The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy) (14 page)

BOOK: The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy)
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Chapter 25

A Godfather and his Countess Discuss Propriety

Having just enjoyed his second helping of dessert with his wife, Milton Grandby, Earl of Torrington, held his wife against the side of his naked body. Adele was nearly naked as well, save for the pearl necklace that graced her neck.

“I rather like this on you,” Grandby remarked as one of his fingers traced the row of cream-colored pearls.

Adele grinned. “You say that about all of my jewelry,” she whispered. “Probably because you didn’t have to buy it for me,” she teased.

Grandby pinched her bare bottom. “Careful, there, my love. When I’m good and ready, I’ll bestow you with jewels that will put those to shame,” he claimed as he settled his head into the feather pillow.

His wife lifted her head to regard her husband with a quizzical brow. “I truly don’t need more baubles,” she said quietly. She traced the blond curls that covered his chest, occasionally reaching down with her lips to kiss them. “I had several callers this morning,” she said suddenly, as if she had been waiting for the perfect time to share a concern with the earl.

“Don’t you always have a houseful?” he wondered, his eyes closed as he enjoyed her gentle touching. In all his early years, when he had employed mistresses rather than take a wife, and then later, when he preferred the company of widows, Grandby thought never to marry. After spending a Season escorting Adele Worthington to every ball and acting as host for her annual musicale, he suddenly realized he couldn’t abide living without her. They were married by special license a few months later.

“Hmm,” Adele murmured. “It wasn’t the callers so much as the gossip. It seems Lady Evangeline is suddenly the
on-dit
,” she said with a good deal of concern.

Adele was suddenly displaced from her position half atop her husband when he sat up and turned to stare down at her. “What are they saying?” he asked, a bit of urgency in his voice.

Pulling a bed linen over her bared breasts, as much for warmth as for modesty when she realized their shared intimacy was over, Adele sighed. “Her neighbor claims a young man has been visiting the house – a couple of mornings this past week – and that Lord Everly isn’t yet in residence. Is that true?”

Grandby squeezed his eyes shut. “Did anyone say anything about last night?” he asked, one hand over his eyes. He split his fingers so he could peek at his obviously shocked wife whilst she considered his question. “No,” she answered with a shake of her head. “What happened last night?” she asked in alarm, raising herself so she could prop herself on one elbow.

Settling back into the mattress, Grandby sighed. “Lord Sommers showed up at nine o’clock so they could read a book,” he said with a shrug.

Adele stared at her husband for several seconds.
Lord Sommers?
“Then, what have they been doing in the mornings?” she wondered, her brows furrowed.

“Reading a book,” Grandby replied simply. “We are discussing Evangeline, remember,” he said with a hint of impatience.

Sighing, Adele fell back into the mattress. “I’ll have a word with her,” she murmured, a half-smile touching her lips. She was quiet for a moment, thinking she would pay a call on the earl’s sister. Or perhaps invite her for tea the following afternoon. Evangeline would probably be reading with Lord Sommers in the morning. “They must be reading
The Story of a Baron.

Grandby opened his eyes again. “How did you know?” he asked in surprise.

“Oh, it’s all the rage now, seeing as how it’s sold out at the Temple. I managed to get the last copy Hatchard’s had on their shelves,” she said with a good deal of pride.

Grandby stared at his wife, a grin forming. “You have a copy? Here at the house?” he asked, obviously pleased at the thought.

Adele giggled, wondering at his good humor. “Yes. And you can read it. We can even read it together, if you’d like,” she suggested as she waggled her eyebrows.

“You minx!” her husband replied, moving to cover her body with his own. He kissed her thoroughly before resting his head on her shoulder and realizing he was far too spent to make love to her again. “I’m too old for this,” he whispered before falling asleep in her arms.

Giggling, Adele wrapped her arms around his shoulders. “I don’t mind a bit,” she murmured and was soon sound asleep.

Chapter 26

Chapter Six: Primping for a Party

Dressed in her new walking gown, Geraldine regarded her image in the cheval mirror. Although the style was far more mature than what she normally wore, the deep green of the wool did nothing to enhance her honey blonde hair, nor her complexion. She leaned in closer to the mirror, studying her face, examining her neck, staring into eyes that stared back at her. The green irises seemed to bloom with bits of gold and then shrink as she continued to gaze at her reflection.

Forced to blink, she realized she wasn’t alone in the room. Geraldine turned around to find her maid frowning. “What is it?” she wondered, recognizing the frown as one of disapproval.

Simpson shrugged before finally answering. “I do not think this is one of Madame Eunices’ better creations,” she said carefully. “I merely wondered if ... perhaps she sent the wrong gown?”

Geraldine whirled around to study the gown in the mirror again. Of course, Simpson was right. The gown simply didn’t fit. The arms were too short and the bodice too snug and the color was ...

