his feet and placed a handkerchief against his bloody nose. “You will pay for this, Pomeroy.” He turned on his heel and left the patio.
Henry took Selina’s elbow and escorted her back into the house.
Conversations on the patio resumed. At least he gave the crowd something different to talk about than whatever the latest on dit was.
“Whatever were you thinking, Henry? To hit a man at a garden party is simply not done.” Selina’s angry whisper did nothing to calm his racing heart from what Crampton had been about to say. Either Selina hadn’t heard him, or she hadn’t realized where he was going with that statement.
The man was trying to ruin Selina’s reputation, and Henry could not understand why. Did Crampton think if she became so distraught at the rumors she would marry to stop the gossip, giving Crampton all the money? He wouldn’t put it past the man. He was devious if nothing else.
“I apologize, Selina, I know I should not have hit him, but I will not have him aligning himself with gossip about you and spewing it in public.”
She sighed. “I believe you have made an enemy of the man, and, if nothing else, your actions might have made it worse.”
He looked around. “Where are the girls?”
“Over there.” Selina pointed to Prudence and Phoebe speaking animatedly with two young gentlemen with Miss Fletcher looking on.
Henry narrowed his eyes. “Who are those young bucks?”
“Mr. Applegate, the Viscount Brennan’s second son, and Lord Marlberry.”
“Brennan? Is he Irish?”
“Yes, Henry, he’s Irish.” She sighed. “Is that a problem?”
The tone in Selina’s voice told him if it was a problem, another problem would descend upon his head. “No, not at all. I was just curious.” He waited for a few moments, then said, “Let’s take a stroll in that direction. I would like to meet the men. I mean, after all, Phoebe and Prudence aren’t officially out yet, so I’m not sure they should be speaking to young men.”
“Henry, for heaven’s sake. Do you expect them to converse with the potted plants?”
He patted her hand on his arm and led her toward the group. Applegate and Marlberry, eh? He would have his man of affairs delve into the men’s backgrounds. Can’t be too careful, and all that.
The men bowed in their direction when they joined the gathering. Introductions were made, and Henry proceeded to study each gentleman to make sure they weren’t standing too close to the girls. He maneuvered himself and Selina so they were between the men and the young ladies.
He ignored Selina’s kick to his shin, although it was, admittedly, quite painful. What the devil sort of shoes was she wearing, anyway?
“Lord Pomeroy, what is your position on the Cruel Treatment of Cattle Act? Mr. Applegate and I were debating it earlier.” Marlberry addressed him as if he were questioning a very old professor in class.
The Cruel Treatment of Cattle Act? Bloody hell. He really should get up to speed on what Parliament was doing, but with Marigold’s wedding and Selina deserting him for some twisted sense of propriety, he hadn’t taken up his seat in a while. “Yes. Well, I was considering it myself, but I need more facts before I can voice an opinion.”
As stupid as that sounded to his ears, and from the expression on Selina’s face, she thought so as well, the two men nodded, accepting the answer. He would also have his man of affairs look into the young men’s school records.
After another—very boring—two hours of insipid drinks, small sandwiches, and banal conversation, Selina finally announced it was time to depart. Now he could go home and relax in his library with a nice sized brandy and order Cook to provide some real food. Perhaps he could convince Selina to join him for dinner followed by a bit of dessert.
The sort of dessert that involved a bed.
* * *
Crampton examined his black and blue nose in the mirror and swore. Two days since Pomeroy had hit him, and he still couldn’t be seen in public. He tried using some white powder the day before, but he ended up looking like a corpse.
Pomeroy would pay for what he’d done. The man should be locked up or at least not allowed to leave his house without a keeper.
His plan to apply for guardianship of the two girls was moving along, however. He made sure everywhere he went that he mentioned Lady Crampton was looking for a replacement in her bed since Pomeroy threw her over. Once her reputation was in shreds, he would have his solicitor apply for guardianship based on lack of morality charges.
He’d been playing with another idea that might work even better, and while it wouldn’t give him complete control of the urchins and their money, it would still put a significant amount of blunt into his hands.
The dump he lived in was growing old. His coins had dwindled to where he owed numerous merchants in Greece and was slowly mounting bills in London since his arrival. The income from the estates was not enough to keep him in the lifestyle he wanted. When he suggested raising the tenants’ rent to his steward, the man pointed out how difficult it would be for the farmers to pay additional money. He went on, it seemed forever, about the children going hungry.
Whatever trouble the tenants had with their offspring was not his problem. However, when he thought about a small child with a hungry belly, he relented. He did not want to be the cause of a child not getting proper meals. Even if he couldn’t pay his tailor.
