Lady Harriet's Unusual Reward (5 page)

Chapter Eight

William helped Harriet down from the coach and Lord Stephen helped Miss Callahan down. The gentlemen escorted the ladies inside the Simkins London residence. They had waited at least half an hour for their carriage to make it to the head of the line so they could alight and enter the house. Once inside Harriet heard Lord Stephen’s murmured directions to Miss Callahan as to what to do, his instructions polite and subtle. She would be introduced as William’s intended for the first time and was under strict instructions to do and say as little as possible to draw attention to herself. As a maid for many years in a big house, they had decided that Mary could probably pull that off quite easily. It was, after all, the job of staff to be not seen or heard.

Once they had been introduced by a footman, something that had caused a few murmurings—no doubt from people wondering who Miss Callahan was—the gentlemen went in one direction and the ladies in another. They were approached by the Countess of Assynt and her two twittering daughters. The woman wore a garish turban with three large peacock feathers, while her earlobes were weighed down with the heaviest diamonds that Harriet had ever seen—and Harriet had seen a lot of diamonds in her life. The daughters were typical young ladies in white silk gowns, searching for husbands and probably failing due to their overbearing mother.

“Ah Lady Harriet, I hear you brought your… err… brother with you. I hope he is going to behave himself.”

“I am sure he will,” Harriet answered politely, seething inwardly. “Pray, how is Viscount Hornby and his lovely wife? Does she still sing in the opera? Or has motherhood stopped her? I have to say everyone was surprised how healthy the baby was when it was born at just six months. Such a blessing though for you.”

“Oh yes, it is and they are all doing fine, thank you. Oh I beg your pardon. I see Lady Stanhope. I must speak to her. Lovely chatting.”

As the woman rushed away, Mary turned to Harriet.

“Lady Harriet, that was a bit cruel. They will say that about me.”

“Mayhap, my dear, but I shall not be the one sticking the knife in first.”

“Oh I see.” Though Harriet suspected she did not. But the thing was, the
ton
was a nasty institution, if one could call it an institution. One had to have claws to survive it, especially when one’s brother was classed as an imbecile… and that was one of the more pleasant epithets used for William.

“Ah Lady Harriet, how lovely to see you.” A gentleman bowed courteously to Harriet and she curtseyed to him.

“Lord Dansworth, always a pleasure. May I introduce Miss Callahan? She is to marry the Earl of Oldbeck.”

Lord Dansworth bowed to Mary. She curtseyed slowly as Harriet had taught her earlier that afternoon after their impromptu dance lesson. She was a fast learner, at least in this instance.

“A pleasure, Miss Callahan. May I say you look very fetching this evening? Perhaps you might honour me with this dance.”

“Oh I…”

“What Miss Callahan means is that she turned her ankle on her way out of church this morning and it still pains her. She would be too polite to refuse you as she does not know you, my lord, but as old friends, I have no such compunctions. If I may, I shall refuse you on her behalf and you can be offended at my rudeness.”

He chortled merrily.

“Same old Harry, eh? What about you, then. Would you dance with me?”

“I would love to but I would not wish to leave Miss Callahan alone.”

“Let us look after Miss Callahan then.” Harriet turned to see Lord Stephen and William standing, glasses of champagne in hand. “Please, go ahead and dance.”

Harriet smiled and accepted Lord Dansworth’s hand graciously. She had not really wanted to dance but it would be churlish to refuse now—not to mention impolite.

It was a waltz and that meant she would have to speak to him throughout the dance. That may be a problem.

“So Oldbeck is getting a leg shackle, is he?”

“Yes, he is.”

Dansworth began to sweep her expertly around the floor. He was, like most gentlemen of the
ton
, an excellent dancer.

“He is not… how shall I say it… the marrying type?”

“Because he’s an imbecile?”

“Now, I never said that, Harry.”

“That is Lady Harriet to you. And you did not have to say it, my lord. I know what everyone is thinking.”

“Do you?”

“Yes, I do, as it happens, for I would be thinking the same thing.”

“Is she marrying him for the money?”

“No. Believe it or not, it is a love match.”

“A love match?”

“Yes. They happen. Do you think my brother would marry for anything less?” They stopped talking as Dansworth navigated them through a crush of bodies. When they eventually reached something approximating fresh air again, Dansworth spoke.

“Probably not. But will she be happy with someone like Oldbeck?”

“She is like Oldbeck. She has difficulty with words and numbers and understanding too.”

His lips formed an ‘o’ shape.

“But what about children? Will they not be like their parents?”

“There is no telling. They think that the reason William has problems is because my mother had difficulties birthing him. She nearly died. Why Miss Callahan is the way she is, one cannot tell. She has no parents to ask. But James, we are old friends, please, I beg you, do not gossip about this. There shall be enough gossip and, whereas I do not care so much for I have given up all hope of marriage and care not for the good graces of the
Beau Monde
, I do fear for William who shall have to come to town frequently. Lord Stephen Charville is helping him, but this is a cruel world. You know this.”

Dansworth smiled kindly and squeezed her hand gently.

“Do not concern yourself, Harry. I shall not breathe a word to anyone. Not even my mistress.”

“Oh you are such a rake.”

“Indeed. Ah this dance is over and it is with sadness but with a little relief that I return you to Charville’s side because he looks like he wants to call me out and I do not think I could beat him in a duel. I am told he is a sharp shooter with a pistol. I do believe the fellow is jealous.”

“Jealous? Oh, I do not believe so.”

****

When Lady Harriet arrived back at Stephen’s side, Dansworth bowed and took his leave. She was flushed and smiling. He did not like it one little bit. He had watched her conversing amicably with Dansworth as they waltzed. The man was a known rake.