“All wrong,” Geraldine agreed with a nod. “Could you undo the fastenings? I’ll have a footman return it to the shop right away. Perhaps whoever received my gown by accident will have returned it to her shop by now,” she said hopefully. She could only hope there had been a mix-up in the modiste’s shop and that this gown was meant for someone else. If not, she would have to find a new modiste.

In the meantime, she’d have to find something else to wear for her ride in the park. And she couldn’t wear the pink ensemble again.

“Would you like me to get out your blue carriage gown?” Simpson offered, her suggestion bordering on hesitation.

Geraldine sighed. At least two seasons out of date, with its ruffle-edged bodice and cuffs, the blue gown was her only other option for a ride in the park, she decided. Geraldine studied the gown. Still in good repair, it was far more appropriate for a younger woman newly out in Society. But if she could tuck the ruffles under the edges and find a suitable fichu, she could at least make it look more modern. “Yes, please,” she murmured. “And bring some pins,” she added as she removed the green walking gown. “It might be old, but there’s no reason we can’t make it work.”

A half-hour later, Geraldine regarded her image in the mirror once again, one tooth buried in her lower lip. “Well, what do you think?” she asked of her maid.

Simpson smiled. “Removing the ruffles is an improvement,” she said with a nod. “Given some time, I could have removed ‘em proper and stitched up the neckline,” she added, pinching a bit of lint off the skirt. “I do hope the pins don’t stick you through the fichu.”

Geraldine nodded. She hoped not, either. There were at least twenty of them around the inside of the bodice anchoring the ruffles so they couldn’t be seen. If she moved too much to one side or the other, she was sure to be stabbed by at least one pin. “I’ll have you do that once I’m back from this ride,” Geraldine agreed, trying to decide what to wear on her head. “I’m thinking a hat instead of a bonnet,” she murmured, deciding the more mature look was appropriate. She was no longer a young debutante – it was time she started dressing like a young matron, even if she wasn’t married.

Simpson hurried into the dressing room, returning with two different hats. Geraldine helped herself to the red one. Part of its brim was pinned up against the crown of the hat and decorated with a jaunty feather. She lifted it over her coiffure and regarded her reflection for a moment. “This will do,” she said, nodding her head to see how the feather bobbed.
What will Lord Ballantine think of it?
she wondered. Would he find it striking or attractive or annoying?

Annoying
, she decided.

Geraldine took off the hat and examined how the feather was attached. She asked Simpson for a pair of scissors and quickly clipped off the quill from where it was attached at the crown.

“Oh!” Simpson exclaimed as the feather floated to the floor. “Won’t it be too plain?” she wondered, watching as her mistress placed it on her head again.

“Not after we attach a small bow made of ribbon,” Geraldine reasoned, reaching for a hat pin from the vanity. Within moments, she had a blue bow covering the spot where the feather had been attached. Pulling on blue gloves, Geraldine took one last look before taking her leave of her room. With any luck, Lord Ballantine would be impressed with her more mature look. With even more luck, he might ask her brother if he could court her.

Matthew Winters, Lord Ballantine, halted his barouche in front of Rosehill House, chiding himself for the nervousness he felt. He was merely calling on Miss Porterhouse. There was no reason to be so ...

Matthew stared at the reins he still held in his right hand. What was it about Geraldine Porterhouse?
Why does she have this kind of effect on him? She’s a chit
, he thought with a bit of derision. And the only reason he was here today was to take her for a ride and attempt to make it clear to her that she was ...

She was ...
what?

Fast?
He couldn’t tell her that. Perhaps her overtures had merely been misunderstood.

Bold?
She already knew that. She’d as much as told him she was.

Brazen?
Well, yes, but in a way he found rather compelling. He couldn’t exactly fault her for trying to get what she wanted.

Perhaps she wasn’t willing to settle for the first man her brother might find on her behalf. Matthew couldn’t blame her for that, either, he supposed, given some of Lord Afterly’s friends. Although he could count himself among them, the man hadn’t yet approached him about courting his sister. He suddenly found himself wondering why.
Does he know I would be marrying her for her dowry?
he wondered.

Well, not entirely, he had to admit to himself.

He would do so to save her from a reputation that was nearly in ruin. To provide her protection. To give her a home she could call her own.

To bed her.

Matthew squeezed his eyes shut, trying desperately to clear the image of her naked in his bed. Of her honey blonde hair splayed out on the goose down pillow. Of her parted lips ready to kiss his. Of her lush body welcoming him, embracing him with her long legs and elegant arms, the secret place at the top of her thighs providing a warm, wet haven for his engorged manhood. He took a ragged breath.

Damnation!

His eyes opening slowly, Matthew caught sight of the bulge behind the placket of his breeches.
Double damnation!
How was he supposed to escort Miss Porterhouse on a ride in the park when all he wanted to do was ravish her?

Well, if he were married to her, he’d be able to do so whenever he pleased.

But would she want him to?

