Already His (The Caversham Chronicles - Book Two) (12 page)

“I was hoping you might help me. It seems I’ve forgotten to purchase a gift for my mother’s birthday next week, and could use some advice on what to get her. To that end, I invite you to come shopping with me.”

“I’m sorry. I cannot,” she said, hoping her disappointment was evident in her tone.

“Why not? Is it because of your friend, Beverly? If so, she’s invited along as well. I could use the advice of more than one young lady.”

“No.” She shook her head. “Beverly and Mrs. Steen had an appointment this morning.” She felt in a quandary, undecided what she should do. She wanted more than anything to go with Michael and have the opportunity to be alone with him again. Yet, as much as she wanted to go, she was afraid she might once again make a cake of herself, asking him to kiss her.

His voice lowered to a raspy whisper. “Is it because of last night?”

“That’s not it at all.” She glanced at the ormolu clock on the mantle, desperate to change the subject. Every time she recalled their kiss she was reminded of her foolish behavior in begging him to kiss her again. “I’ve promised to ride with someone at three o’clock. It’s almost one now. I’m afraid we would never be back in time.”

“You will. I swear on my honor as a gentleman.” He extended a cavalier bow. “It shouldn’t take long to select a gift. It’s just that I can’t think
what
to get her.”

She thought a moment. On the one hand, she really did want to go with him. But on the other, what if she did and didn’t return in time? It would be unconscionably rude of her to break her plans with Sinclair. What then? She could make her most sincere apologies to Mr. Sinclair, and hope he’d forgive her and ask again. Or perhaps not ask again. It really didn’t matter. Michael was the man she wanted, not Sinclair.

Her mind made up, she smiled sweetly. “Only if you promise to have me back home before three, will I agree to go.”

“I promise.” He returned her smile. They really should give out awards for acting, he thought, for he’d clearly win. Without a doubt.

“Then, in that case,” she said, “let’s be off quickly. So I can be back on time.”

She looked magnificent this morning, dressed in a modest yellow carriage dress with a smart bonnet that tied under her chin, and a fine cashmere shawl. An odd sensation, like a stab of jealousy, coursed through him when he realized she’d chosen her dress not for him, but for Sinclair.

He spent many hours last night, contemplating his behavior at the Everly’s. He remembered their kiss and the soft innocence of her lips. It alarmed him to think that if he’d had the chance, he’d have taken her further. He’d actually wanted his best friend’s little sister—wanted her in a most possessive way. If the situation were reversed, he’d have thought his friend a degenerate. He almost felt as though he was, especially when he thought of the years she tormented him with her girlish infatuation.

For heaven’s sake, he’d watched her grow from nearly a babe!

But there was one thing he knew was certain as hell—she’d wanted that kiss as much as he did. All night long he’d tried desperately to deny that he’d kissed her for his own selfish reasons, but in the end he could not. He’d wanted to kiss her, to feel her lips come alive under his. He’d wanted to stir the passion in her to see if she was receptive to him. When she’d asked for a second kiss he grew nervous and uncertain for the first time in his thirty-one years.

He’d awakened after a fitful rest, then went to the office and began making inquiries into Sinclair. And now, here he was, handing her into his phaeton while a Caversham groom held the horses. Once she was situated, Michael went around to climb up next to her. Taking up the reins and whip, he smoothly guided his matched liver-chestnut pair into the traffic. He glanced over to Elise who was eyeing his team, and asked, “Where to?”

“I don’t know, this is your shopping expedition.”

“What I meant was, did you have any ideas?”

“Michael, I haven’t seen your mother in years and I certainly do not remember her well enough to predict what type of presents she may or may not like.”

“You’re a lady.”

“Thank you for stating the obvious.”

“You’re welcome.” He sighed, not wanting to argue with her this day. “Surely you must have some idea of what ladies like, or else why come with me?”

“Because you’re up to something and I’ve yet to figure out what it is.”

If it weren’t for getting her out of the house so Ren could deal with Sinclair, he would never have volunteered for this divine torture. “I should turn this team around and let you off at your brother’s again.”

“Don’t do that, I’m watching your horses. I like the way they move.”

“Elise, I was not jesting when I said I needed help with a present. My mother’s birthday is in ten days.” She was silent, as though she’d not heard him at all as she studied the team he was driving. “I should bring you to her party just to prove I’m telling the truth.”

“You’d do that?” Smiling brilliantly, she turned her laughing amber-eyed gaze to him.

For that smile, he’d tolerate her insouciant behavior. And more. “I just might.”

“Well, in that case,” she said sweetly, “we’d best get her something absolutely perfect. I’ve found the most wonderful presents aren’t necessarily expensive. Sometimes a simple gift, chosen with the recipient in mind and given from the heart is what is most treasured.”

He considered the suggestion, but again drew a blank. Jewels or some other such trinket was what he’d originally had in mind, and that might make a good start.

“Absolutely magnificent,” she commented. “There’s no sway to their pace. Where’d you get them?”

“My uncle had a passion for horses as well. The barns and fields around Woodhenge are filled to capacity with the results of his efforts. His personal office is filled with stud books and extensive pedigree charts. Everything is quite detailed. You’d have to admire the man.”

“I never knew,” she said, amazement obvious in her voice. She settled back into the seat and turned wide eyes to him. “Has Ren told you about my project, the one I’ve been working on these past few years?”

Michael nodded.

“Next year I should have several mares and geldings ready to sell. They are all under saddle and training daily at home. The mare I’m riding in the park this month will be for sale soon, though I did not breed her. I plan to bring them to town to finish their training just before selling them.” She beamed with pride as she spoke of her horses as though they were her own offspring. “Next year’s sale horses are the first of the crop I got when I crossed a few of my Arab mares with a Spanish horse I purchased that has a marvelous ambling gait. The result is a flashy little park horse, bred for a lady’s comfort in the saddle.”

