Conduct Unbecoming of a Gentleman (3 page)

“He’s not been in the ground even six months and you traipse off to France with my ward in tow. No doubt to meet a lover,” he said in a bitter voice.

“How dare you accuse me.” She glared at him and fought for control. Because her situation was too precarious for her to lose her temper, she faked a calm she did not feel. Biting her bottom lip and unable to fully suppress her emotions, she dropped her gaze to the floor. She’d be damned if she would let him read how his accusations wounded her.

“I was on the way to visit my Aunt Betsy in Sussex. She doesn’t travel well and I needed time away.” Her voice trailed off as she shrugged.

“I stand corrected.” Adron lifted his brows. “But you still need my permission to take Jamie on a trip.”

“I’m his mother and as such I have some say.”

“According to the law you don’t.”

Visibly shaken by the truth, she sank into the chair at her side. The question of how to combat this stern, unyielding man tore holes in her thoughts. She lifted her gaze to meet his. “A tyrant then, that all must obey?”

His jaw tightened. “Your tongue is about to overload your shoulders,” he warned. “I’ll demonstrate tyrant for you. From today forward the child will abide under my roof and access rest with me.” He took his seat behind the desk again.

His agitating touch on her arm had filtered all the way to her toes and she was thankful to have him a safe distance away. She forced out a breath between clenched teeth, hating him and his autocratic pronouncements.

“Your threat is useless. I shall abide under your roof as well,” she said in the same haughty tone he had used.

He lifted one brow, his stare direct and searching. “Perhaps, I’ve been overly harsh. However, I owe it to Robert to guard his son.” He drew a sharp breath. “You may have full access to Jamie,” he hesitated and seemed to ponder his words. “As his nanny. In that situation, I can control his surroundings, keep him safe. You understand.”

She moistened her lips and cleared her throat. “I will put up with much to be with my child.”

“Very affecting, to be sure but I dare say this attitude of a loving mother is only for show,” he droned with that hateful crook of his brow still in evidence.

Elevating her chin, she tried to stare him down. “You’re wrong.”

His smile appeared more as a grimace. “Prove it. My sister will be here in a few days with her brood. Since we’re already established your role in regards to Jamie, I suggest you step into the nanny position with her children as well.” He held up his hands. “Only for a short while. That would allow a full reading of your character. Instead of a glimpse of this mothering temperament you claim, your entire nature would be on display.”

She gazed up at him with an incredulous stare. “Are you serious? Why?”

“My aim is to protect Jamie. If you’re to atone for the past . . .”

“You know nothing of the past,” she interrupted. Fighting to control the urge to pummel him, she glared at him instead.

He remained silent for a long, uncomfortable moment, his gaze doing battle with her steady regard. “I have it on good authority that you’ll try to paste an acceptable façade on your actions for a while, but remember the part you play will be your only access to my ward,” Lord Gladrey mocked. “No doubt your devoted mummy act will quickly disappear.”

“You are wrong.” She moistened her lips and cleared her throat. “I love my son and intend to be with him. I don’t mind where I sleep. Even the attic will do.

A glint appeared in his narrow-eyed stare and his scrutiny intensified. “You’re a desirable woman, passionate, full of life and longings. It must have been hard for you when Robert returned home impotent and crippled,” he sympathized. “I’d imagine a young widow has long denied needs. Needs that I might be willing to fulfill if you ask nicely. I admit I’m attracted to you.”

Mortified, swift color scalded her neck and rose to her cheeks. He had deliberately twisted her words for which she longed to slap his sneering face.

“You—you . . .” Forced to swallow her helpless rage, her voice sank to a choked whisper.

He cocked his head to the side. “It’s as well you managed to swallow those words.”

“You wretched, unprincipled cur.” She glared at him, her nails digging into her palms.

“As bad as all that, huh?” Amusement lit his eyes before he sobered. “Well, the offer stands if you change your mind.”

Fury swamped her and speech was almost beyond impossible as fresh tears stung the back of her eyes. She dared not look directly at him, but stared at his forehead and shot a stiff response at him. “This is ridiculous.”

He shrugged. “It’s that or nothing. Your choice.”

