Lady Beresford's Lover (29 page)

Vivian nodded, but Rupert was pleased to see that she did not seem nearly as upset as she had earlier.

“Isn’t he the fellow who has the prize hunting hounds?” Nick asked.

“The very one,” Rupert replied, ready to strangle Vivian’s father. “But you’d better be prepared to give up your firstborn daughter for the privilege of owning one.”

“Well, of all the corked-brained ideas,” Silvia added. “I cannot believe, in this modern time, he’d do such a thing.”

“I can.” Clara tugged the bell-pull. A moment later, Barnes entered. “Please ask Lady Beresford’s maid to pack everything but what she’ll need to-morrow. Notify the coachman that I want them removed to Stanstead house this evening.” She shifted her gaze to Vivian and Rupert. “Your father may have a louder bark than he does a bite, but Tewkesbury is another matter. He can be a nasty customer.”

Vivian paled, but she straightened her shoulders. “I will not be afraid of him.”

Lady Telford’s lips formed a straight line. “Stanstead, I suggest you take yourself off to White’s after dinner this evening before you attend the ball. If Tewkesbury is in Town, he’ll be there. You’ll want to know what he is saying.”

Rupert would take his father and cousin as well. “Yes, ma’am.”

She shooed them out the door. “Have a good time and give your grandmother my regards.”

Once they were in the carriage, Rupert took Vivian’s hand in his. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s not your fault.”

“Trust me to protect you.”

She tilted her head and kissed him. “I shall.”

Whatever happened to-night, by to-morrow at this time he’d be a married man, and no one would stop him.

After they arrived at his parents’ house, Rupert took his father and Robert aside, and explained what Lady Telford had advised him to do.

By the time he’d finished, Mama, Serena, and Silvia had joined them.

“I’ve sent a message to the kitchen that we’d like to dine as soon as possible.” His mother squeezed his father’s arm. “You will go with Rupert?”

“I, and Robert as well. We’ll return in plenty of time to escort you to Lady Jersey’s ball.”

“Do any of you actually know Lord Tewkesbury?” Despite what Clara had recommended, it seemed to be a great waste of time to be waiting for the man when none of them could recognize him.

“I do,” Edward Malfrey replied. “Enough to point him out.”

Rupert took Vivian aside. “We won’t be long. I simply wish to see if the man has mentioned the betrothal.”

R
upert, his father, and Robert Beaumont sat in the main room at White’s, waiting for the large dining room to thin of company. Robert had gone to look at the wagering book when Nick and Hawksworth entered.

“We thought we’d join you.”

“Even if the man’s here, I don’t expect fisticuffs.” Rupert was beginning to think all this was for naught. “I’m surprised your bride let you out of the house.”

“She practically pushed me through the door. Lady Telford’s information about Tewkesbury may not have worried Vivian, but Silvia is determined to protect her.”

Robert reclaimed his seat. “Rupert, you’re in the book. The wager was running in your favor to marry Lady Beresford. This evening it changed to Tewkesbury.”

“Now we know he is making the match known.” Nick glanced around. “Is he here?”

“I’d say there is a good chance of it.” Papa stopped a waiter, and whispered something. “There are too many guests in the dining room to see if he’s present.”

Nick and Hawksworth pulled chairs up, and a few moments later, a bottle of claret was set in their midst.

Rupert checked his pocket watch. This was becoming ridiculous. “I am not going to hunt him down. I have nothing to say to the man. The only reason I came was to ascertain if there was any talk. Which there appears to be. If we don’t leave soon, we’ll be late escorting the ladies.”

Two gentlemen Rupert knew only by name sauntered, brandies in hand, to the book. “Too bad for Stanstead, looks like Tewkesbury is going to have the lady.”

Rupert’s hands clenched. He was not going to react. He reached for his glass.

“Stanstead, didn’t see you there.” The words were slurred, as if the man had already imbibed a great deal. “Sorry about your luck.”

He raised his glass. “Things will turn out as they should.”

“Always maintain your countenance. Good man. Young yet. Plenty of time to get a leg-shackle.”

The drunk and his friend wandered off. Several minutes later, a stocky man, not much above medium height, who reminded Rupert of his local squire, strolled in. “Stanstead?”

“I’m afraid you have the advantage, sir.”

“Should’ve known it was nothing but a hum.”

“I beg your pardon?” He set his drink back down.

“Damn me if you don’t look like old Lord Beaumont when you look like that. Don’t see much of Stanstead in you though.”

