Good Earl Gone Bad (20 page)

“Shall we repair to Mainwaring House for a celebratory repast?” he asked the others, tucking Hermione's arm in his.

After murmured assent, they all left the church and Jasper handed Hermione into his carriage for the short ride from Hanover Square to Grosvenor.

Almost as soon as the door shut behind them, he pulled her into his arms for a proper kiss. One that left them both breathless and Hermione's hand clutching his now horrifically rumpled cravat.

“There,” he said with a grin. “I wanted to do that the moment you walked into the church, but I decided that might be a bit too much for the bishop.”

Her cheeks pink, Hermione laughed, a low giggle that did nothing to cool his ardor. “I suspect that the bishop might have had some objections to a kiss like that in a house of worship.”

“It would be worship,” he said with a raised brow. “Just not worship of the Lord.”

“I believe that breaks a commandment, does it not?” she asked saucily. “It is a good thing you chose to restrain yourself. I'd hate to begin our marriage with you excommunicated.”

“We almost didn't begin it at all,” he said playfully. “I do not mind telling you I had a moment of fear when I suspected you weren't coming.”

“Do not be absurd. I wouldn't leave you at the altar,” she said with a shake of her finger. Then, her eyes grew serious. “I was late because of a visitor. As I told you.”

Seeing that the giddy mood had passed, he settled back against the carriage squabs, though he kept her hand in his. “Who was it? Not Rosewood again, I hope?”

“No,” she said with a frown. “It was Miss Fleetwood, of all people.”

That name put Jasper on alert, though he schooled himself not to show it. “As long as it was she and not her brother,” he said with more sharpness than he intended. Calmer, he went on, “I still have reasons for wishing you to avoid Mr. Fleetwood.”

“Even if it had been him,” Hermione said with a show of her teeth, “I could not have turned him away. But in this case there was no need because it was Miss Fleetwood. And though Ophelia and Leonora and I were on our way out of the house, we decided to speak to her privately for a few moments at least.”

“And?” he asked.

Quickly she revealed the conversation that had transpired between the four ladies.

“I am now not only pleased that you spoke to her,” he said with a shake of his head, “but I wonder that you were able to tear yourself away in order for us to be married!”

At his jest, she rapped him on the knuckles with her fan. “I should have done so considering how lightly you speak of it,” she said with a scowl. “But in all seriousness, did you know she was betrothed to Lord Saintcrow? What are the odds of such a coincidence?”

“I could calculate it, but there are too many variables for it to have a great deal of meaning,” he said seriously.

At her raised brow, he shrugged. “Sorry, I am nothing if not a mathematician.”

“It's the first I've heard of it,” she said with a frown.

“It's hardly a secret,” he said with a shrug. “It's how I win so often at cards. I'm able to calculate the odds of getting a particular card in my hand after seeing which ones have already been played. It isn't particularly difficult if you know what you're doing.”

“If it weren't difficult,” she shot back, “then everyone would do it.”

He said nothing.

“I had no idea,” she said with a shake of her head. “Me, married to a mathematician. It boggles the mind.”

“Because you have a particular antipathy for maths?”

“Because I have a particular antipathy for maths,” she confirmed.

“Then let us get back to the subject at hand,” he said, drawing her against him, liking the feel of her warm body tucked up against him. “What did Miss Fleetwood have to say about Saintcrow? Or Fleetwood for that matter?”

It occurred to him that he'd perhaps been hasty in ordering Hermione not to have any dealings with the Fleetwoods while they were her neighbors. It had been a missed opportunity, he realized now.

Hermione told him about Saintcrow and the Lords of Anarchy.

“Do you think it's true that they encouraged him to take risks?” she asked, her body stiff, clearly not wanting to hear him confirm the report.

“It's possible,” he said, not wanting to lie to her. “But I should have thought that after that business earlier this year, Lord Payne would wish the club to turn over a new leaf. Isn't that what you said was his intention in accepting ladies into their ranks?”

