A Curious Heart (Love Vine: A Regency Series) (13 page)

Recovering his self confidence at her confession, he gave Alana such a look that she could not disavow him and she arose from her chair when he looked at her expectantly. The pair quit the room, gazing at one another with deep longing.

"Well, that seems to be settled. Now for you two." The Countess grinned saucily at Sir Gordon to counter his frown of censure. "I suppose you want to walk in the garden as well?"

Not waiting for an answer, the Countess waved her hand at the French doors and spoke in a thoughtful tone. "Just beware the others who walk among my flowers. It would not do for the four of you to try to work things out. I will be the mediator in this."

Fully aware that she had lost all control over the situation, Countess Rothburn was not dissatisfied with the results of her meddling. She had managed to get them all to come forth with the truth and she was certain that before the evening had waned, she would be welcoming a new future daughter-in-law and giving congratulations to the other pair as well.

 Her only job now would be to soothe her friend Lady Janice, for the two of them had long hoped for a wedding between their children. She was certain, however, Lady Janice would uphold her support for the match between Sir Gordon and Lady Eleanor, for his manner and reputation were impeccable, and his coffers overflowing.

She did frown slightly at the thought of having to deal with Lady Grace, whom she had seen from a distance at various functions but had not come face to face with since her youth. She would, she decided with a squaring of her shoulders, be quite up to the task and would brook no interference from the woman, should she prove to be difficult.

Lady Susan watched Sir Gordon escort Lady Eleanor from the room, his arm about her waist, his eyes glued to her countenance with tender regard, her look mirroring his own. The Countess exhaled a melancholy sigh and fingered the locket at her throat, opening the clasp with dexterity borne of long practice.

Perhaps it was time to put the locket away, she thought, gazing upon her long lost love. She was young yet and her son would be married soon. Her purpose would be spent and she should look for a life of her own.

She had no taste for being consigned to the dowager status that would be her fate and allowed her thoughts to stray to a certain gentleman who had shown a marked regard for her over the years. Perhaps she would have a romance of her own.

* * * * *

Rothburn, guided his lady love to a bower seat in the far corner of the rose garden. "I know that my outburst was inconsiderate. I should have made my feelings known to you first, but Mother angered me so thoroughly that I could not contain myself. Can you forgive me?"

He stood gazing at her with pleading eyes that wandered to her lips.

Assailed by an impish desire to discomfit him before she allowed him a kiss, Alana kept her features smooth, her gaze bland. "You exposed me to censure with your avowal! I would that you
had
spoken with me first."

Seeing him squirm beneath the accusation, she relented with a smile. "However, as you have publicly announced your feelings, I shall allow you to do so again—privately."

Her last word was breathless as he reached down and drew her to her feet, crushing her against him, his open mouth descending on hers with fierce passion. His tongue swept between her slightly parted lips, ravaging her almost savagely and wrapping ardently around her own tongue, drawing it into his hot mouth.

Alana trembled, waves of heat washing through her blood and over her sensitized flesh. She strained against him as he slid a hand down her back, cupping her buttock with one hand, pulling her against his grinding hips, the evidence of his passion pressing hard against her abdomen.

It was a long time before the couple broke apart, only to come together once more as their hungry feelings erupted and overflowed in an erotic display. Yet when his hands strayed to her bodice, intent on pushing the material down and freeing her breasts, Alana came to her senses, pushing him gently away.

"Then you will marry me?" Rothburn's voice, rough with unfulfilled desire stroked her senses. His eyes burned into hers with such intensity that Alana quivered beneath his hot gaze.

"Answer me with a 'no' and I will not stop kissing you until you have changed your mind," he murmured against her lips as he nibbled upon them, giving her no chance to answer.

His hands returned to their busy task, and nearly pulled the ribbons at her bodice free before she could manage to stop him. His groan of frustration matched her feelings, but Lady Alana was not wont to lie in the grass and be tumbled like a scullery maid. She refrained from saying so.

Drawing back, she turned her head away, took a deep breath and whispered shakily, "Rothburn, I would marry you, yes, but you must learn to share your thoughts with me before you do so with others."

