The Hellion and The Heartbreaker (30 page)

Conner and
Julia were clearly head over heels in love with their new daughter and Scarlett
couldn’t have been happier for them.  However, despite the jovial
atmosphere, she had sensed their concern for her as well, and had done her best
to keep her attitude positive and upbeat.  The last thing she’d wanted was
to distract the happy couple from the joy of baby Rose, and to have them
worrying themselves over her own situation.

They had
stayed only a short while, for as she had suspected, Oliver’s fascination with
baby Rose was relatively short lived.  The moment she’d started to cry,
Oliver had covered his ears and puckered his lips in distaste.  “Can we go
home now Mama?” he had asked, over the infant’s surprisingly loud display of
dissatisfaction with whatever it was that had begun to trouble her.

As Julia
took the baby into the other room to see to her needs, Scarlett had pulled her
brother into a fierce hug.  “I am so happy for you, Conner.  You and
Julia have a beautiful daughter.”

“Thank you,
Scarlett,” he’d said, hugging her back.  When he’d pulled away, his face
had shone with pride and happiness.

“Yet another
fine addition to the family, if I do day so myself,” Conner had boasted
proudly, then reached out to ruffle Oliver’s mop of black curls, asking, “What
do you think scamp?”

“Babies are
loud.”  Oliver had replied matter of factly; casting an uncertain glance
in the direction his Aunt Julia had taken the crying infant, eliciting a
chuckle from his uncle as well as his mother.    

At present,
Scarlett was in the midst of her second outing since arriving in London, a
brief shopping trip to procure something special for Oliver’s upcoming
birthday.  Stepping down from the McPhearson’s barouche, which had been
pulled to a stop outside of a small, upscale toyshop on Bond Street, she
glanced about, grateful to see the sidewalk in front of the shop devoid of
patrons.
 
Aside from the driver and
accompanying footmen, she was alone, for she had left Oliver at home with Tess,
and knowing of her brothers’ distaste for standing about while she shopped, had
declined their polite offers to accompany her.

In spite of
her outward show of confidence, she had surreptitiously scanned the papers
prior to leaving the house, immensely relieved to find no mention of her
arrival in town.  She was aware of course, that the news of her appearance
in the city wouldn’t remain a secret for long.  Servant’s gossip traveled
as quickly, if not more so, than that of the aristocracy’s most rapacious
gossipmongers.  Between their own staff members and those employed at the
Ashcroft residence, word of her appearance was bound to spread quickly.
 For now however, she did her best to push the disturbing thought
aside.  As she entered the shop, she was glad to have something other than
her nervous musings to focus on. 

In response
to the tinkling sound of the small bell hanging above the door, the shopkeeper,
a young man with a welcoming smile, quickly made his way to the front of the
store to greet her.  “Good day, My Lady,” he greeted her cheerfully. 
“How may I help you?”

“Hello,” she
replied, nodding politely.  “I’m looking for a gift for my son.”

“Well then,
you have certainly come to the right place,” he exclaimed.  “We have all
sorts of things to spark the interest of a young lad.”  Adjusting the
spectacles that were perched crookedly upon the end of his narrow nose, he
looked to Scarlett questioningly.  “Did you have something in particular
in mind?”

“Well, no
actually.  I was hoping I might just take a look around, if that’s all
right?”

“Of course,
of course.  There’s plenty to see,” he said, waving his arm in a
semi-circle.  “My name is Mr. Tolbert.  Please let me know if there
is anything at all that I can do to assist you.”

“Thank you
Mr. Tolbert, I shall.”

As she moved
around the shop, she had to agree with Mr. Tolbert’s claim, for there was
indeed a great deal to see.  There were toys of every kind, from porcelain
dolls and miniature baby carriages, to wind up cars, spinning tops, and
elaborate model trains.  Oliver would have been in heaven.