Waiting another moment to allow his ardor to cool, Matthew stepped down from the barouche and made his way to the front door of Rosehill House. Not of recent construction nor located in a particularly fashionable part of Westminster, the yellow house appeared as if it could use a bit of maintenance. The lawn was clipped and flowers displayed a riot of color along the front edge of the property, although one of the pickets was missing from the fence. As he was about to reach for the lion head’s knocker, the door opened.

“Good day, sir. And whom may I say is calling?” the butler wondered.

A very frustrated, lustful baron,
he thought to reply. Instead, he said, “Lord Ballantine. I’m here to collect Lady Geraldine.”

From the suddenly raised eyebrows on the butler, Matthew realized his words were a surprise to the man.

“I’m right here, Smithton,” he heard a feminine voice say from inside the house.

The butler disappeared, only to be replaced by the woman herself. Dressed in bright blue and sporting a conservative hat – it didn’t even have a plethora of silk flowers or a feather arcing out of the top – Geraldine appeared as if she were already a married lady of the
ton
. Matthew felt a bit of disappointment, but it was soon replaced with a bit of awe. “My lady,” he said in greeting, doing his best to keep his jaw from dropping. She looked positively ... proper. And she was giving him a brilliant smile that had him forgetting what he was supposed to say.

He suddenly found himself remembering what had happened the day before. He remembered how her brilliant smile had been replaced by a look that suggested she was suddenly embarrassed by her assertion that he’d been thinking naughty thoughts about her. That if she’d had the moment to do over again, she might have allowed him a bit more time to respond, to deny her assertion. Had she done that, though, he didn’t know if he would have been brave enough to send the note asking her to join him on this ride to Lady Barrick’s birthday picnic.

The woman always had him so discombobulated! And now ... now he was supposed to be doing something.

“Good afternoon, Lord Ballantine,” Geraldine said as she curtsied.

Matthew bowed and reached for her gloved hand. He brushed his lips over her knuckles, his mind suddenly blank. When he straightened, he found her gazing at him.

“Good afternoon, milady,” he finally responded, remembering to offer his arm. Geraldine took it, just as she had the yesterday morning when he had met her at the Palace of Prose. And just as if they’d known one another their entire lives – which they had, Matthew remembered just then – they set off down the front steps of Rosehill House for an afternoon ride.

Chapter 27

Of Wants

“What do you want, Lady Everly?” Jeffrey asked suddenly, turning on the park bench to regard Evangeline.

Evangeline gave a start. She’d been so engrossed in the story, she hadn’t realized she was being addressed. “Want?” she repeated, thinking at first the tea tray had arrived and he was offering her biscuits, which was ridiculous since she would be the one to serve tea. And that was completely and utterly impossible because they were sitting in the middle of Grosvenor Square and there would be no tea served here. She blinked, attempting to bring herself back to the present.

“Yes,” Jeffrey replied. “Are you fond of jewels, or gowns from France, or some other manner of frippery?” he clarified.

Evangeline reached for the bookmark, realizing the baron wanted to converse instead of read. “My own home, I suppose,” she finally answered. “Children, of course. A husband who is as at least as fond of me as I am of him.”

The baron’s brows furrowed. “Is Rosemount House not your home?” he asked, waving one hand before allowing it to rest on his thigh.

Before the blush could color her face, Evangeline turned away. “Rosemount House is my brother’s home,” she reminded him. “When he takes a wife, she will be its mistress.”

Jeffrey shrugged. “Knowing your brother as I do, it may be a long time before he has a wife. Certainly, you’ll stay until then,” he reasoned.

Evangeline nodded, suddenly feeling a bit melancholy. His words made it sound as if her brother would marry before she did. “It certainly feels like home, but I’m quite sure whomever he marries will replace my mother’s chipped china and worn furniture,” she said, sadness tingeing her words.

“Perhaps you can keep them then,” he replied, thinking the furnishings looked far more comfortable than most in Sommers Place in Cavendish Square.

Evangeline seemed surprised by his suggestion, her face brightening. “Perhaps,” she agreed, wondering where she would put the stuff-n-such when the new Lady Everly moved in.

“Your brother will not mind,” Jeffrey said with a shake of his head. “Nor will your husband.”

Evangeline nearly gasped at the comment. “You say that as if you already know who he will be,” she replied in surprise.

Jeffrey had to tamp down the first thing that came to his mind. Of course, he knew. At least, he was pretty sure he knew. Trouble was, until he had a chance to discuss the matter with Lord Everly, he wasn’t at liberty to say. “Well, I do not know who exactly, milady. Any man who could claim you as his wife would be a fool not to allow you to bring along the things that have meaning for you.”

Evangeline stared at the baron for several moments, stunned by his words. “That would make for a small number of fools,” she replied with a teary smile.
Goodness! The man made it sound as if there were gentlemen lining up to court her!

Just one,
Jeffrey thought to himself.

Hopefully.

BOOK: The Story of a Baron (The Sisters of the Aristocracy)
9.8Mb size Format: txt, pdf, ePub
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