“Yes,” she said, snuggling up against him. “And as far as I know they have been behaving themselves. Of course I've not had the chance to interact with most of them.”

“Do you think Miss Fleetwood had any suspicions about her brother being involved with Saintcrow's murder?” he asked, wishing he'd been there to question the lady himself. Of course, it was likely she was far more forthcoming with Hermione than she'd ever be with him.

“I don't know. I had the feeling she was going to tell me something more,” Hermione said. “But I recalled that we were late and fobbed her off with an invitation to come for tea once I was settled at Mainwaring House.”

For a moment, he was struck dumb at the pleasure he felt at hearing her speak of her settling into Mainwaring House. But then the substance of what she'd actually said sank in. “My darling wife,” he said with a bark of laughter. “You are utterly brilliant!”

“I am?” she asked puzzled at his sudden giddiness.

“One of the reasons I was so damned worried about you getting friendly with the Fleetwoods was that I did not wish for you to get caught in that house alone. Or rather, alone with him. He's a dangerous fellow and I worried for your safety. And I didn't feel much better about your safety in your own house.”

“And inviting Miss Fleetwood to Mainwaring House removes that threat?” she asked, leaning back to look into his eyes.

“It does,” he said with a grin. “And this way, I can speak to Miss Fleetwood as well. There was no way I could get into the Fleetwoods' house without raising his suspicions.”

“I must admit to being baffled at having pleased you so much without even realizing what I was doing.” She shook her head. “If this is a sign of how marriage to you will be on a daily basis, I suppose I will like it well enough.”

“Well enough?” he asked with mock affront. “Damned with faint praise!”

“I can hardly be overjoyed at being unable to replicate my triumphs thanks to never knowing what it is about them that made it possible for me to enact them in the first place,” she said, her brows drawn together.

“I shall be sure to give you some instruction on the matter just as soon as I am able,” he said, kissing her on the nose. Then the mouth.

And they spent a very enjoyable few moments kissing before the carriage drew to a stop and Jasper reluctantly let her go.

“I suppose our guests await,” she said with a sigh.

“They do, Countess,” he said with a grin. “But, the good thing about that is that as the lady of the house, you can ply them with food and drink and then leave whenever you like.”

“Won't that be a little scandalous?” she asked, shocked.

“Maybe a little,” he said with a grin. “But you're only a newlywed once in your life. Why not take advantage of it when you can?”

And with that, he handed her down from the carriage and into their married life.

 

Fifteen

When the carriage arrived in Grosvenor Square, Hermione was surprised to see that the servants of the Mainwaring town house had been assembled in a line from the front door and down the wide black-and-white tiled marble hallway.

“Welcome to Mainwaring House, my lady,” said the butler, Greaves, a short dapper man with more gravitas than many noblemen she'd met. “I hope that you will be happy here.”

It was a good thing Jasper was there by her side, else Hermione would have been in real danger of turning and fleeing in the other direction. It wasn't that she was frightened. But more that she was unaccustomed to such ceremony. And certainly not in celebration of her.

Up until that moment, the swiftness of their betrothal and marriage had felt strange, even unreal—as if it were happening to some other Hermione who would be the one to deal with the details of the whole affair. But as she stood there in the ornate entrance of Mainwaring House, the weight of it landed squarely on her shoulders. With such force that Jasper turned to look at her, his expression worried.

“Are you well?” he asked in an undertone that only she could hear.

Was she well? Hermione hardly knew. But as she had often when in the face of situations that threatened to overwhelm her, she squared her shoulders and gave her best impression of what an Amazon warrior must look like on going into battle.

“Of course,” she said, not letting one fraction of her fear show in her word or countenance. Turning to Mr. Greaves, she said warmly, “I thank you, all of you for your warm welcome. I only hope that I will endeavor to make the house a happy one.”

