The Poor Relation (22 page)

A soft knock sounded on the library door, and Elkins entered,
extending a silver salver with an embossed calling card resting on it.  “You have a visitor, Miss Woodforde, the Viscount Camden.  I did remind him of the lateness of the hour, but his lordship insisted it was imperative that he speak with you,” intoned the very correct Elkins. 

The mere mention of Camden’s name had set Chloe’s heart to fluttering.  She strived t
o maintain an outward calm, saying she’d receive the Viscount in the library.  Then, having made the decision, she immediately regretted it.

Hastily, she stood and smoothed her wrinkled skirts.  She thought what a dowdy sight she must look in one of her old dinner gowns, a pretty but dated yellow muslin, void of any adornments or flounces.  It was too late to change her mind, for she heard Elkins directing the Viscount down the hall.  With a shak
ing hand, she tucked stray strands of hair under the lace snood at the nape of her neck and then straightened her spine.

When the butler threw open the library door and sonorously announced the Viscount Camden, her heart missed a beat.  He looked magnificent
in formal evening dress comprised of black satin knee breeches and coat, a white, elaborately embroidered waistcoat and the large emerald stickpin stuck in an intricately tied cravat.  Meeting his midnight blue eyes, Chloe was so surprised by their warmth that her knees threatened to buckle under her.  Out of desperation, she motioned with an inelegant wave of her hand for him to take a seat in a chair as she sank down on the sofa.

He ignored her gesture and stepped around the offered chair to sit on the coach, alarmingly close to her.

“Forgive the intrusion at this late hour, but as you can see by my attire, I’ve come straight from one of Prinny’s dinners at Carlton House.”  His smile was that of a small boy who’d managed to skip school.  He gave a short laugh and said, “Our prince was extremely displeased that I left so early.  Though ever the romantic, he forgave me when I told him of my mission.”

“Will that be all, Miss Woodforde?” interjected Elkins reprovingly from where he’d taken root by the door, meaning to observe the priorities and preserve her good name.

Ignoring the butler’s blatant hint of the impropriety of her receiving a gentleman without a chaperone, she asked if his lordship cared for something to drink.

“Not at the moment,” Camden replied with a glint of mischief in those dark blue eyes.  “But I hope to have reason to share a toast with you shortly.”

Before she could check her emotions, her heart lurched within her chest at the smile Camden bestowed on her.  She quickly brought herself up short, however, for he most obviously referred to the news of Lady Milbanke’s betrothal.  What other reason was there to call for a toast?  And how did he know?

“That will be all, thank you, Elkins,” she said, firmly dismissing the butler.

“Very good, Miss Woodforde.  I will be out in the hall, should you need me,” that worthy replied woodenly.  With great deliberation, he left, leaving the door ajar a good twelve inches.

Touched by Elkins’s fatherly concern,
though she found it humorous, Chloe smiled at Camden and apologized for the butler’s behavior.

“No apology necessary, my dear.  In fact, I would say that old minion is by far a better judge of my character than you,” he responded with such grim humor that it wiped the smile from her lips.

He took possession of her hands in his own large one and tried to catch her eye.  “I say that only as a warning, Chloe.  We were never able to have that talk at Clairmont Court, for circumstances compelled me to leave without saying good bye.”

There was no answer to this, so she persisted in keeping her eyes downcast.

Apparently provoked by her lack of response, he gave her hands a squeeze, demanding, “Chloe, look at me.”

But she could not, fearing what his sudden appearance tonight must mean.  Unbelievable as it seemed, he mean
t to offer her marriage.  Then, in the next instant, she was irrationally afraid he would not.  Finally she asked, “Why did you come here, my lord?”

The slight quiver in her voice alerted him to her agitation, and he answered simply, “Because I love you.”

Her eyes flew to his while an involuntary groan escaped her lips.  Putting one hand around her head, the other behind her back, he drew her to his chest.  Bringing her hands up to push against him, she tried to resist, but he easily overpowered her.

“Listen to me, Chloe,” he said almost pleadingly
, “I’ve not led an exemplary life.  Needless to say, there are many things I’ve done that I’m not proud to own.  But know this, you mean the world to me.  The thought of continuing life without you is unthinkable.  Chloe, my love, say you will marry me?”

She was beyond answering.  Tears slid down her cheeks, dampening his jacket.  Knowing her answer would hurt the both of them, she cried softly on his shoulder.  He release
d her and she sat straighter to find a large, white linen square proffered to dry her eyes.  She dabbed ineffectively at them for several seconds.

“What’s wrong, Chloe?”

“I cannot marry you,” she whispered.

“Why?” His retort was angry, belligerent.  “I won’t believe you do not love me?”

“Oh, Oliver,” she cried and lifted tear filled eyes up to his.  “That is just it!  I do love you, so much, in fact, that it hurts.  And for that very reason, I cannot marry you.”

His eyes narrowed before one dark eyebrow lifted in query.  “You’ll forgive me, of course, for accusing you
of sounding dimwitted.”

