All the Ladies Love Coventry

by Dawn Brower

  “Tonight hasn’t been successful,” her sister said breaking Abigail from her thoughts. Perhaps we should just go home.”

  “The ball has barely begun,” Abigail replied. She had other ideas and she needed her sister otherwise occupied. “I think it’s time ye found a dance partner.” She looped her arm around Belinda’s and pulled her over to the two ladies she’d been listening too. “Hello,” she greeted them. “I’m Abigail and this is my sister Belinda.” She hated introducing herself. She didn’t like people in general and would much rather be at home—alone. But this was for her sister and well, herself, if she were to be honest. She wanted to talk to the mysterious man and gain a little more information on him. See for herself if he was worth dreaming over.

  The two ladies had matching startled expressions on their faces. The dark haired beauty regained her composure first. “I’m Lady Matilda Emerson,” she supplied. Drat. She’d forgotten to use their full titles when introducing them. Abigail was horrid at these things… “And this is my cousin, Lady Carolyn Westwick.”

  “It’s lovely tae make yer acquaintance.” Belinda smiled at them both. Her Scottish brogue came out as she spoke. At least she had a lovely voice… “We’re new tae town.” They probably already realized that much… Abigail held back a sigh and let her sister continue. “Would ye like tae pay a call on us? We’re ever so naïve about everything and could use some sage advice.”

  All right… Maybe her sister knew exactly how to handle the situation. The ladies would probably think it was a good way to guide them through the web the ton weaved. There were so many things that should or should not be done it could be difficult to keep track of them.

  Lady Matilda glanced at her cousin, then back at Abigail and Belinda. “It would be better if you called upon us.” Then she gave them their address. One goal accomplished, so many more to see completed. In the end it would be all right. Belinda would find a husband and Abigail could return home. There was nothing in London for her.

  The man that had caught her attention earlier came back into view. She nibbled on her lip and turned her head away. He wasn’t for her.

  “Oh…” Lady Carolyn sighed. “There he is again. He’s so elusive—do you think he’ll dance tonight?”

  “It’s not likely,” Lady Matilda said. Her voice filled with admiration for the mysterious gentleman. “Lord Coventry doesn’t dance. I wonder why he followed Lord and Lady Harrington tonight. He always has some reason for attending a ball though I’ve never been privy to the details when he has. My brother mentioned it before. Something about a club…”

  The more she learned about this Lord Coventry—alas she finally had a name to attach to his person—the more intrigued she became. He was back in the ballroom so finding him alone probably wouldn’t happen. Whatever chance she’d had vanished when he reappeared—that didn’t mean she had given up. At some point she would have a conversation with him, and then, only then, would she be able to ascertain his worth. Abigail prided herself on being a good judge of a person’s character.

  Three gentlemen approached them and before she had a chance to ask Lady Matilda or Lady Carolyn to expand on their earlier comments they were dragged off to the dance floor, followed by her sister. They left her alone near the edge of the floor. The one true wallflower in the bunch… Abigail sighed and decided leaving the ballroom was in her best interest. She didn’t want anyone to pity her. Perhaps she’d go find the ladies’ retiring room or the library. Maybe she could find a book to read until the end of the ball. Now that her sister had found a dancing partner she’d be occupied the rest of the evening. All those gentlemen who’d been secretly watching her wouldn’t stay away now…

  Resigned to spending the evening alone she left and didn’t look back. Though she wanted to. Not to check on her sister, but to glance one last time at Lord Coventry, but she had some pride and she wouldn’t give into the temptation he nearly burned with.

  Chapter 2

  Charles wished he didn’t have to attend the bloody ball. He hated going out in society unless it was necessary. Unfortunately, it was important for him to attend. There was an earl in attendance he hoped to lure over to the club. So far he’d been unable to locate him, but that was to be expected. The Earl of Shelby was an even bigger rake than Charles could claim to be. Shelby’s wife had died after giving birth to a daughter and he drowned his sorrows in brandy and women. He hadn’t looked in on his son or daughter in over a year. George believed if they invited Shelby to join the club they could guide him on a different path. The club was more than a den of iniquity. It was also a place where a man had a soft place to fall if need be, and that didn’t always mean the plushness of a woman’s breasts, but they didn’t hurt either.