His hand had been a little too low on Lady Harriet’s back to be appropriate. Then he had looked up and grinned at Stephen as if baiting him. Little did Dansworth realise that Stephen was not the slightest bit interested in Lady Harriet. Oh she was beautiful, clever, witty, intelligent, adorable and was filling out her ball gown exquisitely. But he was sworn off marriage altogether.

Harriet was looking around the ballroom, an anxious expression on her face.

“Lord Stephen, where are my brother and his betrothed?”

“Over at the punch bowl.” Stephen had sent them over a couple of minutes earlier to stop William prattling about how great it all was and how many candles there must be in the chandeliers. It had not been well done of him but he’d been so annoyed by the proprietorial way Dansworth had been holding his Harriet.

She stood on tiptoe to see the refreshments table.

“No, they are not. They are not there, my lord.” Her voice was higher than normal—slightly panicked.

Stephen turned, noted too they were not there then did a quick scan of the room.

“Devil take it. Come with me.” He caught Harriet by the elbow. A young man and his lady. There was only one place he would take her and that was the balcony. He only had to hope they got there before a scandal occurred. William had no sense of propriety.

Stephen did not care that people may think they were hurrying out for an assignation of their own. If he had to marry the chit to save her reputation, then so be it. At the moment, he had to stop Oldbeck from cocking everything up. As they walked through the double doors he found Elizabeth and his brother standing talking to Oldbeck and Miss Callahan. They approached slowly so as to pretend nothing was out of the ordinary.

Elizabeth turned.

“Ah Lord Stephen, darling, I hear that you may be employing a governess for our niece. About time too. Miss Callahan was telling us all about it.”

“She was?” Harriet looked appalled.

The duchess turned to Harriet and smiled graciously

“The story seems a little disjointed and she has turned a delightful shade of pink a few times and stopped talking so I suspect it to be somewhat edited. Please do not worry, Lady Harriet, I have a sister who has similar qualities to Miss Callahan and your brother. She gets up to all kinds of mischief. Even if I were to learn of the whole story, I am sure I would not be shocked. Melissa has probably done worse.”

Harriet appeared to relax somewhat and drew in a deep breath.

“You look a little overset, if you do not mind me saying, Lady Harriet,” said the Duke of Halimead.

“Your Graces, I am sorry I…” She curtseyed low, obviously realising she had not done so when she had met them.

“Oh my dear, please, while we appreciate the gesture, it is not necessary when you were clearly worried for your brother. As you can see, he and his young lady are fine. Perhaps we could chaperone them. My brother could escort you for a while and allow you to get some fresh air on this lovely balcony.”

“That would be lovely. If Lord Stephen does not mind.”

“Oh Lord Stephen does not mind,” chimed in the duchess. “He loves a walk in the gardens as much as the next gentleman.” She gave her husband a knowing look who returned a warning glance before ushering their charges back through the French doors.

Stephen did not mind at all. He liked Lady Harriet and enjoyed her company. It was nice to have five minutes with her where they did not have to worry about William or Mary or Phoebe. He glanced back at where his sister-in-law and brother had been, wondering why the devil they were here and not in the country but that could wait. For now he could turn his attention to Lady Harriet.

They walked down the steps of the balcony into the garden which was lit with strings of lanterns.

“Thank you for arranging dresses for Phoebe. You sent the bills to me?”

“I did. The Oldbeck estate is barely turning a profit at present. I am afraid I am past the point of pride and could not have afforded to clothe someone else’s child when I have just bought a wardrobe for Mary. You should have someone on your staff who can alter her gowns though. It is worth enquiring of your housekeeper. Your governess will be able to take her for new gowns once you have one in place. You should not be bothered with such tasks in the future.”

“Lizzie, the duchess, usually does that but she was supposed to be going back to country. Presumably they have been delayed or something.”

“You seem a little put out that she is here.”

“No, not as such. I just wonder if she was telling me the truth when she said she was going back to the country or if she was trying to make me responsible for Phoebe.”

“She is your daughter.”

“I know.” Anger rose in him. “Why does everyone think I am a useless father to her? I am doing my best.”

She turned and cupped his cheek—a forward gesture that took him by surprise.

“No one thinks you are useless. But fathers sometimes forget what daughters need. I know my father did.”

“And what do daughters need?”

His voice rasped. Her closeness set him on edge, but not in a bad way. He watched her red lips open as she started to speak.

“Love, companionship, tenderness, care, protection.”

“Are these not the things a lover needs?”

“Perhaps.”

He lowered his head so their lips were but an inch apart.

“And what does Harriet need?”

He heard her swallow hard, but she looked up into his eyes and her lips parted slightly. He was torn between pushing her away and enveloping her in his embrace. How had he got himself into such a situation?

“Help. With William and Mary. And not just for a week.”

“Do you still want me to marry you?”

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.

“And what about when I come to take my conjugal rights, Harriet?”

Another swallow. Then that pretty pink tongue darted out to wet her red lips. He felt his breeches tighten. Damn, this was dangerous territory.

“There is nothing to fear. Every woman must accept a man into her bed at some point. Some even enjoy it.”

“And would you enjoy it, Harriet? My hands roaming all over your bare flesh, the weight of my body atop yours, my sweat dripping onto you as I rut above you, my lips crushing yours?”

He placed his hand on the back of her head, expecting her to pull away but she did not.

When he captured her lips roughly, she grabbed his shoulders. Pushing his tongue into her mouth, he claimed her, moving her against a tree for support. He angled her head, his fingers digging though her neat coiffure to position her the way he wanted her, as his tongue rasped along hers, his lips giving her no quarter. A muffled gasp as she tried to comprehend his roughness, a movement of her breasts against his chest as she lifted herself to meet him more fully. Good God, despite his manhandling, she was enjoying this.