Next to Rupert his father stiffened.

“I’m said to favor my mother.”

“That happens. Some of mine look like their mothers as well.” The man tucked his thumbs into the top of his breeches, leaning back like a strutting rooster.

“And you are?” This could only be Lord Tewkesbury. Still, the question had to be asked.

“Viscount Tewkesbury. Thought you might remember me. Then again, you were just a pup at the time.”

Rupert reclaimed his glass and took a healthy draw. “You must excuse me, I do not remember. Have you just returned to Town?”

“No returned about it, my lad. Don’t like the place. I’m only here to collect a new bitch.”

The room had become quiet, and Tewkesbury’s voice seemed to echo through it.

“Indeed.” Rupert held up his goblet as if admiring the color of the wine. “I seem to remember you are famous for your dogs. I wasn’t aware anyone was keeping them in Town.”

“Not a hunting dog. Got all of them I need right now. I’m talking about Lord Brackford’s daughter, Lady Beresford.”

Something in Rupert shifted and he was closer to calling a man out than he’d ever been before. That, though, would not help Vivian.

“Here, here, man. Shouldn’t be referring to a lady as a female dog,” a gentleman said.

“No insult meant.” Tewkesbury swayed back, and Rupert wondered if the man was in his altitudes. “All females serve the same purpose, breeding and companionship.”

Rupert started forward, but Hawksworth placed a hand on Rupert’s shoulder. “You are insulting, sir.” Hawksworth’s tone was deadly calm. “I do not yet have a wife, but I assure you I would not stand by and listen to anyone call her a bitch. I think you might wish to leave before someone takes offense.”

At that point, the porter, followed by two footmen, approached Tewkesbury. “My lord, unless you apologize, I must ask you to depart the club. One of our board members has complained.”

For a moment, Rupert thought the cur would resist, but after some coaxing from one of the other gentlemen, Tewkesbury left.

“Thank you.”

Hawksworth shrugged. “Someday you might do the same for me. If you need help in a fight though, Beresford’s your man.” He tossed off his brandy. “I’ll see you at the ball.”

“You shall.”

V
ivian glanced at the clock and began to pace. “What could be keeping them?”

“Any number of things.” Freddy patted the seat next to her. “Wearing yourself out with worry won’t help.”

“Very true.” Serena pressed a glass of sherry into Vivian’s trembling hands. “Sherry will help calm you. Robert and Edward are with him.”

A few moments later the sounds of male voices floated in from the hall.

She drank half of the glass in one long draw. “They are back.”

“See.” Freddy smiled, and Vivian knew how lucky she was to be gaining such a wonderful mother-in-law. “Finish your wine and we’ll go. The last thing we want is for them to settle in.”

Rupert strolled into the drawing room, and his gaze went directly to her. Vivian still could not believe her luck; in the morning she would be his wife.

He didn’t bother with the regular greetings, but simply placed her hand on his arm. “It is time to show the world we are betrothed.”

“I agree.”

Edward glanced at her. “How long do you wish to remain?”

“Clara suggested we remain about an hour.”

“Perfect.” Freddy took her husband’s arm. “We have a busy day to-morrow.”

“And an early one,” Serena agreed.

 

Shortly after they arrived at Lady Jersey’s ball, Rupert bent his head, his breath caressing her ear. “Dance with me in the garden.”

That sounded wonderful, and romantic, and scandalous. “Won’t we shock the other guests?”

“We’re betrothed. We’ll set a new fashion.”

Vivian wasn’t prepared to go that far yet. Perhaps when they were husband and wife she would have the courage. “I’ll meet you out there.”

“As you wish, but the next time we dance in the garden, we’ll go out together.” He glanced at a corridor leading off the ballroom. “Go that way, you’ll find the second room has access to the terrace.” He raised her hand and kissed it. “Don’t be long.”

Vivian gazed after him as he strolled away. A few moments later, she excused herself, found the corridor and the room. Just as Rupert had said, a French window led to the terrace. He was already there when she arrived. The strains of a violin began as he escorted her down the stairs and put his palm on her waist.

Nightingales sang and the scent of night-blooming jasmine filled the air. “I think I am falling even more in love with you.”

“I know I’m more in love with you.” His lips grazed her forehead. “Morning can’t come soon enough.”

“Nor for me.”

 

“It is so wonderful to have Hector home!” Emily gushed.