  Charles chuckled softly at that last thought. He wouldn’t mind finding a warm and willing woman to share his bed with after he left the ball. He had to find Shelby and fast. He could almost feel all the stares from the ton ladies. No doubt they were all actively scheming to entrap him, at the very least into a dance. Charles didn’t dance with any lady. It gave the rest of them ideas. He did charm them when necessary, and unfortunately, it often became that way at society events. He had to attend them from time to time so he did his best not to alienate any of them.

  “Coventry,” a male with a deep voice called out to him. He turned and met Lord Dashville’s gaze. His dark hair was a little disheveled but he had a huge grin on his face. It had been a while since he’d seen his friend.

  “Dash,” he said and then smiled. “How are you? I hear you have a son.”

  “I do,” he beamed. “We named him Oliver after my great grandfather. I was going to come by the club to see you, but, much to my surprise, I heard you’d be here. What brings you to the Loxton ball?”

  Having Lord Dashville at the ball was a boon he hadn’t counted on. George would have to see to his wife for a good part of the event, but Dashville’s wife would have remained at home so soon after the birth of their son “Have you seen the Earl of Shelby?”

  “Actually, I have.” He glanced over his shoulder to a set of doors. “He was heading to the library I presume for some assignation. He was foxed from what I could tell. He weaved a bit as he walked.”

  Coventry held back a sigh. They’d have a lot of work cut out for them if they accepted him into the club. Harrington better know what he was in for because they’d have to sober the earl up before they could even discuss the details of the club with him. Being wicked and an earl was a bonus normally, but Shelby would need to get his life straight before they agreed to allow him entrance. They didn’t give a key out to the club lightly.

  “I don’t suppose you’d be willing to help me with him?”

  “Is he going to be your new member?” Dashville couldn’t be a part of the club because of his marital state. Somewhere along the way they’d only admitted earls to the club, but that hadn’t been their original intention. Dashville was a marquess. If he hadn’t been betrothed at the time the club opened he would have been invited to join. He wasn’t turned away if he happened to show up at the club. It was more like he wasn’t given full access and taken directly to Harrington’s office. That was how any nonmember was treated and actually knew the club existed.

  “We’re considering him. Harrington believes he can be saved.” Charles took a deep breath and then said, “I’m not so sure. I hope he can be because it would be a shame to lose a man with so much potential. Before his wife died he had so much promise. Now he is the worst reprobate in London.”

  “I thought you held that title.” Dashville tapped Charles’s shoulder with his hand and chuckled.

  He glanced at his friend and grinned. “Somehow he’s surpassed me. Though I do stop at seducing innocents. It wasn’t difficult to take my claim to that particular title.”

  They left the ballroom and headed in the direction Dashville had noticed Shelby going. They turned a corner and didn’t see him anywhere. The room was eerily quiet. There were not even any
servants around and Charles had to admit that it would be a good area to have a clandestine meeting. “Isn’t the library around here somewhere?” Dashville asked.

  “I believe it is. I’ll go check there and why don’t you go look in the garden. If you find him take him to my house and have my valet start sobering him up. I’ll meet you back there either way in an hour.” He could only do so much to save Shelby. If Dashville or he failed to locate him he’d try again another day, but he wouldn’t keep trying if Shelby was going to be too difficult.

  “All right,” Dashville agreed. “Good luck.” He turned and left Charles alone in the hallway heading toward the back gardens. He hoped he did find Shelby or at least Dashville did. The earl did need help.