Laurel elevated her chin even higher. “I’ll be happy to depart with my son as soon as may be.”

“I warn you. If you leave here, you’ll leave without my ward. I told you, I must make certain all is well for Jamie.”

“Then you will never be shed of me. Do your worst,” she invited with fire in her eyes. Her entire body tightened with determination.

“So, you accept my terms.” A wintry smile crossed his features and he inclined his head. “At your behest, so be it. One of the servant girls will be available to sit with the children when you are required to appear at family meals or any other social gathering I deem necessary.”

He seemed determined to have his way and his tactics were as subtle as a battering ram. With a bruised spirit, she remained silent. Every time she opened her mouth the situation seemed to grow worse.

“I shall keep you under close scrutiny, so watch yourself.”

A lump formed in her throat and she swallowed several times before her gaze locked with his.

“With my sister’s brood added to the mix, I dare say that dealing with a full nursery will be beyond you.”

“Certainly not. I’ll never give up,” she promised, her lips in a grim line. “No matter the afflictions you choose to burden me with.”

She couldn’t read his expression but his eyes gleamed. “You will meet the rest of the family at dinner tonight.”

“I’d rather be excused.”

“So soon? I’d have given odds you would’ve held firm a while longer—for Jamie.”

She wouldn’t plead with this—this misbegotten cur. All she really wanted was to hold Jamie in her arms and in her exhausted state sink into slumber.

Laurel swallowed nervously under his unwavering stare. Tilting her head to the side, she allowed a meaningless smile to touch her lips. “You shan’t cut up my peace so easily. I’ll be charmed to meet your family tonight.”

Momentary surprise widened his eyes. “That’s wise.”

Satisfaction glittered in his gaze making the urge to fling herself down on the floor and drum her heels in frustrated rage nearly overwhelming.

Adron leisurely deposited the quill he’d been rolling between his hands aside and laced his fingers together. He continued to regard her from beneath lowered lids, his gaze trained on her tightly clasped hands and his expression became more guarded.

“You do fully understand your duties?”

She continued to meet his stare, but she remained silent.

“A maid will clean the nursery and serve the meals. You are only required to do what any loving mother would. Supervise baths and tuck the little ones in bed each night.”

His voice grew a trifle wistful. “Hugs and kisses all around. That sort of thing.”

“Certainly.”

“Naturally you will continue to take meals with the family and to attend any engagement I deem necessary—however late.”

Still she remained quiet, saying nothing to fill the expectant pause. She couldn’t utter a word else she might break down or lose her grip and do something ill advised—like shoot the sorry sod. Would this day never end?

“Do you understand?”

Laurel gave a tight little smile. “I understand. All this is absurd.”

“I hold that I’m doing nothing more than safeguarding my ward.” He frowned. “Certainly this situation is not what one would wish. However, I feel sure we shall arrive at some mutual agreement.” He paused as if to gather his thoughts. “Consider yourself free to pursue marriage to whichever gentleman you can snare, and there should be several.”

Laurel narrowed her lids. “I take it I’m to marry and leave my son with you.”

Adron dipped his head in a nod, his gaze never leaving her face. “The boy stays here.”

Shocked beyond belief at his ludicrous suggestion, she could scarcely contain her temper much less rise from her chair, but finally she managed to stand and curtsy.

Every word that flowed from his mouth strengthened her resolve not to weaken. “I won’t leave here without my son.

Vaulting to his feet with nostrils flared, he glared at her. “Soon, you’ll want to leave, to gad about, to remarry, to live a life as any young, attractive woman would want to do, but you’ll do so without my ward. He is mine to protect. Your devotion won’t last forever.”

“I won’t leave my son,” she repeated between her teeth.

“We’ll soon see—won’t we?”

She squared her shoulders and faced him. “We shall indeed.”

Chapter 3

Laurel surveyed the room that would be her future home in the glow of a lamp and grimaced. The light was more substantial than the single candle she had been allotted earlier, but a closer inspection of the small space did nothing to improve the chamber. Three strides in any direction would find her nose pressed against a wall. She was alone at last, no longer under the earl’s fierce scrutiny with his dissecting stare that stripped her to the soul. Heaving a sigh of relief, she sank onto the narrow bed.

