Lady Bess (8 page)

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Authors: Claudy Conn

Tags: #FICTION / Romance / Regency

BOOK: Lady Bess
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She almost believed him but then wrapped herself up in a protective armor and insisted her heart go and hide. “Cad!” she accused on a light laugh. “You do it so well, but one season was enough to teach me who to be wary of. I am a green girl, yes, but certainly not a fool.”

“Tell him,” Robby said with a laugh. He had returned with a larger glass of punch to grin at their exchange. “That’s right. Run him through, put him to earth. It is just what he deserves.”

“And ye call yerself m’friend, ye blood-thirsty blackguard,” the earl said with a hearty laugh.

Much jesting and rallying followed this, and the Gypsy, his brightly painted wagon, and the boy within its walls were temporarily forgotten.

Bess’s father arrived in time for dinner and announced his intentions of collecting his wayward crew in the morning and returning home.

The earl would hear none of it. “Never say so, for Lady Bess’s horse is not ready for the journey,” he argued reasonably.

The viscount eyed him consideringly and shrugged. “A problem, but not one we cannot overcome. I shall hire her a mount for the trip home—”

The earl cut him off. “Hire?” He shook his head. “So that is what you think of my hospitality? You would hire before you would take one of my own on loan?”

“John,” Bess’s father reproved gently, “you are too good. I must return to the Grange in the morning. There is nothing for it. I have some things I cannot put off to my bailiff.”

“Then be comfortable. Leave your daughter with us, and return as soon as you may. Searington is, after all, just a bit more than an hour’s ride.”

Bess put on her ‘unconcerned face’ but secretly wanted her father to agree to the earl’s suggestion.

Her father’s brow arched, and after a long look at his daughter said, “I have no doubt what your answer will be when I ask. What say you, my daughter?”

She laughed and said, trying to sound very adult and reasonable, “I confess that I would much rather make the trip home on my own Missy when she is recovered.” She turned to her friend. “What say you, Donna—will you stay as well?” Her eyes penetrated her friends’ with her plea.

“Of course they are staying,” the earl answered for them as he took control of the situation. It occurred to Bess that he was a man who would always take control and manage matters to everyone’s satisfaction. She liked that about him. He didn’t just emit self-assurance. He was self-assurance.

As her father still hesitated, the earl regarded him and said quietly, “Your daughter will come to no harm while she is at Searington.”

“Of that I never had a doubt,” Bess’s father returned promptly. He put up his hands. “Very well then, I shall of course return as quickly as I may.” He turned to Bess. “Well then, it is decided. I shall leave in the morning and probably won’t see you before I go, as I will leave quite early, but I should be back within a day or two. I will send your Maddy, and, please, Bess, don’t plague the poor dear, as she is getting on in years, and although you are, I know—” He put up his hands to stall her obvious objection. “—too old for your nanny, she will maintain the proprieties in my absence, and it will be pleasant for her, I believe.” He turned to her friends. “Shall I have my coach stop by and request your maid to put up another portmanteau for you two, as I will send along some additional clothes for Bess?”

“Oh, yes, that would be wonderful,” Donna answered thankfully.

“But, Papa, I am, as you say yourself, too old for my nanny. It is most humiliating, for while I adore her, I certainly don’t need a nanny to look after me.”

“I am not certain of that,” he teased, but his hands were up. “However, you should have a proper chaperone whilst I am not here, and it will do her some good to get out and about for a bit.”

Donna and Bess immediately put their heads together as though they were children planning an adventure, and a great deal of amiable conversation ensued.

It wasn’t until later, when everyone bade each other good night, that Bess’s father leaned into the earl and said, “Don’t let my daughter run you ragged.”

Bess turned away from the grand staircase and, hands on hips, objected, “Papa, I heard that!”

“Heard it, did you?” Robby remarked. “Good then, tell m’sweet wife as well, and mayhap the earl and I will survive the two of you in the same house!”