Cressida had been happy to see her brother as well, but Emily had been gushing so much, Cressida was practically sick with it. “He said he was bringing me a present, but I haven’t seen it yet.”

Emily gave a sly smile. “He will be here shortly, and you shall see it. I promise you’ll be vastly pleased.”

The only thing that
vastly
pleased her was that Lord Stanstead was finally here, and this might be her only chance to make him marry her. “I’m sure I will. Hector always knows what I like.”

Emily glanced around. “What can be keeping them?”

“Papa is most likely talking about politics to him.”

Lord Stanstead had been talking with that Lady Beresford again, but now he was making his way toward the French doors that made up one wall of the massive ballroom. Cressida prayed with all her might that he would go into the garden. “I must go to the ladies’ retiring room.”

Emily bit her bottom lip, glancing around again. “I should accompany you.”

“I’ll not be long.” Cressida tried for a carefree manner. “You wait for Hector. In any event, Mama is with that group of ladies not far from the corridor.”

“Very well, but do not be long.”

“I won’t.” And perhaps Cressida would have her own surprise when she returned.

Keeping her eye on Lord Stanstead, she skirted groups of ladies and gentlemen until she reached the end of the ballroom. Although he appeared to be in no hurry, stopping and exchanging greetings with his friends, he definitely seemed to be focused on the terrace. She must get there before anyone else met him, or her entire life would be ruined.

Lord Stanstead finally reached the French doors and ambled through them. Now was her chance. Keeping her pace slower than she wanted to, Cressida strolled onto the terrace, but he wasn’t there. A sound drew her gaze to the garden, and she quickened her steps. Just as she was about to descend the stairs, an arm came around her waist, pulling her back.

It had better not be Hector.
“Let me go. What do you think you’re doing?”

“Stopping you from making the biggest mistake of your life,” a man whose voice she didn’t recognize said.

Whirling around, she was surprised to be facing nothing but a waistcoat and the ends of a neckcloth. She raised her gaze from the gold thread in his waistcoat to the snowy cravat, to a deeply tanned and incredibly stern face. “Who are you, and what right do you have to interfere with me?”

Without a by-your-leave, he turned her around and pointed. In the garden, Lord Stanstead and Lady Beresford were waltzing. “They are betrothed.”

Cressida could have cried with frustration. “You’ve ruined everything!”

An amused smirk appeared on his face. “I doubt that.”

“There you are.” Hector’s voice caught her attention. What was going on? He glanced at the man holding her. “Oh, I see you found her.”

“Indeed I did.” The gentleman’s tone held no humor at all. “Doing exactly what Miss Woolerton thought she was up to. I am not at all sure this was a good idea after all.”

“An infatuation, nothing more. Probably due to the stress of the Season. She has had her queer starts, but in general she is a level-headed girl. You’ll see.”

Cressida closed her eyes, trying to make sense of their conversation. “Are you referring to me?”

“Forgive me, Cressy. I almost forgot you were there,” Hector said in a voice that told her he was more put out with her than sorry, and had not forgot for a moment she was present. “Allow me to introduce you to Lord Kenington.”

Her stomach sank, and a sick feeling rose into her throat. “The gentleman you met up with who has been traveling with you?”

“The very same.” Hector gave her a warning look. “After I showed him the miniature I carry of you and some of your letters, he decided he would very much like to meet you.”

Oh. Dear. God. This must be the “present” her brother had brought back. The Marquis of Kenington. No wonder Papa had been so set against Lord Stanstead, and Mama had not been concerned when he’d not shown Cressida much attention.

Emily had been right. Cressida should have been more careful. She held out her hand. “A pleasure, my lord.”

He dutifully bowed over her hand. “At long last, Miss Banks.”

As they reentered the ballroom and he glanced down at her, disapproval filled his green eyes. “As your brother mentioned, from his description and your letters, I thought I’d be meeting a woman, not a little girl bent on ruining the lives of others for her own pleasure.”

He’d pitched his voice so low only she could hear him. For that she was thankful. Her cheeks burned with shame. No one had ever spoken to her like that. The problem was, despite being warned, she had been heedless and deserved to have a peal rung over her head. “I’m sorry.”

Hector glanced back. “I know you two will have a great deal to discuss.”

“We will indeed,” Lord Kenington responded.

Cressida wanted to go home and hide in her bed. If she ruined this, her parents and brother would never forgive her. She would accept responsibility for her mistake and go on as if it was in the past. “I look forward to our conversations, my lord.”