“Ren mentioned something along those lines. How do you plan to advertise and market them?”

“By riding them in the park. Both Beverly and I. Then we shall spread the word that one or two are for sale, and rely on word of mouth.” She sobered when she remembered the time. “So, where shall we start?”

“Start what?”

“You see! I knew you were up to something, Michael. You cannot even remember we are shopping for your mother’s gift.”

“You make it easy for me to lead you in a jest,” he replied. “How about we start at the jewelers? Perhaps a cameo or broach....”

More than an hour later they still had not chosen a gift either wanted to give his mother on the momentous occasion of her fifty-fifth birthday. Item after item was rejected. He listened as Elise remarked on piece after piece as the proprietor displayed them. In her opinion, everything was either too gaudy or too common. One time she even remarked to the embarrassed man, “Come now Mr. Reed, I can name three other matrons with exactly that same broach. It’s not unique enough to be a gift to a woman of her stature.”

Michael appreciated the fact that she took her task seriously, for this was a real dilemma, not something he created to keep her from her planned excursion with Sinclair. Had he not required her assistance, he had every faith that Ren would have kept her locked in her room if necessary.

As they left Mr. Reed’s establishment, she mused, “I’m sure your mother already has a great deal of jewelry, and anything we purchased today would become just another ‘piece’ in her collection.” She looked in the window of the next shop and the next, as they waited for the groom to bring up his phaeton.

“Then perhaps something different,” he replied. “Larger, maybe?”

“What did you have in mind?” she asked, open to suggestions to consider.

“A mantel clock, a crystal vase, silver candelabra?”

With Elise seated on the cushioned bench next to him, he expertly maneuvered his team into the afternoon traffic. “No, those won’t do. But if you could please take me home, I shall think on it tonight and we can resume our search tomorrow.”

He turned his team into Regent’s Park and slowed his horses to a sedate walk. This seemed to irritate Elise who appeared eager to return home before Sinclair arrived. That she was taken with another man bothered him. Of course she had no idea what the cad was about and with any luck she never would.

“I’d hoped we might have a minute to talk,” he said. “I wanted to apologize for last night.”

“Apology accepted,” she stated, her frustration evident in her tone. “So there’s no need to continue this drive.”

An open barouche came toward them, slowed and Michael recognized a friend of his mother’s, Lady Thomaston and her daughter, Lady Clarence, and the younger woman’s two daughters. Both women were widowed, Lady Clarence only recently relieved of her mourning colors. Smiling broadly, the older woman waved to them and he cued his team to halt.

“Good afternoon Lord Camden,” both women said. Turning to Elise, Lady Thomaston added, “And to you too, Lady Elise.”

Michael nodded his greeting, and Lady Thomaston extended her sympathies with regard to his uncle, then began extolling the virtues of a drive in the park and how fresh air was important to one’s health. “I used to tell Lord Thomaston these same words, but he would never listen to me. And of course, neither did my son-in-law, else my daughter would not be a widow now, would she?” He agreed with her, which he realized too late he never should have done, as this only encouraged further chatter.

He smiled and held his tongue with a politesse hammered into him when he first began to study law. The fact that Clarence died in a duel over another man’s mistress was well-known. That his widow chose to recreate history perhaps for the benefit of her grandchildren was her business. And he didn’t know if more fresh air would have done old Thomaston any good because that man died of a fever on his sugar plantation in the Caribbean.

“Lord Camden,” said Lady Clarence, “Mother and I would love to have you come for tea one afternoon.”

“That would be lovely,” he replied. “Though I shall have to check my schedule before I can commit to a time and date. Send a note to my secretary, Mr. Overmeyer.”

“Of course, my lord,” said Lady Thomaston. “We are at your convenience.”

“And we’d love to have you, Lady Beverly and the Duchess come to tea as well, Lady Elise,” the older widow added. “Also at your convenience.”

Elise smiled at the women and nodded. “I should check with their schedules as well, you understand.”

“Of course, we understand,” said Lady Clarence.

Elise laid her hand on his sleeve and turned pleading eyes to him. Taking the hint, he bid farewell to the women and cued his horses forward once again.

When they were a safe enough distance from the ladies Elise said, “Those poor girls. They looked positively humiliated at the behavior of their mama, who was fawning over each word from your mouth.”

“Jealous?”

“Never,” she shot back. “Though, you could stand to listen to your own advice.” He gave her a curious look, to which she replied in a teasing voice, “You should be careful my lord, there are women out there who would want you only for your title and fortune.”

He threw his head back and roared with laughter, which unfortunately drew stares from those curious equestrians and pedestrians beginning to crowd the park. Michael hated calling attention to himself, though Elise seemed to have no problem doing so.

“Do you think a carriage dress could be cut any lower and still be called a dress? Really. Someone should warn her to cover her chest so she not catch her death of cold with so much flesh exposed.” With a huff, she turned in her seat to look straight ahead. “I kept waiting for her to lean forward a bit more to see what might spill out.” He chuckled, she looked over at him and continued, “You must admit, she was practically salivating over your every word, Michael.”

“Lady Clarence is a friend of my sister’s,” he replied. “She’s a widow, with two young daughters. Just like any other young widow, she’s desperate to marry again.”

As soon as Elise realized they were traveling further into the park she said, “Please, Michael, take me home. I’ve promised to ride with someone.”

“After we talk about what happened last night.”

“There is nothing to talk about.” She sneaked a peak behind them to the groom who rode in back. Then she said in a dispassionate and flat tone, “You kissed me, Michael. You know you were the first gentleman ever to do so, but realistically speaking, you’re hardly going to be the last. Grandmother says....”