Laughter filled the hall and stairs as they continued to jest at one another, and Bess thought she couldn’t be happier.

Oh, but, yes, she could—she could be happier if she were hand in hand with the big Scottish earl and headed for the same bedroom. The notion made her body burn.

 

 

 

~ Eight ~

 

DONNA PLAYED WITH the pretty embroidered pillow she held in her lap and did not quite look at Bess as she said,

I am not sure how I feel about what I am going to say, but I am going to say it anyway. I think the earl fancies you, Bess. And what is more to the point, I think your father is as taken with him as you are. I cannot think of any other reason he would allow you to remain under the earl’s roof, even with Maddy and us as chaperones.” She shrugged and then did look Bess in the eye to add, “Stands to reason. After all, he can’t think the earl a libertine, can he? He would never have left you here.”

Bess frowned. “Well there, that is what I said from the start. The earl is very good and kind, and as to his reputation with women, well, people say the most outrageous things and then expound upon them till they are quite blown out of proportion. Papa does not give credence to gossip. But why you should think the earl fancies me? ’Tis nonsense.”

“Is it?” Donna shrugged but said nothing more.

“Indeed. And why you should say such a thing is quite perplexing. You are the one that warned me against him. You told me he was a rogue and I should not think of him, not flirt with him, not do anything with him because he had a reputation of breaking hearts.”

“Here is the thing,” Donna said thoughtfully. “The earl would not, but I rather think you fancy him as well, and I am just wondering what it is you have in that naughty brain of yours.”

Bess laughed. “You are outrageous.”

“Yes, I said those things, and I believed those things, but watching him, seeing the two of you together—I am not so sure. Bess, the look on his face when he is watching you … well, it is remarkable. I am not saying he is the sort to follow through. I still think he is not, and yet he does fancy you. There I have said it again.” She paused and considered Bess. “You see, I think he has a reputation for a reason. I think he has behaved like a rogue and a rake, but I’m not sure he is one at bottom.” Donna waved it off and said, “Never mind, for it probably doesn’t change a thing.”

“Meaning?” Bess puzzled up at her.

“Meaning, playing games with him won’t do the job,” Donna answered flatly.

“Playing games? I am not playing games. The fact is, I think I am losing my heart to him,” Bess said softly.

“Oh dear, I am not sure about all of this. Something tells me he rather more than likes you, but I think at the first sign that you are too attached to him, he will bolt.”

“I quite agree. I am not playing games, but neither am I stupid,” Bess said on a heavy sigh. “I know he is intrigued by me, and I also know he is not in earnest—not yet. I am not his type, or so he thinks. He believes he isn’t really ready for a love match. No doubt, he thinks a connection—a marriage of convenience with Lady Sonhurst—will give him the heir he needs and allow him to be free as well.”

“You are quite right in that way of thinking, and yet, Bess, I have seen him looking at you when he did not know I was watching, and I must say, as I already have, he is certainly taken with you.”

“Perhaps for the moment, but I know it means nothing to him.”

Donna got up and paced before she went to the morning room window, obviously troubled.

Bess followed her and touched her hand. “Don’t worry about this, Donna, I do so like him a great deal, and I see that there is more to him than the reputation he has so enjoyed, and I have a plan.”

The morning room door opened wide, and Robby, his hair windblown, his grin wide, strode into the room and jovially announced, “You will never credit it, but of all things
, there is a carnival
!”

Momentarily diverted, the girls in unison repeated, “A carnival?”

“Where?” Bess demanded excitedly.

“Not more than five miles from here. Where is Dunkirk?”

“How do you know, Robby?” his wife asked as she went to him.

“Had it from Fleetwood,” he answered happily.

“Fleet?” Bess asked in surprise. “How could you have it from Fleet?”

“Why couldn’t he have it from me?” said a voice from the open doorway.

“Fleet!” Bess exclaimed in high glee as she skipped towards him and held his lapels. “You are here, you silly boy. What are you doing here?”

