Good Earl Gone Bad (21 page)

But the dowager was not impressed. “I thank you, my dear, but I feel sure I will be able to find something suited to our needs. We are hardly in the same situation as you and your father were when you chose to find a new home, after all.”

It was a good thing the dowager was going to be moving soon, Hermione thought, careful not to let her annoyance show in her expression. Else she might find herself in the position of being suspected in the murder of two people in the space of a few weeks. Only one of which she would be guilty of.

“Of course,” she said with what she hoped was a bland smile. “And really, I cannot thank you enough for being so considerate. I feel sure that it will work out for the best once you and my sisters-in-law are settled into a home of your own. Why, you might even find you like it better.”

But that was apparently the wrong thing to say. “I have been mistress of this house for some thirty-odd years, Countess,” the dowager said with a chilly dignity. “It will not be easy for me to leave it. But far be it from me to refuse to step aside when my son asks me to. Indeed, I am a little surprised that he chose to do such a thing for a lady with whom he has only a passing acquaintance, but then we know how gentlemen are, do we not?” The knowing gleam in the dowager's eye implied that her son's reasons for marrying an earl's daughter with an unimpressive dowry and a reputation that was less than pristine were self-evident.

Better to be hanged for a sheep as for a lamb, Hermione thought with a hint of annoyance. “Lord Mainwaring and I have been friends for some time, Countess. I wonder that he didn't mention it to you. But I suppose that is just like him not to share every little detail of his life with his mother. After all, it would hardly do him credit to be a grown man still tied to his mama's apron strings. So to speak, of course—countesses do not wear aprons in my experience.”

“As it is with most men,” the dowager said, “my son does not tell me every small detail of his acquaintance. We are closer than some, of course, but he did not think it important to mention you, apparently. Perhaps you did not make as much of an impression as you'd hoped.”

“But that matters not a bit now,” Hermione said with a shrug. “We are married, after all.”

“That you are.” The dowager's glare could have cut glass.

“I was sorry Freddy and Leonora had to leave,” said the Duke of Trent from Hermione's other side. “Leonora was unwell, I take it?”

“Indeed, your grace,” Hermione said with relief at the change of subject. “Though I suspect it was more a matter of Lord Frederick being overprotective than actual illness.”

“You are speaking of Lord Frederick Lisle and his wife?” the dowager asked with a frown. “I had heard that he'd married but it was some sort of scandalous circumstance, wasn't it?”

“Not the marriage itself, my lady,” Hermione said, biting back her instinct to tell the other lady to pull in her claws. “I believe Lord Frederick and Miss Craven, now Mrs. Lisle, were betrothed once before. They simply reconnected and decided to marry a few years later, from what I understand.”

“Now I remember,” the dowager said with a gleam in her eye. “Her brother was killed for being part of that driving club. The Lords of Anarchy, I believe. What a shame. I was quite fond of Mr. Jonathan Craven when he and my son were at school together. I had such high hopes for him. And to see him brought down in the prime of life by that monstrous club is truly a tragedy.”

Since Hermione had herself been closely acquainted with Jonathan, she could do nothing but agree with her mother-in-law.

“I believe all such clubs should be abolished,” the dowager said firmly. “Not only for the safety of their members but also for the safety of the general public. They are a nuisance and should not be allowed to roam free.”

“I do not believe, my lady,” Trent said with a wink at Hermione, “that abolishing driving clubs altogether should be the punishment for one rogue group. And from what I understand the Lords of Anarchy have even reformed their ways. Going so far as to welcome ladies into their ranks.”

“Ladies?” the countess asked with a shudder. “What sort of low creature would accept such an invitation? I know in my day there were some scandalous goings-on, but we certainly knew what behavior was good for ladies and what was good for gentlemen.”

Hermione was about to open her mouth and admit that she was one of those low creatures, when her husband stood.