Lord Gladrey’s accusations concerning Robert were untrue and wounding, possibly as he’d hoped. His proposition was another matter and a fresh blush of mortification scorched her cheeks. His conduct was unforgivable.

She had landed in a quagmire of problems, but at least she was with her son. Desperately weary, she surveyed the chamber. The room was adequate for her needs and well scrubbed—a servant’s quarters on the floor above the nursery. Certain this simple chamber was the first in a long line of slights and supposed hardships, she snorted. He had promised to create difficulties for her to overcome, but if this pokey little room was the best he had to offer, his plan would never work.

Shoving those thoughts aside, she rose to her feet. She dared not be late for the first meal under his roof. Reaching for the additional garments draped over the back of the only chair in the room, she inspected the rest of the apparel. Selecting a soft kerseymere gown in lavender suitable for a widow in mourning, she held the garment up in front of her. At least this gown had a stylish neckline embroidered with rosettes and a double flounced hem. With a sigh, she glanced at the borrowed corset she’d been forced to abandon. Because of Lord Gladrey’s harsh stance against her, she had no maid to assist with her toilette.

The maid only serves the children,
she mimicked under her breath.
She resented the need to flout convention by appearing without a corset, something a proper lady would never do, but she couldn’t lace such a garment without help.

The gown alone did little to push up and display her bosom or nip her in at the waist. Playing the role of a barely tolerated, indigent relative diminished her worth, and the discovery of a pair of white, silk stockings among the clothing did nothing to alleviate her feelings of ill usage.

Arranging her hair pulled back in a demure style suited her mood. Laurel wasn’t satisfied with the effect, but on short notice this was the best she could do. Exiting the chamber, she squared her shoulders and picked up her skirts to descend the stairs. It was time to face the enemy.

Lord Gladrey met her at the bottom of the steps and surveyed her from the crown of her head to the hem of her gown. “Not so very different from your dull, rain soaked garments.”

“A dowd to be sure,” she acknowledged. Her lips curved upward in a mocking smile and she elevated her chin.

“Come, let us join the others.” He hesitated, poised to comment further, but said nothing further about her appearance.

Laurel stepped forward and placed her fingers on his extended arm. For the first time, she was aware of him as a man, a strong, capable man, not merely the enemy. Male trumpeting to female and suddenly, with every feminine part of her being, she longed for him to look on her with favor instead of disdain. She took a deep breath, inhaling his spicy scent and followed him into the drawing room.

Facing the family en mass was somewhat daunting. As unobtrusively as possible, she studied the assembled group starting with the elderly lady seated on one of the four ivory-brocade sofas. Her deep purple gown, draped with a paisley shawl, reminded Laurel of the garments offered to her earlier. This must be Lord Gladrey’s grandmother. Laurel hoped when she reached that advanced age, her white hair would be as thick and lovely as his grandmother’s. Her features were still stamped with traces of past beauty, displayed in her sparkling brown eyes, much like Lord Gladrey’s.

Laurel allowed her gaze to drift around the room, touching the light cream walls and moving to the tall window hangings that matched the sofas. The fireplace surround of white marble, the wingback chairs in the same light fabric as the sofas, plus the darker cream tables scattered about the space, gave a sterile quality to the room. No doubt Lord Gladrey had selected the whole—stern, stark décor—intimidating like the master.

Lord Gladrey drew her forward. “Lady Heloise Gladrey is my grandmother.” He glanced at Laurel. “And this lovely lady is her god-daughter, Miss Melissa Rainy.”

Melissa’s big hazel eyes stared at Laurel and she finally inclined her head slightly in recognition of the introduction. Laurel returned her regard, surveying Melissa’s light golden-brown hair done in the latest fashion above a lovely face with a pert nose and a rosebud mouth. A yellow silk gown completed her youthful perfection, but the cool disdain in Melissa’s gaze spoiled the picture.

Melissa lost all pretense of interest in Laurel and pouted up at Lord Gladrey. “I can hardly believe you missed our morning ride with silly old business,” she scolded.

He grinned down at her. “Your distress is noted. No doubt Edmond accompanied you.”