  Charles frowned and then started to walk toward the library. He kept a leisurely pace even though he should be in more of a hurry to find the earl. His heart just wasn’t in it and he didn’t know why. Usually he thrived on the thought of saving a potential member of his club. He’d been struck with a bit of ennui lately and he couldn’t shake it. Something wasn’t right in his life but he didn’t know what. He couldn’t dwell on it at the moment though. Charles had to at least attempt to locate Shelby. The hallway was still quiet and that didn’t bode well for finding the earl.

  He took a few more steps and stopped. A woman stood near the entrance of the library. Charles couldn’t make out her features, but her silhouette was clearly a female, and a nicely curved one too. Maybe Shelby really did have an assignation in place and Charles would find him in the library. He really hated to interrupt a man’s pleasure but there was no helping it. Charles continued toward the library and followed the woman inside. She hadn’t noticed his presence and there didn’t seem to be anyone else in the room. The moonlight streaming through the window illuminated her features, but not enough for him too get a good enough look at her. He wanted to see her and discover if she was as lovely as her shadowy figure suggested. One thing he did know—she wore white. That usually was a color reserved for debutants, otherwise known as innocents. What was a virgin doing meeting Shelby in secret? Did she believe the earl would marry her? Charles would have to disabuse her of that notion.

  He stepped closer and said, “Are you lost?”

  She jerked at his question. Maybe she hadn’t been expecting someone after all. A woman planning on meeting a man wouldn’t be startled by the sound of a male voice. “Who’s there?” she asked.

  She had a lovely Scottish accent that sent shivers down his spine. There were not too many women from Scotland attending London balls. He hadn’t heard of any new arrivals either. Not that she couldn’t have just come out in London. Charles didn’t keep tabs on any of the debutants. He just usually heard about them whether he liked to or not. “You didn’t answer my question,” he teased. “Deflecting a question with one isn’t very becoming, my dear.”

  He walked over to the hearth and skimmed his fingers across the top until he located the tinderbox. Then he leaned over to work on starting a fire. It was bloody cold in the room and he had a feeling they’d be there for a little while. It would also help to light the room a little bit and he could gain a better look at the chit.

  “What are ye doing?” she asked.

  “I think a fire will make things better don’t you?” He didn’t stop what he was doing to look at her. Charles wanted a fire and he’d see one lit. After he was done he’d give her all of his attention.

  “Dae ye even know what yer doing?” She’d come to stand beside him and was now leaning down critiquing his technique.

  Charles chuckled lightly. He kind of liked her. She wasn’t trying to preen before him and catch his interest. That was rather refreshing. “I have lit a few fires in my day.” In more ways than one… “Trust me, I can handle this.”

  “Something tells me yer not just referring tae setting a blaze alight in the hearth.” She took a step back. “Ye didn’t answer my earlier question. Who are ye?”

  He stood to his feet after the fire was burning brightly and placed the tinderbox back in place. Charles turned to glance at her and chastise her for her rude behavior, but didn’t manage to utter a word. The fire made her absolutely breathtaking. Her dark red hair was like a flame that crackled in the light and her fair skin was delectable. It was almost inviting him to taste it, but he held back. That was his own desires, not hers, springing forth. He swallowed hard and then cleared his throat. His cock tightened in his breeches and he prayed she didn’t notice. “I trust from your continued deflection you’re not lost.”

  “No,” she agreed. “And I trust yer fancy way of changing the topic of our conversation is yer way of avoiding introducing yerself.” A soft smile formed on her face and made her even lovelier. “But ye needn’t worry. Yer name matters not tae me.”

  “Is that so?” He lifted a brow. “Why is that?”

  She shrugged and turned away from him and headed to the window. The young lady stared outside and up at the dark sky. “Because I’m not staying in London. There’s nothing here for me. Once my sister finds a husband I’m returning home and never coming back.”

  That almost sounded like a challenge. “You are keeping your distance so you’re not tempted to stay.” It was something he would do. She was a kindred spirit and he respected it, even if he disagreed. A woman as vibrant as she was shouldn’t close herself off from the world.