Her words were immediately stopped by his seeking mouth and this time his hands were not stilled or swatted away. Having gained her consent, Rothburn felt free to explore those places upon her person that he had heretofore only dreamed of. The lady did not protest, and in fact gave every evidence of welcoming his burning touch.

* * * * *

On the far side of the garden, Sir Gordon pressed his suit with Lady Eleanor. Seated side by side on the marble bench, the pair gazed silently at one another, seeking without words to convey their extensive feelings.

Lady Eleanor, blushing under his hot-blooded stare, lowered her eyes.

Sir Gordon, very much the courtly gentleman, looked away once he realized she was embarrassed by his eager passion.

Shyly, she stole a glance at his profile and sensing her eyes upon him, he turned his face to hers once again. A spark of electricity hummed between the pair and he drew closer, aching to touch his lips to hers. When she did not withdraw, he moved closer still, his breath warm against her mouth. Her parted lips invited him. Cajoled him. Called to him.

Murmuring her name with a tremor in his voice, he placed his hands upon her face and pulled her mouth up to his.

The touch of their flesh, one upon the other, burst into a fire of questing as their tongues contacted and the shy Lady Eleanor melted beneath his touch. Breathing in the essence of her scent, Sir Gordon lifted his head long enough to murmur, "I fear the waiting for you will be intolerable. Will you give me permission to call upon your father soon?"

Lady Eleanor, clasping her hands behind his neck, drew him closer and whispered, "Oh yes, Gordon dearest—the sooner the better."

A long silence prevailed in that corner of the garden, relieved only by occasional sighs and restrained moans.