“True, but a mere secretary is hardly worth mentioning and besides he wasn’t you.”

“Don’t be uppity. Edmond serves me well.” His expression softened. “Be nice and I promise to make it up to you.”

When?” Melissa demanded.

“Soon. I have business to see to now.”

Laurel caught Melissa’s eye roll as she shrugged one shoulder. He turned back to Laurel. “This is my younger sister, Paige. Allowed to dine ‘en famille’ at long last.” He laughed down at his sister. “A grown up miss as you see.”

Paige, a young girl of twelve with her brother’s dark hair and brown eyes, sniffed and rustled her sprig muslin skirts, but she grinned up at Laurel. Pleased to discover a friendly face, Laurel returned her smile.

“I believe I’ve introduced you to everyone except perhaps Sir George Dunaway, a friend and neighbor.” He indicated a gentleman of average height with a distinguished appearance and a handsome head of wavy coin gold hair.

“George, may I present Lady Laurel Laningham, my ward’s mother.”

George bowed and gathered her hand in one of his. “Charmed, I’m sure. A mother you say?” He grinned down at her and kissed the back of her hand. “She seems far too young.”

With an appreciative smile, Laurel withdrew her hand. “Thank you kind sir.”

A commotion at the door drew everyone’s attention and Lady Rhonda Laningham swept into the opening. Her eyes sparkled and her lips lifted in a contrite smile. “I apologize for my tardy arrival but the trip here was atrocious.”

“Ah, Rhonda. Here at last and welcome.” Adron gathered her into his arms, kissing her cheek.

“I believe you are known to everyone.” He switched his gaze to Laurel seemingly to emphasize his alliance with his cousin.

Laurel’s spirit sank. She’d left Landings to escape her sister-in-law for a brief while, but like ants at a picnic, she’d arrived to plague Laurel’s existence again.

Rhonda sauntered over. “My dear sister, I was unaware you intended to leave until after your departure,” she criticized in a languid tone. “I couldn’t imagine what had happened.” She blinked and placed her hand on her chest. “I was all aflutter not knowing where you were, so I immediately set out to ask my cousin for advice. What if the magistrate had called with more questions—he is a special friend of yours I know—but I would have had no idea what to tell him.” Rhonda blinked again and trained her accusatory stare on Laurel.

Laurel’s stomach roiled and her face heated with a blush, but she returned the stare in good measure. She could well imagine her sister-in-law’s joy if she’d been found guilty of murdering Robert with an overdose of laudanum. “Your concern is so sweet. I beg pardon for putting you to so much unnecessary trouble, but there are no lingering questions. All issues have been settled months ago.”

With that, the conversation became general and to Laurel, everlasting. Finally, the butler announced dinner and she exhaled with relief, smiling gratefully at George when he offered his arm. She found herself seated by his side at a long table. The sparkle of crystal stemware and cut glass vases of fragrant white roses reflected in the polished surface of the tabletop. In an otherwise hostile environment, the soft glow of candlelight washed the walls, offering a pleasant setting that soothed Laurel’s frayed nerves.

The aroma of rich soups spiced the air as servants placed tureens at each corner of the table followed by removes of roasted vegetables and lobster patties. The fare was tasteless in Laurel’s mouth, but she forced down a few bites. Almost ill with exhaustion, her stomach revolted when the main course of mutton with dumplings arrived and a remove of eel was placed by her elbow. The only thing that saved her from disgrace was the stern look in Lord Gladrey’s eyes and a quick sip of tea

Laurel swallowed hard and her fingers trembled on her fork. Where was her backbone? Simply because his every stare caused her discomfort was no reason to crumble. Straightening her spine, she elevated her chin. She must never give him a reason to suspect his tactics were successful or he would never let up. If she melted into the background little by little, perhaps one day he would allow her to take her son and disappear from his life. She would find a way.

When that dreadful meal ended, Heloise signaled the withdrawal of the ladies. Laurel reluctantly followed the others into the parlor and attempted to disappear into the surroundings. She sank into a chair a little removed from the other furnishings.

Heloise looked at Paige. “It’s time for you to join Miss Fleming. You want to be fresh for your riding lesson tomorrow.”