“Well,” admonished Sir George Fleetwood, “what sort of greeting is that?” He slid an arm around her waist and hugged her to him amiably. “Thought you might be happy to see me, pet, and all you can do is call me a ‘silly boy’?”

She giggled happily and, still in his hold, got on tiptoe to plant an affectionate kiss on his fair cheek. “There. I am happy to see you, but that doesn’t answer my question.” She was in fact surprised, because before she had left for Searington Fleet had warned her off the earl, advising her that he was a libertine. She hadn’t thought he even liked the earl.

The earl arrived at this moment, and Bess saw him out of the corner of her eye. He looked irritated, and she wondered what was wrong as he walked towards her and Fleet.

“Sir George,” the earl said in a friendly way of greeting, “welcome. When did you arrive, and to what do we owe this pleasure?”

“To answer you, my lord, I have only just arrived. Been invited to put up with friends not far from here. However, what really brings me to Searington,” he said simply, “is Bess. Missed her.”

Bess flushed and gently disengaged herself from Fleet’s hold. She felt the earl’s gaze on them and saw a dark annoyance in his eyes. She turned to her friend and reproved him in a merry voice, “Beast. You are not here to see me. As far as you knew, I was supposed to be on my way home with Papa today!”

“Ah, so you were,” Sir George returned, “but met your papa on the road. He said you were staying on a few days here.”

Bess laughed. “You are incorrigible, saying you are here because you missed me when you are only stopping by on your way to stay with friends!”

He laughed and pinched her nose. She slapped his hand away, and they both laughed. She turned, found the earl looking stormy, and wondered at it. Was he jealous? Could he be jealous? No, how foolish to think he would be jealous of a boy like George. Anyone could see they were only friends; besides, what did he care? He didn’t.

A servant arrived with a tray of refreshments, and Bess laughed to see Robby’s face light up as he moved towards the tray exclaiming, “Hot buns! Look devilishly inviting.” He moved into position and began serving himself. Then he turned to his wife and asked with a show of a bun in the air if she required one. She laughed and shook her head.

“So tell us, Fleet, where exactly is this carnival?” Bess said as she began pouring and serving tea around to everyone.

“Indeed, you will like it, Bess. I don’t think we’ve been to a carnival in a couple of years,” he said, taking a cup from her and sitting on the sofa to pat a place beside himself for her.

She gave the earl his cup of tea and did, in fact, plop down beside her friend and agree, “Yes, oh yes, I should like it immensely.”

* * *

He felt a fool, jealous over a pup of a boy, but he always faced the facts, and the fact was that he was having to exercise control over himself in Lady Bess’s regard. He had never wanted to be the sort of man that tripped over himself in pursuit of a woman. He wasn’t that man and would not be that man—damnation
! Was he that man?

He couldn’t deny the steam that filled his head when he had walked in to find Sir George’s arm possessively around Lady Bess’s lovely trim waist. He’d wanted to pick the lanky lad up and throw him out the window.

Nothing for it—he had to be honest with himself and admit that was how he felt.

He calmed himself. He knew that the two had been friends for years, and yet the pup had a look on his face when he stared at her—and Sir George did stare at her, every chance he got. No doubt the lad thought himself in love with her. How could he not be in love with her? She was everything any man could ever want in a woman. She was bright and saucy, kind-hearted and dear, beautiful of mind and exquisite of body.

And what of Lady Bess’s feelings in regards to the lad? She looked at Sir George with keen interest, that was certain, and he damn well dinna like it.

He watched her as she poured the tea. Her movements were all grace and elegance. And when she served him a cup, her fingers brushed his own and a thrill rushed through his hand straight to his shaft. All he could think was damn the tea and damn the rules, he wanted to take her into his arms, kiss her like she had never been kissed before, and make her his own.
His!
That was how he felt when he looked at the Lady Bess—
his.

Brimstone and fire, he was burning for this chit!