Standing at
the rear of the building, she heard the distinctive tinkling of the tiny bell
that hung over the door as another customer entered the shop.  She didn’t
turn around.  Silently she prayed that it wasn’t someone she knew, and
kept her gaze focused on the beautifully carved wooden soldiers that had caught
her attention.  It was a large set, and included several dozen soldiers in
various poses, as well as a dozen horses, half a dozen wagons, and an encampment
comprised of several small buildings.  She knew Oliver would love it.

Picking up
one of the soldiers, she examined his brightly painted red and blue uniform,
admiring the careful attention to detail that had been given to the small
figure.  She was just setting it back down when she heard the shopkeeper
and the other customer, obviously a man by the sound of his voice, moving in
her direction.  As they drew near, she heard the distinctive timbre of a
voice she recognized.  There was no mistaking the cultured manner and
pleasing tone of the Marquis of Fordham’s speech.  She cringed
inwardly.  A moment later, he and the shopkeeper halted just a few feet
from where she stood, giving her no choice but to turn and acknowledge their
presence.

The marquis halted
in mid-sentence as Scarlett turned to face him, a hesitant smile curving the
corners of her lips as she waited to see if she would be shunned by one of the
ton’s
most prominent figures.  For
a moment, he merely gaped at her in apparent disbelief.

“Lady
Scarlett, what a delightful surprise,” he said, quickly recovering himself.

“Good
afternoon, My Lord.”  Scarlett felt herself relax slightly at the marquis’
friendly greeting.  At least he hadn’t given her the cut direct.  It
was more than she had expected.

“I had no
idea you were in London.  Have you only just returned?”

“I arrived
yesterday, with my son.”  She deliberately mentioned Oliver, wondering at
the reaction she would receive.  “His birthday is coming up and I was
shopping for a gift.”  She made a slight motion toward the wooden
soldiers.

“Ah, an
excellent choice for a young boy,” he said approvingly.  “And please,
allow me to offer my condolences on the passing of your late husband.”

“Thank you,
that’s very kind of you.”  She glanced somewhat wistfully at the toy
soldiers.  “My son is fortunate to have four doting uncles who strive to
make up for the loss of his father.”

“Indeed he
is.  I know your brothers well.  They’re a fine lot to be sure.”

His smile
was warm and genuine and Scarlett was reminded of just how handsome the marquis
was.

“I too have
a nephew.  Though it isn’t his birthday, I stopped, thinking that I might
pick something up for the young scoundrel.  Now I can’t help wondering if
it was fate that led me here today.”

“Fate?” 
Scarlett asked questioningly.

“Surely it
must be fate that led me to find you here, for once your presence becomes
known, I am certain you will be so bombarded with callers and invitations that
it will be near impossible to garner even a moment of your time.”

“I had
almost forgotten how charming you are, My Lord,” Scarlett said with a teasing
smile, but then grew more serious.  “I am not so sure that you are correct
in your assessment of my popularity however.  I fear I might not be as
well-received as you think.”

The marquis
regarded her thoughtfully for a moment, compassion and understanding evident in
his warm gaze.  “I think you will be surprised.  In fact, I am quite
certain of it.”

“I
appreciate your confidence, My Lord.  I suppose only time will tell.”

“Hmm.” 
His gaze turned contemplative.  “Perhaps we should do something to speed
things along then.”

“My Lord?”
Scarlett eyed him curiously, unsure of what he meant.

“As my
father is off gadding about the continent once again, I have arranged to escort
my mother to the theater this evening.  I wonder if you would do me the
honor of joining us?”

Stunned by
the sudden and unexpected offer, Scarlett’s eyes widened.  “That’s very
kind of you, but you needn’t…”

He held up
his hand, interrupting her before she could refuse.  “My motives are
purely selfish, I assure you,” he began.
 
“Please say you won’t deprive me of spending the evening with the most
beautiful woman in England on my arm.  It’s not often I have the opportunity
to be the envy of every man alive.”

Scarlett
blushed at the generous compliment, knowing he was greatly exaggerating her
appeal.  “But your mother…”

“My mother
will be thrilled to have you join us, I assure you.”

