Never a Bride (17 page)

Mirabella was full of surprises. “Do you now?”

“Indeed.”

“Let’s see.” He pushed his damp hair away from his face and pretended to ponder her words. “I picked my first fiancée. My father picked my second. And now you feel qualified to pick my third chance at a bride?”

“Oh, yes. I, above all, know what you are looking for in a bride.”

He chuckled. “Thank you, Mirabella, but I think I’ll wait a few years before considering a bride again.”

“Perhaps when you are old and gray, my lord, would be a good time.”

“No truer words have been said this day. I think that is exactly what I’ll do. Good evening, Mirabella.”

Viscount’s Mad Dash Through Hyde Park

Was this writer the only one who heard about Lord Stonehurst’s wild spurt across Hyde Park yesterday afternoon? The newly returned-to-Town viscount nearly ran down three strolling couples, two earls, a countess, and a duchess before he dashed out of sight. Hmm. One wonders if he had just heard the same bit of news this writer was made privy to late yesterday. It seems the reports are that the viscount was all but brought to dueling (for the second time!) with two of the Season’s most eligible gentlemen over reports that his fiancée had been seen walking with them in the garden. But, of course, both gentlemen who were said to be in attendance swore the scuffle never happened, and that as far as they knew, Miss Whittingham was a perfect lady. Makes one wonder how gossip gets started if there is no basis in the foundation. Hmm. Or does it?

—
Lord Truefitt,
Society’s Daily Column

Camden slammed the paper down on his father’s desk in the small office of their town house. He took a deep breath and muttered a few choice words under his breath. Why did he even read the rags? They were nothing but scandal sheets, and he had better use of his time than to read such drivel.

He didn’t come close to running anyone down when he left the park. Well, maybe one or two. And he’d like to know who the talebearer was that had witnessed his scuffle with Stephenson and told about it. Camden would have a private talk with him if he ever found out.

It was no wonder most of the people who wrote the gossip columns kept their true names private. They didn’t want anyone asking them how much money they paid out each year for the unsubstantiated balderdash they printed. Someone had to know who the evildoers were.

There was one good thing about all of this. Apparently his talk with Farthingdale and Stephenson had paid off. According to the gossip pages, the young men were mum about their intimacy with Mirabella. But were there other men he didn’t know about?

Mirabella wouldn’t tell him. By her silence he could only assume there were others. Why wouldn’t she tell him? Were there too many to count? He couldn’t even think about that possibility.

He could understand her not wanting to go through life without a kiss, but did she have to kiss more than one man? More than two? Just how damn many men had she kissed? Camden had to stop thinking about it. It was driving him to distraction.

He laid his head against the tuft of the chair and thought back to yesterday afternoon. She had demonstrated that she was a woman of rare passion, eager to participate in lovemaking. No doubt, any man would have his hands full with a woman such as she.

A
mistress?
Mirabella?

He supposed it was logical that she might think she was born to be a mistress because she enjoyed a man’s touch. From what Camden understood most wives were passive, not active in the marriage bed. It was a longstanding rule among some men that the finer pleasures of lovemaking were for their mistresses’ beds, not their wives’ bedrooms.

Perhaps it was a reasonable deduction for Mirabella to think that, because he didn’t want to marry her, the life of a mistress would be an acceptable alternative considering her erotically appealing side. But why did the idea of Mirabella as a wealthy man’s mistress distress him almost to the point of madness? The very thought of it wrenched his gut into hard knots.

He’d be a fool not to think about the possibility of Mirabella becoming his mistress as she had all but suggested. Camden felt stirrings in his lower body.

No, he didn’t want to consider Mirabella as a mistress for himself or any other man. He wanted her because she was a beautiful, utterly engaging young lady. She matched his intellect and his desires. However, her inappropriate behavior with the other men made her unacceptable as his wife. So why didn’t he like the thought of her being his mistress any better than the thought of her being someone else’s courtesan?

Camden closed his eyes and remembered snippets from yesterday afternoon. He savored each image that came to mind: the chilling rain and the hot kisses. He’d never forget the smell of damp foliage, the taste of her wet skin, or the vigorous wanting and the denied ecstasy.

One minute she was teasing him with her banter; the next she was an impassioned woman, malleable to his manly needs and her own womanly pleasures; and in the next minute she was reminding him why she would never be his. By the end of the day, she was talking of mistresses and suggesting the name of a proper young lady who would make him a good wife. She was almost too much for him.

Almost.

Camden chuckled.

There was a knock on the door of his father’s small office. Camden opened his eyes and leaned forward.

“Having a good laugh all by yourself, are you?” Hudson asked as he walked into the room.

Camden cleared his throat and straightened in his chair. “Yes, I was.”

“Care to share?”

“I don’t think so.”

Hudson reached over and picked up the scandal sheet from the desk. “I saw this earlier. Good you can get such enjoyment out of being dragged through the muck.”

“No doubt the wretched souls have nothing else to occupy their time.”

“May I sit down?”

“Certainly. How was your afternoon?”