“Must I? Riding lessons with Adron are so deadly dull, no letting the horses run or anything fun. In a singsong voice, she mocked, “Miss Fleming abhors riding above a trot and she positively will not jump over the least puddle. Still he always insists she comes along as a treat for her.”

Heloise’s voice was filled with pride. “Conduct of a true gentleman, always courteous and kind. A lesson to us all.”

“Yes, but she’s too shy to say boo to a goose and Adron always tries to draw her out or sooth her shattered nerves or some such thing.” Paige grinned. “Do you suppose he isn’t really trying to act the gentleman, but has feelings for her?”

Heloise’s lips thinned and she lifted her chin. “Don’t be impertinent. His sole interest is in my beautiful god-daughter here.” She darted a quick glance in Laurel’s direction and reached over to pat Melissa’s folded hands.

Laurel found the image of Lord Gladrey acting the gentleman decidedly fanciful and the warning was unnecessary. Lord Gladrey had made his contempt for her more than plain and the memory of his earlier invitation to share his bed made her cringe. Not that he was unattractive; he would measure up to anyone’s standards in that regard, but she’d had enough ill humor, accusations and disdain to last a lifetime. Lord Gladrey’s actions to control her every move were a match for Robert’s suspicions. She’d hardly dared draw a breath of her own and she wanted no more of it.

Biting back a sigh, she longed for her bed and the comfort of being alone, but she couldn’t leave before Lord Gladrey joined the ladies.

Before many minutes had passed, Lord Gladrey’s secretary entered the room and her nerves tightened, certain the earl would be close behind. Simply thinking about having to deal with him and his antagonism left her drained.

Edmond strolled over to Heloise’s chair, his slender form erect and his too handsome face closed against the ladies.

“What’s amiss?” Heloise demanded.

“Lord Gladrey asked me to inform you and the ladies that he will be unable to join you tonight.”

Heloise glanced at the other ladies and grimaced, displeasure marring her brow. “I am disappointed. As you heard, Adron’s secretary has found something for him to do.”

Laurel could only be grateful. She watched as Edmond bowed and left with a tight little smile on his lips. Under her breath Laurel gave a sigh of relief and stood. “Please excuse me. I must see to Jamie before I retire.”

She quickly retreated, peeking into Jamie’s room where moonlight drifted through the window and washed over the crib. All appeared well and tension eased in Laurel’s shoulders. Her son was deeply asleep while the housekeeper’s daughter snoozed in the adjoining chamber.

Climbing the stairs to the next level, she entered her chamber and leaned back against the door. Striking a flint, she set the lamp alight and happened to glance at the dresser. She frowned, stepping over to finger the few items scattered on top. Disquiet shivered through her and her frown deepened. Her borrowed things had been slightly shifted. She studied the room at length, concluding that someone had indeed been through her sparse belongings.

Unease crept down her spine, but Jamie’s startled wail pushed her first alarm aside and she rushed down the steps to his room. Rhonda stood over Jamie’s crib with one hand between the folds of the netting.

“What are you doing?” Laurel hissed a little above a whisper.

“Seeing to my nephew since you were not by.” Rhonda had taken no pains to lower her voice.

“I’ll thank you to leave him alone.”

“Then don’t thank me,” Rhonda snarled. “The little heir. How droll you no longer matter in his life.” She twisted her mouth into a semblance of a smile and contempt radiated from her eyes.

“Get out,” Laurel demanded. Pointing to the door, she seethed with helpless fury. “Now!”

Rhonda strolled to the door and turned to deliver a sly smile. “Careful. Your true nature is showing. Not so sweet now, are you?” She laughed as she exited the room.

Alarm accelerated Laurel’s pulse. Where was the servant in charge of the nursery at night? Laurel peeked into the adjoining room and gave an exasperated sigh. If a pistol exploded next to her ear, the girl might wake up.

Laurel stood with her teeth clenched, her fingernails digging grooves in her palms. She retraced her steps to the side of the crib and stroked her son’s back for a second. Then she tucked the netting around his bed once more. With a quick glance at the door, she sank into the rocking chair to guard her child’s slumber.