He was so delightful
and charismatic, and so sweet to offer that she couldn’t bring herself to say
no.  Besides, she owed it to her son to make an effort to reenter society
and restore her tarnished reputation.  The thought of Oliver being
punished for her mistakes tore at her soul.  If the Marquis of Fordham was
offering to help smooth her way back into Society’s good graces, she would be a
fool not to accept.

“I hope you
won’t regret this.”

“Never,” he
assured her.

Several
minutes later, with the carefully packaged gift for her son in his hand, the
marquis escorted Scarlett to her waiting carriage.  Handing her up, he saw
that she was comfortably settled, and then passed her Oliver’s present. 
“Until tonight Madam,” he said with a polite bow, and then closed the carriage
door.

As the
driver set the horses in motion, Scarlett leaned back against the velvet
cushions and closed her eyes.  She should have felt like the luckiest
woman in the world.  The Marquis of Fordham was as handsome as he was
charming, and any woman in her right mind would be over the moon to have
garnered his attention.  Why then did her mind have to conjure up the
image of a man with coal black hair and brilliant green eyes, she mused in
frustration.  In spite of herself, she couldn’t help wondering if he would
be at the theater that evening.  And if he was, was she prepared to see
him?  Clutching Oliver’s package tightly in her hands, she prayed for the
courage she would need to face him once again.

When she
arrived home, she went immediately to Colin’s study to inform him of her
encounter with the marquis and his subsequent invitation to the theater.

“Scarlett,
that’s wonderful,” he exclaimed, his expression jubilant as he rose from behind
his desk.  “By gad, if Fordham’s showing you his favor, even the most
sanctimonious despots will be hard pressed to show you anything less than the
utmost civility.”

She hoped he
was right.  The last thing she wanted to do was to cause any sort of
difficulty for the marquis, especially after the kindness he had shown her.
 However, not wishing to dampen Colin’s enthusiasm, she smiled brightly to
hide her misgivings.  “I do hope that I have something suitable to
wear.”  Fortunately, after giving birth to Oliver, she had regained her
former figure, but alas, her current wardrobe was likely to be woefully out of
fashion.  As her outing with the marquis was mere hours away, she could
only hope that a few of her gowns from her initial season wouldn’t appear too
outdated.  Thankfully, Tess was remarkably talented with a needle and
thread and could assuredly make a few minor modifications before the marquis’
scheduled arrival. 

“Gracious
Oliver, do slow down.”

“But I want
to show Uncle Colin what I found.”

Hearing Tess
and Oliver’s voices, Scarlett turned expectantly toward the door.  She
smiled at the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps and wondered what it was
that Oliver had discovered.  Knowing Oliver, it could be a rock, a
mushroom, a feather, an insect, or any number of things.

“Uncle
Colin,” he called, barreling through the open door, with Tess following a few
steps behind.  “Mama, you’re home.”  If possible, the excited smile
on his cherubic face widened further as he noted her presence.

“Hello
dearest,” she said, her heart swelling with love as it always did when she
looked upon his beloved face.

“What have
you found this time my boy?” Colin asked, as he walked forward and scooped
Oliver up and into his arms, looking pointedly at Oliver’s closed fist.

Grinning
from ear to ear, Oliver promptly opened his hand to reveal the large snail he
held within, holding it proudly aloft for both of them to see.  “I found
him in the garden.  Isn’t he grand?”

“Indeed,”
Colin agreed with the appropriate level of admiration.  “He’s a fine
specimen Oli.”

“I think he
might very well be the grandest snail that I have ever laid eyes upon,”
Scarlett said, her tone earnest as she stepped forward for a closer look.

“May I show
him to Monsieur Deville?”

“Of course
you may,” Colin answered, setting Oliver on his feet.  “Just be careful
that he doesn’t toss him in the cooking pot,” he teased, as Oliver dashed away
to show his prize to their French chef.