He wanted her, had been dreaming of her, and knew she was an impossible dream. Taking Lady Bess to bed—and that was all he could think about doing—taking her to bed, undressing her, making love to her in every conceivable way, would mean the end of life as he knew it. It would mean marriage. He dinna deflower women—that was not his style. And he dinna want to marry just because he was in rut for a woman. After all, it couldna be love—he’d guarded against that foolish notion for so long he was now convinced he was incapable of falling in love

He wasna ready to sacrifice all, not even for as bonny a lass as he had ever come across. And he couldna see himself as a faithful husband forever in attendance on a young and sweet-natured wife who would expect all sorts of things from him. He couldna see himself that way, and yet … he wanted her.

Bloody hell! This had been a mistake, keeping her at Searington longer than originally planned.

What he needed was a visit with Sally Sonhurst and a toss in bed to give himself relief …

However, the thought of climbing back into bed with Sally Sonhurst, or anyone other than the bubbling bonny lass who filled his mind, left him dissatisfied. He was at an impasse. Lady Bess stood out, called to him, moved provocatively before him, seducing without even knowing it. He couldna have her; he knew that taking her meant trouble of the worst kind. He wouldna take her and leave her hurt and broken. He couldna do that to her. And he just wasn’t ready to take on a faithful bride and promise the same.

“There is bound to be a performing bear!” announced Robby sharply, breaking into the earl’s thoughts. “I think we should think about getting started.”

He laughed to see Robby stuff another bun into his mouth as Bess stood up and agreed to this, adding, “And fortune tellers!”

He moved in closer to her and murmured, “Do you want to know the future?” His gaze found her full lips, and for a moment he thought he would lose control, company be damned, his logic be damned. He wanted to taste those lips!

“Hmm, the future. Yes, it might be fun to know the future, but then … maybe not.”

“Just like a woman.” He chuckled. “The answer should be either yes or no.”

“Well, we wouldn’t want to know that something awful was about to happen unless we could change it,” Bess said.

“No one can tell the future,” Robby announced.

“I agree. ’Tis Gypsy games but all in good fun. Let’s have them put the horses to,” said Donna, also excited at the prospect of the adventure.

“No,” the earl said. “’Tis a lovely day—think I will drive in m’open phaeton.” He turned to Bess. “Would ye like that?”

“Oh yes, above all things,” she agreed with a small clap of her hands.

He laughed. “And if ye are a good girl, I might let ye take the reins.”

“And what about us?” Donna pouted.

“Ye may drive m’open carriage with m’matched bays,” the earl answered on a chuckle. It occurred to the earl that he thoroughly enjoyed being with this group of friends. He wagged a finger as an afterthought came to him. “Ah, but only if
ye drive
, Donna of Mabry. Doona let that ham-handed lad of yers anywhere near the reins.”

“Oh, but your bays are quite famous! Agreed,” Donna said on a hearty laugh.

“Ham-handed?” objected Robby. “Ham-handed, indeed! I can handle his bays—tell him, Donna.”

“No, darling. There are many things you can handle, but his lordship’s bays are not among them.” She tempered this by giving him a quick kiss on his cheek.

Bess was looking at herself and frowning. “Should I change into something more serviceable?”

The earl regarded her in her yellow muslin. It fit her figure very well, and he liked the scoop of the neckline that displayed the swells of her breasts to perfection. Her dark ringlets had a pretty matching yellow ribbon wound through the long black curls, and he was intrigued with the entire picture she presented. “No, doona change. Just wear a cloak or something warm for the drive.”

Her face brightened. “Oh, I have a lovely warm matching Spencer. I’ll go and fetch it.” She turned to Donna. “What about you?”

Donna smoothed over her rich dark brown velvet with ivory lace and shrugged. “Hmm, think I’ll just wear my cloak.” She started out of the room. “Come on then, let’s go fetch our reticules too.”

Bess turned to the earl, and he lost his breath as his gaze discovered her glittering green eyes. They were warm, they were full with feeling and excitement, and for a moment he got lost in them.

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