*   *   *

“I want to thank you all for coming today,” Jasper said with a smile. “But the time has come for my bride and me to retreat. You are more than welcome to remain here and partake of my hospitality in our absence, however.”

With that, he walked down to offer his arm to Hermione and they left the room together. “I hope you weren't frightened off by Mama,” he said as they walked downstairs. “It was perhaps not the best idea to leave you to her tender mercies on your first day of marriage. She is not best pleased at being supplanted as countess I don't think.”

“You are quite correct, there,” Hermione said with a laugh. “I thought she would challenge me to a duel. Either that or poison my wine.”

“She would never do anything so uncouth,” Jasper said, leading her into the kitchens and out the door into the garden beyond.

“Where are we going?” she asked as they navigated the winding path through the surprisingly lush shrubbery and flowering plants.

“It's a surprise,” Jasper said with a secret smile.

“I don't like surprises,” Hermione said, though she couldn't help smiling back. “One never knows if it will be a good surprise or a bad surprise.”

“This is a good one,” he said, squeezing her hand. “I promise.”

When they reached the back gate, and stepped out into the lane that ran behind the house, her heart began to beat faster. Because, as they crossed to the mews beyond, she saw that he didn't lie.

“I had to do a bit of negotiating to make this happen,” he said as they stepped into the well-kept stables, which smelled of fresh hay, straw, and horse. “But I think it was worth it. At least I hope it will be.”

She couldn't speak as he led her to stand before a pair of stalls. Almost afraid to peer inside, Hermione was unable to stop herself, however, and when she saw that they held her grays she was overcome with a wave of emotion so strong she thought she might collapse under the weight of it.

But the horses, their eyes bright and their ears turning this way and that to catch every murmur of sound, nickered and pressed inquisitive snouts over the stable door and demanded her attention. And she was helpless in the face of such recognition.

“Hello, my dears,” she said through tears as she scratched first one, then the other between the ears and stroked down the muscular sides of their long necks. “I do not have an apple or any sugar lumps, my darlings, but…”

And Jasper was there, handing her first one half apple, then another, and she watched in awe as they chomped down the treat.

“They are yours again,” Jasper said in a low voice. “I was able to buy them off Saintcrow's heir. A distant cousin with no use for curricle racing. He was happy enough to sell them and make room in his stables for his carriage horses.”

“I will repay you, my lord,” she said, unable to turn away from the wonder of seeing her horses again. “I promise.”

“You will do no such thing,” he said. “They are your bridal gift. And I will not hear anything more about payment. The very idea.”

She turned then, to see if he was angry, but instead she saw that he was looking at her with a softness she'd never seen in him before. It did things to her insides. Made her think that perhaps he wasn't as indifferent as she'd thought he was.

“I don't know how to thank you,” she said, and impulsively she threw her arms around his neck and hugged him close. She could smell the sandalwood and man scent of him, and felt the strength of his arms as they closed round her. “It's the nicest, best gift I've ever received.”

“I didn't do it so you'd be grateful,” he said into her hair. “I did it because I knew how much it hurt you to have them taken away. And I wanted to make it right, somehow.”

How on earth would she be able to protect her heart from this man when he said such things? she thought. And she had to, because no matter how he might seem so very different from her father, the truth of it was that he was a gamester, too.

They stood there together for a moment. Just the two of them in the dark of the stables with only the horses looking on.

After the afternoon spent under the watchful eye of Lady Mainwaring and the rest of the wedding guests, it was a relief for Hermione to be there in some degree of privacy. She'd never been one to enjoy a crowd, but today had been less about numbers than being the center of attention. When she was driving, she had something to take her mind off the fact that she was the focus of the crowd. And at parties and balls she was only one of any number of other young ladies.

Today, however, she, along with Jasper had been the sole focus of the wedding guests. And though she was grateful to have him at her side, she still felt the scrutiny of them on her.