  “That’s one way of perceiving things.” She continued to look out the window and apparently wanted to ignore him. That bothered Charles far more than he wanted to admit.

  “A little conversation never hurt anyone,” he began. “Becoming acquainted with me won’t ensure you’ll become enraptured with me or London. Why not take a gamble and discover something new.”

  “I’d rather not,” she said. “I’m not the wagering sort. Risks are not something that lead anywhere good in my experience.”

  She was being too elusive and he wanted to crack her carefully crafted shell. If he wanted to start picking away at it he’d have to give her the tools to do so. “You may not wish to know me in truth,” he began, “But I think we’re going to be the best of friends.” He bowed to her. “Let me introduce myself. I’m the Earl of Coventry, but you my dear, may call me Charles.”

  She glanced over her shoulder at him. Her lips parted, but no words came out. Then she smiled. “And I’m late returning tae the ball my lord. Dinna bother calling me anything. I doubt we’ll meet again.”

  With those words she brushed past him and left him alone in the library. Charles had never been more intrigued in his life. He would discover her name and they would meet again. He’d do is damned best to ensure it.

  Chapter 3

  Bright rays of sunshine streamed through the windows of the sitting room and illuminated the entire area. It was far too bright to read and Abigail had trouble holding in her irritation. How was she to learn anything about Greek mythology if she couldn’t focus on the words? She grumbled and closed the tome with frustration, then tossed it on the empty chair next to her.

  “Lovely,” Belinda said. A satisfied smile filled her face. “Now that yer done trying tae be scholarly would ye like tae join me for a walk at Rotten Row?”

  Abigail scrunched up her nose and then sighed. She might as well go with Belinda for some exercise. There wasn’t a chance she could read anymore with the sun blinding her. Maybe she’d read more later in her room. She wouldn’t be able to do much by candlelight. It would strain her eyes a bit, but she could get some more reading in for a short time. “All right,” she agreed. “I’ll join ye for a walk. Tell Bessie that we need her and a footman tae accompany us. We need tae make sure tae keep yer reputation intact so ye can secure one of these London gentleman as a husband.”

  Belinda lifted a brow. “Ye dinna care tae keep yer own reputation intact? Why ever not?”

  Because she’d decided that she didn’t care if she ever married. The man from the other night—the Earl of Coventry—had intrigued her, but he was clearly a ro
gue. All the London ladies might want a chance at taming him, but Abigail had better things to do with her time. She’d gained his attention and that was enough for her. It was all too easy to get him to notice her and she hadn’t really been trying. “I have my reasons.” It was the only answer she intended to give her sister.

  “Ye may think ye keep yer emotions inside,” her sister began. Her lips tilted upward into a smug smile. “But I know ye. I saw how ye looked at that gentleman the other night at the Loxton ball. He appealed tae ye. Maybe we can still discover his identity and discern a way for ye tae gain his attention.”

  Of course her sister had noticed her interest in Lord Coventry. The earl was handsome as sin, and he probably did sin better than most men, but there was more to a man than his pleasing appearance. “I dinna need help with that. I dinna want tae gain his attention.”

  Her sister tilted her head to the side and studied her. “Ye are hiding something. What dae ye know?”

  “Not a thing,” she reassured Belinda. “Are we going tae Rotten Row or not?”

  “All right,” Belinda acquiesced. “I’ll allow ye tae keep yer secrets—for the moment.” She stood and then met Abigail’s gaze. “But I will uncover the truth and then I’ll want answers.”

  Abigail shrugged. “There’s nothing tae find.” There really wasn’t. Even if Belinda discovered she’d had an encounter with Lord Coventry in the library there wasn’t anything that would come of it. No one saw them—thank God. The last thing she needed was a forced marriage. They’d both end up miserable in the end. Abigail fully intended to live a long and happy life and that did not include a marriage of convenience. Though only bright side to a union with Lord Coventry was her attraction to him. The rest would be completely superficial.