Chapter Ten

~~~

Come away from there immediately!" Lady Susan spoke to her maid whose face was pressed to the window of the sleeping chamber. "For shame, spying upon those young people in such a manner."

She moved across the room and pushed her way in front of the servant, glimpsing the scene below with a loud harrumph. "Can you not see they are engaged in very—private conversations?"

"Conversations, Milady? Looks like not much is getting said at the moment." Aggie, long accustomed to her employer's eccentric ways, did not hesitate to wedge herself into the space, causing the Countess to shift her person aside to allow the maid access once more to the window.

"Impertinent baggage! I shall fire you tomorrow." Of course, having said this many times over the years, Countess Rothburn did not mean it, but as always, felt compelled to chastise her personal maid for her forwardness.

Both women trained their gazes upon the scenes unfolding in the garden and forgot to spar in their normal manner. Aggie, unafraid of her mistress and quite familiar with her in speech as well as behavior merely smirked. She had served Lady Susan as personal maid since they had turned fourteen. Being only a few weeks older, Aggie felt a deep abiding camaraderie with her mistress.

Lady Susan never spared her a scolding yet had shown many kindnesses, aiding Aggie's parents through famine and illness. She'd also given the old couple a cottage on the estate where they were now retired and content, well fed and prospering with the stipend allotted them by the largesse of the earl.

"So we are to have a wedding then?" Aggie regarded her employer with eagerness, knowing the other's longing for grandchildren, especially an heir to continue the line."Perhaps two, if my eyes don't deceive me."

"I cannot say. A kiss in the garden does not illustrate immediate betrothal." Countess Rothburn tossed a haughty glare at Aggie, her superior tone having no effect whatsoever on the woman, who grinned at her and stepped away from the window. Lady Susan noted her maid's speculative gaze, not surprised at the boldness of her next comment.

"Mayhap three weddings if you would not be so stubborn with Burlington." Aggie's sly allusion to the marquis' never-ending quest for her ladyship's hand hung in the air between them while the Countess gathered herself for a retort. Lips pursed in a no nonsense manner, the maids eyes gleamed mischievously.

"You leave that subject alone," the Countess warned her. "I will not have you meddling in my affairs, Aggie. You go too far!" Aggie had been pestering her for years to give in to the urgings of Lord Burlington and wed him. Her knowledge of the situation gave the lie to her mistress' accusation of meddling, and as usual, Aggie would not be suppressed.

"Well, then. What will you do once the master has fled with his bride? Whose life will you order then, if not Burlington's?" Aggie grinned saucily and escaped the room, laughing heartily at her own joke. The angry slamming of a bureau drawer followed her down the hall.

Beware the forwardness of servants
, Lady Susan thought—not without some fondness—as she removed the locket from her neck and placed it carefully in the very back of her jewelry case. She felt strangely light without the golden chain pressing against her skin as it had done for many years, since the death of her husband.

Though she had been quite fond of Rothburn, she'd never come to love him as she had once loved Mathis Pendleton. Clivedon had always known her affections were given elsewhere—had known it when they wed. Satisfied she'd made him an excellent wife, Lady Susan suffered no regrets, no guilt and no long drawn out period of mourning.

She felt somewhat the same about Lord Burlington as she had her husband, admitting a certain fondness for the marquis. Still she had never seriously considered his suit until now.

As she had pondered earlier, it was time that she did. But first, to get the foursome out of her garden and into the church.

* * * * *

The dinner went quite well as all present were in high spirits. The Countess, for once, did not deign to create any manipulative maneuvers, having had her fill previously in the day.

Halfway through the second course she agreed to speak with Lady Jersey on behalf of Lady Eleanor and by dessert she had agreed to aid both couples in smoothing the path of their new alliances.

Feeling quite sated by the bountiful repast, Countess Rothburn had mellowed by the time coffee was served in the small drawing room.

"I shall go 'round and see your mother first thing tomorrow, Eleanor. I wish to see her before Sir Gordon presses his suit to your father. Wouldn't want them totally surprised by all this, wouldn't  help your case."

"What do you think my chances will be, Madam? I've no title—" Sir Gordon looked at her over the rim of his cup, hoping she could shed some light on that particular dilemma.

"No cause for alarm. We shall simply do as we should have years ago... petition the crown for a peerage." Her words dropped into the room like a stone, stunning all and causing the knight to choke on the coffee he was sipping. "It's done all the time. Your grandfather... "

Countess Rothburn hesitated for a moment, pain evident in her eyes, which surprised the two gentlemen but not the ladies. "Your grandfather should have been given a peerage but he would not toady to the royals for it. His aid in bringing the economy round to solid ground was selfless and quite a miracle, as I recall.

"And don't forget, you are a knight of the realm in your own right. Fought for this country and have a good standing in the
ton
. No, it should not be difficult to convince Lord Burlington to aid us in this matter."

"Lord Burlington? What has he to do with anything? I can petition the crown and the Parliament." Rothburn looked closely at his mother, whose coloring was suddenly very high, then with some peevishness he said, "Don't need Burlington. Can do this myself. My friend, after all."