Who also had children to feed. He sighed. He had to find a way to get money.
He looked once again in the mirror. He was to meet friends at the Rose Room, the finest gambling hall in London, tonight, but with his nose looking as it did, he needed to stay home. Better than making up some story about getting boxed at Gentleman Jackson’s. Most men knew he never stepped into the place.
Damn that Pomeroy.
* * *
Selina joined Marigold, recently returned from her honeymoon, Juliet, and Elise in the St. Clair ballroom. The ball was probably one of the few that were left of the Season, although there was talk that Parliament would be in session all the way until August this year. Those who generally left for the country in mid-July would most likely change their plans.
Henry had sent along a note that he would join her later in the evening since he would be attending Parliament. Those sessions went on well into the l
ate hours. No doubt he decided to attend since he seemed to know nothing about the bill Mr. Applegate and Lord Marlberry spoke about at the garden party.
She gave Marigold a hug. “You are looking well, Marigold. How was your trip?”
“Wonderful. We visited several cities in Italy. Our most enjoyable visit was in Pisa, where we viewed the Museum of Human Anatomy, recently opened by Tommaso Biancini. They still call it ‘The Anatomical Cabinet.’ There were more than sixteen hundred specimens. We saw fetal skeletons, skulls, anatomical statues, prepared specimens, and wax models.”
Elise fanned herself. “Oh, goodness. That sounds…horrible.”
Marigold offered her a grin and shrugged. “Maybe to you, but to us it was a wonderful, exciting day.”
“I have no idea how you came to be our sister.” Juliet shuddered. “Surely someone snatched our Marigold out of her cradle shortly after her birth and placed you in her stead.”
“Where are you husbands?” Selina looked around but did not see them.
“The bounders all took off for the card room the minute we arrived. It would serve them right if we all found other men to dance and flirt with.” Juliet sniffed.
“Is Papa attending tonight?” Marigold asked.
“Later. He is at Parliament tonight.” Selina wondered how much Marigold had been told by her sisters of her move from Henry’s house and the rumors being spread about her. She did not let Henry know she was aware of what was being said. He had hinted at rumors when she’d defended her position in moving, but she’d heard much more since then.
After Henry’s altercation with Crampton, she’d gone over what the vile man had said right before Henry planted him a facer. According to Crampton, the entire ton thought she was one of those widows who bounced from bed to bed. That, in itself, was not scandalous behavior since there were many women in her position who did the same, but she was guardian of two young girls. Her behavior had to be above reproach.
Hopefully, she and Henry attending events together would quell that gossip. He had been right, though. It seemed while she lived there the gossip had been subtle, but once she did the right thing by moving out, it had become more pronounced.
She didn’t think she was very wrong in considering Lord Crampton had something to do with that. Of course, the beau monde was well known for bouncing from one scandal to the next. All she had to do was wait until some young lady eloped, or broke her betrothal, or got caught in the dark in the arms of a rake. Then Selina and her minor issues would be forgotten.
“My lady, may I request you stand up with me?” Lord Natterfield approached her, taking her by surprise with her so involved in her own thoughts.
“Yes, of course, my lord.” She took his extended arm, and they made their way to the dance floor. She’d known Natterfield since her come-out years ago. He had married twice, produced no children, and word had it he was looking for another—young—wife to give him the needed heir. Which certainly was not her, as Henry so blithely pointed out the other day.
They stood across from each other in the line, and the music began. As they twirled around, Henry came into view, standing next to his daughters. She smiled brightly until she noticed him glaring in her direction.
Chapter 9
Henry merely nodded as Juliet went on and on about her new settee. He was far too busy watching Selina dance with Natterfield to pay attention. Whatever was she doing? Didn’t she know her behavior was under scrutiny with the entire ton?
Not that there was anything scandalous about dancing with a man, but she seemed to be enjoying it quite a bit more than she should. He’d also noticed Natterfield smiling like some sort of cabbage-headed idiot. Since it was well known throughout Society that he was looking for another—much younger—wife, why was he wasting his time with Selina?
“Papa, are you even listening to me?’ Juliet’s pout hadn’t changed in twenty years. Bless her precious little heart.
“Of course, my lovely. I heard every word you said. Your new settee sounds absolutely wonderful. I must come by one day with Lady Crampton and see it.”
Looking mollified, Juliet smiled and continued on with how the drapes behind the settee would now have to be changed. It was no wonder their husbands escaped the ballroom the minute they arrived at these various events. If he didn’t feel the need to keep Selina out of trouble, he would be there himself this very minute.