“Would you like to have some time to rest?” Jasper asked finally, pulling back from her. “It's been a whirlwind of a day.”

And almost as if she'd been denying it for hours, Hermione felt herself aching with fatigue. “That sounds like heaven. I should like to settle into my rooms a bit.”

“You could have a bath, as well,” he said, and the very fact that a gentleman was mentioning such a thing sent a flush of heat through her. “My father renovated the house not too long before he died. And the countess's bathing room is a sight to behold.”

At the mention of the countess's rooms, Hermione flinched. “Was your mother very unhappy to be forced to give up her rooms?”

As they retraced their steps through the back garden and into the kitchen Jasper kept her arm about her waist.

“I won't lie and tell you she was ecstatic about it,” he admitted. “But she knows her duty. And it's time for her to move on to the next part of her life. She'd become a bit too…” He seemed to search for the right word. “She's grown complacent. Not doing anything that would help her grow or change. And I must admit that I am somewhat relieved that she and my sisters have chosen to search for another house. It's not that I do not love them. I do. But they are … difficult at times.”

Hermione could well imagine. Especially for the lone male in an all-female household.

“I won't lie and say I am not relieved to hear you say it,” she said with a twist of her lips. “She was a little argumentative at the wedding breakfast. I had hoped that we would get along well since I have had no mother of my own for many years now. But I'm afraid that won't be the case with us.”

She saw him frown at the mention of his mother's behavior at the breakfast. “I am sorry to hear it,” he said. “I can only tell you that she will get better with some time. I'm afraid my announcement took her by surprise. I think she had come to think that she could carry on as mistress of the Mainwaring holdings for a good many more years.”

“And she resents me for that?” Hermione asked, curious. She had no wish to carry on a feud with his mother, but it would do her more good to be aware of which way the wind blew than to keep her head in the sand.

“Perhaps a little,” Jasper said as they made their way up the stairs to the floor where the family bedrooms lay. “But she'll get used to it.”

When they reached a doorway near the end of the hall, he stopped and opened it.

Preceding him in, Hermione was stunned into speechlessness for a moment.

“I had the drapers in to change the curtains and the bedclothes and hangings yesterday,” Jasper said in a rush. Almost as if he were nervous. “It was a near thing to get the changes finished in time for your arrival today but it's amazing what can be done when there's a financial incentive. And I fear the fellow might have robbed Peter to pay Paul and gave us some things he'd been working on for another customer.”

“Who obviously had exquisite taste,” Hermione said, reaching out to touch the rich blue and cream floral fabric of the hangings. “It's the most beautiful room I've ever seen.”

“There was no time to paint,” Jasper admitted, “so I had to go with a similar color scheme. I'm not particularly skilled at decorating but my sister Celeste helped a bit.”

“I love it,” she said, turning to offer him a genuine smile before she ran her hand along the surface of the dressing table on the far wall. “I'm amazed you were able to have so much replaced in such a short period of time. I don't think I could manage half so much in half the time.”

“So you're pleased?” he asked, as if he weren't quite sure whether to trust her words up until this point.

“Absolutely,” Hermione said, opening the door to what she supposed was the dressing room.

“This room shares a bathing chamber between our two dressing rooms,” he said a bit diffidently. “I will do my best to ensure that you are not occupying the bath before I come barging in.”

But she was too curious to see what this remodeled bath would look like to respond. Making her way through the dressing room, where her maid was there arranging Hermione's things in a large armoire, she opened yet another door to see a spaciously appointed room with a large plunge bath holding center stage.

Behind her, Jasper said, “It can be filled from the spigot there, without having to wait for water to be heated in the kitchens and carried up.”

“Ingenious,” she said with a shake of her head. “I must admit I am having a bit of trouble not pinching myself. Not only have you returned my grays, but you've also given me the most gorgeous bedchamber imaginable and now you tell me about this magical bathing apparatus. There can be no other course of action for me but to simply expire from shock and delight.”