And, though Jasper said it was unnecessary, she went down the line shaking every servant's hand and committing their names to memory. Or, as near as was possible. It was exhausting, but once she'd reached the boot boy, she felt reasonably able to recall their faces if not all their names.

“That was remarkable,” Jasper said as they made their way to the great dining room where the wedding breakfast was to be held. “I think you charmed them all. Even the cook, who is always cross when he's expected to leave the kitchen for any reason.”

Happy to have pleased him, Hermione beamed. “My mama always said you should be as kind as possible to the servants because their lives were difficult enough without having our petty slights heaped on top of it.”

“An insightful lady,” Jasper said, patting her hand where it rested on his arm. “How old were you when you lost her?”

“I was eight,” Hermione said, thinking how pleased but worried about her her mother would be on this, her wedding day. It certainly wasn't how Hermione had envisioned her marriage coming about. Aloud she said, “I missed her today. But I also am grateful she wasn't alive to see my father behave in such a shocking manner. Of course, had she been alive, he likely wouldn't have done something as scandalous as wager my hand in marriage. I know it's difficult to imagine, but when she was alive he was a different person. More content with what he had. Less reckless.”

“I think we both understand well how the death of one parent affects the other,” Jasper said softly. He stopped just outside the door to what she presumed was the dining room. He looked down at her, his blue eyes serious. “I am sorry it came about this way, Hermione. But I'm not sorry for the fact of it. It wasn't the way I'd have arranged things, certainly, but I couldn't have asked for a braver, lovelier wife.”

She was shocked. How could she not be, when it felt as if this whole affair had been outside their control from the start? Not to mention the way they'd started off things between them. It wasn't difficult to remember just how appalled he'd been on first learning that she aspired to belong to a driving club.

As if he could read her mind, he grinned. “I realize we have not always been the best of friends. Indeed, far from it at times. But I have always admired your tenacity and determination. And I should rather have a wife with a backbone than all of the prim and proper misses of the
ton
put together.”

“I think there is a law against a marriage such as that, my lord,” she said with an amused quirk of her lips. “But I hope that I will endeavor to make you a proper wife.”

“It is not for you to endeavor in this, Countess,” he said with a fierce expression that she didn't quite understand. “It is I who should endeavor to please you.”

“But I should like to try anyway,” she said seriously. “For if this marriage is to work, we both have a role to play. I think we have both seen what happens when one partner is absent, for any reason.”

He looked as if he would argue, but after a moment of thought, he nodded. “All right. We will try it your way.”

With a nod to the footman who stood at the door to the dining room, they entered while the servant announced them. “The Earl and Countess of Mainwaring.”

It was odd for Hermione. But, she decided as they made their way to the table, not unpleasant.

*   *   *

“Do you find your new home pleasing, Countess?” asked the dowager after the toasts had been drunk and the table had broken up into small side conversations. Hermione had been seated opposite Jasper and had her mother-in-law on her left and the Duke of Trent on her right. Trent was presently engaged in conversation with the younger of Jasper's sisters, Celeste.

“Indeed I do, Lady Mainwaring,” Hermione said with diffidence. She was having a difficult time reading the other woman. One minute she seemed welcoming and pleasant, and the next dismissive and threatened. “I hope that you will help me as I become accustomed to the way the household works.”

“Certainly, my dear,” the older woman said with just a trace of condescension. “As long as I am here to do so. There is some question right now as to whether my daughters and I will stay on here at Mainwaring House or remove to another house so that we might leave the newlyweds to their privacy.”

Since “privacy” was said in such a tone as to imply “orgy,” Hermione was quite sure that the decision to leave had not been her mama-in-law's idea.

“I am sorry to hear it,” she responded with what she hoped was deference without implying that Jasper was in any way at fault for making the suggestion. “I hope you will let me help you in your search for an appropriate house. I did the same thing when my father made the decision to let the Upperton town house.”