"Wait!" Sir Gordon interrupted with some forcefulness. "Have you run mad? I don't
want
a peerage. If my circumstances are not acceptable as they are, I will do naught to change them."

He glanced at Lady Eleanor—who had gone white—and spoke directly to her, his voice gentling considerably. "Your parents must accept me as I am. Can you understand? I would be—toadying, just as my grandfather would
not
do. If he would not, I certainly shall not.

"Our family honor is at stake here. Merchants though we are, we have rubbed elbows with kings and loaned them money upon occasion. And half the lords in the country owe their largesse to my family's expertise as tradesmen."

Not accustomed to speaking more than a sentence or two in company, Sir Gordon subsided, his hand held comfortably by his lady love.

"I'm not concerned if they disapprove. We shall be wed at any rate. If you don't want a peerage, I shall stop using my title as well," Lady Eleanor said softly.

Her whispered words carried about the room and brought a misty smile to Lady Alana, who valued her nephew and felt this young woman would make him the best of wives. Still, she had to agree with the Countess, and argued her point, pinning Sir Gordon with a somber gaze.

"Though you do not think you want a peerage, and mayhap you do not, it would not go amiss were you given an Earldom. It would justify the family—all the hard work and thankless tasks performed on behalf of Britain. It might be selfish of you to refuse such an offer, Gordon"

She drew a quick breath and continued before he could interrupt, as she could see he was about to do. "Think of the advantages to your sibling—and the children you and Eleanor will eventually have. It is not something to toss away lightly, I am sure."

"She's right, old fellow. Being an earl has great advantages. And you could further any cause you wished once you were given a seat in the house." This argument, put forth by Rothburn, had its effect on Sir Gordon, who had many causes he'd furthered using Rothburn's influence. It would be much better were he able to do so himself.

"I suppose I could allow you to try. But never think I am doing this for Eleanor's parents. I am swayed by your argument that I could do great things for the common good, were I admitted to the House of Lords."

He felt Eleanor's grip on his hand tighten in compliance and he smiled down at her, his eyes brimming with unspoken regard.

"Now that is settled, we must think of some way for Lady Alana and Rothburn to be accepted as a couple right away." The Countess spoke almost tentatively, having once been stung by Lady Alana for her meddling. She did not wish to suffer a second time from that girl's temper.

"It is quite simple, Mother. We shall be seen about at the various balls. I shall dance with only her and make my intentions clear—once Lady Eleanor has been given a chance to beg off publicly, of course."

He looked 'round the room as he spoke. "Anyone else have a suggestion that is better?"

"There is another matter that you and I need to discuss soon." Sir Gordon, recalling his edict regarding Griffin George, looked meaningfully at the earl. "Perhaps we can go on to White's later and—"

"Whites? You would go to White's tonight when you have only just been betrothed? Preposterous!" Forgetting for a moment that she no longer had the upper hand, the Countess glared at the knight and then at her son, who was grinning at her. "What's funny, may I ask?"

"Nothing Mother, except—no one is actually betrothed. Not until Lord Avonleigh accepts Gordon's suit and the
ton
has been satisfied that we are all re-aligned, so to speak."

Rothburn looked a warning at Lady Alana, whose posture had suddenly gone rigid, her face taking on that peculiar look it had when she prepared to give a set down.

"If the gentlemen wish to go to Whites, I have no objection. Although I had thought they might accompany us to the Beasely's card party." No one would think the worse of the four of us together. We do not have to convey our changed alliances. We can appear as a foursome and that will not elicit gossip, I am certain."

 Not one to play cards much, Lady Alana simply wanted to keep Rothburn by her side as much as possible.

"Beasely's?" Groaned Sir Gordon. "Surely, Alana you could find some other worthwhile place to go. I cannot abide Beasley and his feather-brained mama. I would rather stay here," he added hopefully.

"Can't. Having late guests and I won't have room for you." Lady Susan lied smoothly, her tireless efforts having taken their toll. She was now ready for her bed and did not wish to entertain the four young person's beyond another hour.

"Guests at a late hour? Mother, you never—" Rothburn stopped in mid-sentence at the look he received from his parent—noticing for the first time the weary  droop of her shoulders and the obvious strain in her eyes. He changed tactics at once. "Beasely's it  is then. Ladies, would you need to go home and change? I shall for a certain. Gordon?"

"Past six o'clock now. If we hurry, we'll all be spruced up and ready for the card party by eight." Taking his cue from Rothburn, Sir Gordon put a hearty note in his voice and agreed to the outing. "Mayhap we should include Allie. Girl's been pining away in her rooms. Should get her out and about, don't you think?"

At the mention of Allie, Lady Alana sat up straight in her chair and fixed the earl with a level look. "What of your cousin? Has he agreed to return?"

"Which cousin, may I ask?" Countess Rothburn, not privy to the story, looked rather confused. "You have so many cousins, Rothburn."

"Haven't heard from him yet." He answered Alana first, then turned to his parent. "Griffin, Mother."

He sent a questioning look at Sir Gordon who nodded compliance before he clarified the situation for his mother's benefit.

"Well, for heaven sakes!" She spoke with exasperation. "Get the boy here immediately. I'll have him up to scratch before any of you can say boo. I quite like young Allie. Met her at Mrs. Parker's ball. Sweet child, not one to be left wilting for want of a beau."