He glanced down, one black brow rising slowly. “I doubt that very much.”

Rupert took his parents home before driving to Mount Street with Vivian.

“Will you come in and have a glass of brandy or tea?”

His arm snaked around her waist. “I have something to do, but it won’t take long. Wait for me?”

She cupped his cheek in her palm. “Forever.”

A half hour later, Vivian heard the front door open, and rushed into the hall. “Rupert, Nick is here. He told us what happened.” She took his hands, holding them against her face. “I am so proud of you for not calling that dreadful man out.”

They reached the door to the drawing room, but before she could open it, Rupert was kissing her. “I won’t say I didn’t consider it, but it would have harmed your reputation, and I could not have that.”

“Thank you.” She gazed into his eyes and saw all the love she now knew she had been missing, not only in her marriage but her whole life. “He must have been horrible. Even Nick had to dance around what was said.”

“In a few hours it won’t matter.”

Vivian smiled at Rupert, and a peace settled over her. “It doesn’t matter now. If only we didn’t have to wait until morning to wed.”

“Vivian, my love, I need to be with you.”

They couldn’t go to Hill Street, but she did have a wing of this house to herself. Clara had put Silvia and Nick at the opposite end of her wing. The only question was, how scandalized would Clara be if she discovered Rupert in Vivian’s bedchamber? They were going to be married soon. “You must come in for a while; everyone is expecting you. But later, my maid will meet you at the garden gate.”

Concern lurked in his eyes. “Come home with me, where I can keep you safe.”

Oh, she wanted to, but that would upset her cousin. “You know I cannot, and it is not fair to ask it of me.”

“You’re right.” He kissed her forehead. “Promise me you won’t even step outside the house after I leave. Not even with a footman.”

“That I can vow.” She stroked his jaw. The light growth of his beard made it rougher than usual. “The next time I enter the wider world it will be as your wife.”

“Thank you.”

He bent his head to her again, and the door opened. Silvia’s eyes rounded. “I’m sorry. It’s just that you were taking so . . .”

“It’s fine.” Vivian almost laughed at her friend’s expression. “We’ll come in now.”

“Sweetheart.” Nick smirked. “I did suggest you leave them alone.”

This time, Silvia didn’t rise to his bait. “And you were correct.”

As they entered the drawing room, Lady Telford called for more wine. “After what Beresford told us, I am inclined to move the wedding up by an hour or more. Normally your father would have to come here to Telford House in order to discover my whereabouts, but with Tewkesbury”—she raised her lips in a sneer—“around, they might already know. I can’t think they will come before ten o’clock, but one is better safe than sorry.”

“If Mr. Trevor can be here by then, I agree.” Vivian glanced at Rupert. “What do you think?”

“I’ll send a message to my parents and cousins. They wish to attend the ceremony and won’t care what time we have it.”

“Stanstead.” Clara looked more troubled than she had previously. “You should spend the night here. Your valet may bring your clothing over, and I’ll have my housekeeper make up the rooms.”

Vivian showed him to the writing desk, and in short order the notes had been sent by messenger.

“Clara, thank you for being so understanding.”

“I’m merely attempting to keep any fighting that may occur to a minimum.” Her tone was as proper as could be, but her gaze slid to Rupert. “On the other hand, I wouldn’t blame Stanstead at all if he planted someone a well-deserved facer.”

Later that evening, after everyone had gone to bed, Vivian took her bedside candle and walked to Rupert’s chamber.

He was still awake, naked, and so wonderfully handsome. “I was coming to you.”

She placed the candle holder on a table. “I thought you might, but it is easier for me to be wandering around than it is for you.”

Rupert gathered her into his arms. “I missed holding you.”

She leaned against him, giving him her weight, enjoying his strong arms and muscular body. “I know. This will be the last night we must sneak around.”

The palm of his hand stroked her from the nape of her neck to her derrière, sparking a fire down her back.

“Umm.” Vivian teased his lips with her tongue. “Make love to me, my lord.”

“Gladly, my lady.” Holding her hand, Rupert led her to the bed and slowly untied the ribbons of Vivian’s nightgown. Opening the neck, he kissed each bit of her skin as he exposed it. By the time he reached her breasts, she was about to expire with unadulterated lust.

“Rupert, please, I can’t wait.”

“No?” His lips curved. “I thought you might want a sample of what I have planned for you to-morrow.”

“This will kill me.” She lay down on the bed, pulling him on top of her. “Someday I shall learn how to drive you to distraction.”