“I can
not share you, Oliver,” she blurted out and would have risen to flee the room if he hadn’t grabbed her in a fierce embrace.

“Share me with whom?” he growled, then pinned her to him as she struggled to stand.

“With your
chere amiees
, or Judith Palmer, or . . . or the next woman!”  She ended on a sob that reopened the torrent of tears.

Holding her tightly, he let her cry for a few moments, as one hand stroked her hair from her over heated face, resting on his shoulder.  “Hush, Chloe, hush and listen,” he admonished in a bare whisper.  “My days working with Whitehall have ended.  I would have come here sooner but for trying to complete business and cut all ties with my former life.
  It is time I look to the responsibilities of my estates.

“Chloe, I want to
take you to my home, Camdenbury in Hampshire.  It’s been years since I was last there, and it no doubt needs a lot of attention.  I want to devote the rest of my life to you, providing a real home, meeting your every want, and loving you at the end of each and every day.”

Raising her tear streaked face to his, she said, “”Can you honestly give up all those women?”

Tainted with bitterness, his laugh was outrageous, and he roguishly replied, “I swear gossip has greatly exaggerated their numbers.  What is more, there was not a one who meant anything to me.  It is you, and only you, who I need to warm my bed every night.”

He kissed her then, quite thoroughly and lasciviously to her utter delight.  It wasn’t many minutes before she began to believe he really did love her enough to give up his old habits.

A discreet knock was heard, and Chloe managed to break off his kiss just as Sir Morley poked his balding pate past the library door. The old gentleman chuckled as he advanced into the room.  “Ah, Camden, I see you’re definitely going to be using that special license you talked to me about.”

Thoroughly embarrassed and feeling a blush from her toes to the roots of her disheveled tresses, Chloe was unable to put any distance between the Viscount and herself since he refused to release her.

“You have stolen my surprise, you old curmudgeon,” Camden answered over Chloe’s head before he tilted her face up to plant a chaste kiss on the tip of her nose.  “What about it, Chloe, say you’ll have me?  I’ve a special license in my pocket so we can leave at first light for Camdenbury, and you will be my bride by tomorrow night.”

“But Aunt Sophia
--” Chloe began.

“Ain’t your problem anymore, my dear,
” said Sir Morley, cutting her off with a broad smile.  “What other excuses has the gel been giving you?” he asked Camden.

“Go away, Morley,” the Viscount replied ungraciously.  “I find I rather enjoy convincing the lady my own way.”

Of course, Chloe couldn’t condone such caviler treatment, yet there wasn’t time to object.  Immediately, Camden smothered her with those not-so-chaste kisses again.  And Chloe heard Sir Morley’s low chuckle as the door softly closed.

“Say you love me again, Chloe,” Camden whispered huskily in her ear.

“Oh, Oliver,” she sighed, “sometimes my heart feels like it could burst I love you so much.”

After he ran his tongue sensually along the delicate curves of
her other ear, sending exquisite shivers down her spine, he asked, “Then you’ll have me?”

Her answer was forestalled as he continued to demonstrate a few of his skills as a lover, and she became lost in the myriad sensations evoked with the touch of his hands.

Abruptly, he broke off his lovemaking and held her from him.  “You will marry me.”

Chloe heard the imperious tone, but it was the uncertainty, the worry she read in the depths of his midnight blue eyes, seeing the pain she’d inflict on him were she to say no that convinced her of his love.  With tears of joy brimming in her eyes, she smiled radiantly.  “I can think of nothing I want more in this world, Oliver, than to be your wife.”

He smiled, then slowly drew her closer.  One hand went to the back of her head to deftly remove the offensive snood and free her curls; the other explored her back as he began kissing her. 

Not very many minutes passed when the blissful thought crossed Chloe’s mind that Sir Morley had had the right of it about needing that special license.

Other novels available by Margaret Bennett:

The Hopeless Hoyden

Emily, country bred miss, is a misfit in the haute ton of Regency.  When she overhears two men plotting to kill Gabriel, the Viscount Lindemann, she flees for her life, running through the woods, and encounters the Viscount himself.  Mistaking him for one of her pursers, she welds a large stick and nearly unmans him. 

Gabriel is forced to attend a house party arranged by his cousins, who are rusticating to avoid their creditors and possibly jail.  Gabriel invites Emily to join the house party, which she does with the intent to discover the Viscount’s enemy. When Emily and Gabriel are found in a compromising situation, Gabriel is more than willing to accept an engagement with Emily.  She, on the other hand, is mortified, feeling that her hoydenish ways have ensnared the Viscount.  Unfortunately, the engagement puts Emily’s life in danger and Gabriel must find the proof he needs to banish his cousins.

                    
An Independent Lady

             
Having never found someone she could love, Amelia is not bothered by the fact that society considers her on the shelf--twenty-five and unmarried.  But her brother Edward is determined to find her a husband.  Once again Amelia attends a house party Edward has arranged with eligible bachelors of the ton.  This time an old suitor decides he wants her inheritance.