The thought no sooner crossed his mind when the music ended. “If you will excuse me, my darling daughters, I must have a word with Lady Crampton.” He hurried off, pretending not to hear Elise remark to her sisters how sad it was that Papa and Lady Crampton could not marry.
Indeed! It was that blasted deceased husband of Selina’s. If the man wasn’t already dead, he would challenge him to a duel and have the satisfaction of killing him on a field of honor. He dismissed the fact that Selina would not be in the quandary she was in if the man was still alive. Logic had no place in his loathing of the man.
“My dear, you look quite flushed. Shall I escort you to the refreshment table?” He’d caught up with Selina just as Natterfield bowed over her hand and took his leave.
“Yes, thank you, my lord.” She studied him as they wove their way through the throng. “Is something the matter, Henry? You appear somewhat disgruntled.”
He patted her hand where it rested on his arm. “Not at all, my dear. I was merely admiring you on the dance floor. You looked so lovely out there with all the younger ladies. I wonder why Natterfield would waste a dance on you?”
Bloody hell. Did he just say that? He felt her stiffen alongside him and begin to pull her hand back. He clamped his hand on top of hers. “My apologies, my love. That is not at all what I meant to say.”
She lifted her chin and viewed him from under lowered lashes. Lovely, long, dark lashes. “And what is it you didn’t mean to say?” It amazed him that ice crystals did not form from her breath.
Whatever fool thing I uttered that obviously has made you want to dump a glass of lemonade over my head.
He waved his hand. “Nothing at all, my dear. I was merely pontificating.”
Her brows rose to her hairline. “Henry, did you visit the brandy bottle far too enthusiastically before you arrived this evening?”
“Of course not. I am fully aware of what I am doing.”
“That was not the smartest answer, you know.” She shook her head. “I will forgive the remark about a dance being wasted on me if you care to explain what you meant.”
He took two glasses of lemonade from a footman and handed one to Selina. “What I expressed so poorly was my observation that Natterfield seemed to enjoy your company far too much while he admittedly is on the lookout for er, a—young—bride.”
Apparently, that explanation did not ease her distress because she slammed the lemonade glass down on the table, turned on her heel, and walked away from him. He gently placed his glass on the table, watched her storm off, and headed for the card room, a much safer place to be right now. Besides, he needed the company of his sons-in-law to add some balance after all these women.
An hour later, having lost some hands and winning others, he ended up no better or worse off than when he entered. As he strolled back into the ballroom, his attention was caught by Selina in deep conversation with Lord Mallory.
He headed straight for them.
“Mallory.” His clipped greeting had both Selina and Mallory turning to him with surprise. Selina’s slight smile encouraged him to step a bit closer to her.
She moved away.
He moved closer.
She glared at him.
He sighed and backed up.
“I was just telling Lady Crampton how very pleased I am that she continues to enjoy all our social events even though she is no longer chaperoning your daughters.” Mallory grinned in Selina’s direction. And winked!
“Is that right?” Henry’s stomach muscles tightened as he pondered the various ways he could strangle Mallory and still mai
ntain his status in Society. “Something in your eye, Mallory?”
“What?” He had the nerve to look confused. “I just wanted to point out that she is such a breath of fresh air.”
“True. I do find it easier to breathe when I am around her ladyship.” Henry turned to Selina. “May I escort you outside for another breath of fresh air?”
If the laugh Selina was desperately trying to swallow was any indication of her frame of mind, Henry was not in as much trouble has he’d thought. Pleased with himself when she placed her hand on his arm, he decided to be gracious. “I believe Lady Bowman is headed in your direction.” He nodded behind Mallory.
The man glanced over his shoulder, made a quick bow, and disappeared into the crowd, away from the notorious marriage-minded mama and the daughter she dragged along with her.
* * *
“Henry, what is the matter with you tonight?” They had left the noise of the ballroom and the patio where numerous people were also taking the air and strolled down the pathway toward the flower garden.
She sighed as he took her hand in his. In another month or so, Henry would retire to the country as he did every year, leaving her behind. London would not be the same with him not here.
He led her to a stone bench under a large elm tree, where they sat side-by-side. He raised her hand and kissed her knuckles. “I miss you, Selina. I want you back home.”
She shook her head. “Your home is not my home. You know that.” She pulled her hand free and stood, turning from his dejected expression, and gripped her middle. “I hate this, too, you know. This was not my choice.” She turned back, extending her hands in a pleading manner. “Please understand.”
He rose and pulled her into his arms, making her grateful for the darkness of the area where they stood. The last thing she needed was for someone to see them and start more rumors. “I have an idea.” He gave her that familiar grin that told her silliness would most likely follow. “I will adopt two girls, and you can move back and chaperone them.”
For the Love of the Lady Page 6