Camden gave his attention to his brother and brushed aside the papers he had been going through before his mind had wandered. Hudson made himself comfortable in the armchair on the other side of their father’s desk.

“Splendid when I called on Miss Pemberton and a holy debacle when I called on Lady Gwyneth.”

“Miss Pemberton, I understand, but what’s this about Lady Gwyneth?”

“I was hoping you would ask.”

“How could I not? It surprises me that things aren’t as serious with you and Miss Pemberton as I thought.” Camden breathed a silent sigh of relief, thinking it was good that Hudson wasn’t ready to offer for the young lady’s hand.

“Oh, I was astonished anyone would think that, too,” Hudson said. “It was made known to me last night, by an acquaintance, that Lady Gwyneth would welcome a call from me. So, even though I’m quite devoted to Miss Pemberton, naturally, I didn’t want to disappoint Lady Gwyneth, since she had gone to such lengths to gain my attention.”

“I should think not. No reason not to keep your options open until a match has been made. She is a beautiful young lady.”

“You think so?”

“Yes. If she asked someone to speak to you, she was most definitely interested in you. I’m glad you went, Hudson.”

Hudson expelled a heavy breath. “You may not think that when you hear what I have to say.”

Camden tensed and braced himself. He wondered if she’d heard something about Mirabella’s indiscretions or his fight with Sir Patrick Stephenson and decided to tattle to his brother.

Camden managed to keep his expression blank and asked, “What is that?”

“What, indeed. It was pure insanity. The wretched fellow who gave me the tip got me confused with you. She welcomed a call from Lord Stonehurst. Not his brother, Hudson.”

“The devil, you say?”

“It’s true. She was most outraged about the whole misunderstanding.”

“But she knows I’m betrothed.”

“But not married. People change their minds and lovers elope to Gretna Green. It is still as popular as ever for those who wish to marry without their fathers’ blessings.”

Camden laughed. “Well, I hope you set her straight. I don’t intend to leave Mirabella and run away with Lady Gwyneth Sackville.”

“She did most of the talking, I’m afraid. She’s quite adept at getting her point across.”

“Yes, she is a determined young lady.”

“At first she thought you had sent me in your place and, I swear, she was on the verge of throwing back the flowers I gave her.”

Camden thought about chuckling again but thought better of it. Hudson was truly in a dither over the matter. “What a scene that must have been.”

“Not one I want to repeat. When she walked into the parlor, and I was standing there, her face turned as pink as the gown she was wearing. She was quite annoyed that she’d spent so much time getting ready for the wrong person. I made my leave as soon as I could once I was aware a mistake had been made.”

Camden deliberately focused on shuffling through some papers on the desk to keep from smiling again. Beautiful and wealthy young ladies could be spoiled chits when they wanted to be.

“No worry now. It looks to me as if you made it out of the situation with your neckcloth in place. So all is well.”

“That remains to be seen. I think she’s set her cap for you, Camden.”

“That’s ridiculous. I have no interest in her and have shown no interest in her.”

“Be that as it may, consider yourself warned. Don’t be caught alone with her, or you’ll find yourself in a compromising position and end up having to marry the wrong girl.”

God forbid.

“Wise words I’ll keep in mind, Hudson.”

Camden wanted to marry someday and have an heir, but, blast it, he had no desire for a pouty eighteen-year-old who couldn’t bow out of a misunderstanding graciously. No doubt Mirabella had already heard about Lady Gwyneth’s intentions about him, and that was why she suggested the girl might be a good wife for him.

He had no doubts Lady Gwyneth would be a dreadful choice.

He could only hope that she didn’t get wind of any specific details of Mirabella’s rendezvous with the gentlemen in the gardens. She wouldn’t stop until Mirabella couldn’t show her face in Town.

Hudson rose. “Well, I’m going up to get ready for tonight’s parties.” He started untying his neckcloth.

“While you’re here, Hudson, I’d like a word more with you.”

“You sound serious.”

“No, not really. I need to tell you that first thing tomorrow morning our parents will be traveling to our estate in Lockshaven.”

“They are? Before the Season is out? Why? They never leave Town before the end of the Season.” Hudson leaned a slim hip against the desk.

“There are pressing business matters that need the earl’s immediate attention.” Camden didn’t want to tell Hudson that he was sending his father with the money to buy back the land he’d lost. Camden could only hope it would be enough. If not, he gave his father leave to ensure there would be more in the coming months.

“But I thought that land was mortgaged and lost—” He let the last word trail off, his hands stilled on his neckcloth.

“Yes. It was. Perhaps you know more about the family finances than I realized.”

“I know our funds are limited but not all the reasons why. Father assured me all would be well in due time. And that it would not keep us from living the lives a titled gentleman’s sons should live.”

That was only mere days from being not true. Camden saw no reason to tell Hudson what he didn’t already know. With the money Camden had brought with him from America, he had stopped the foreclosure on the town house. There were still many other smaller debts to be paid. His main objective was to regain all the estates and lands that his father had lost over the years.

Only a day after his return, he had sent a letter to his solicitor in America asking him to sell his stake in the Maryland Ship Building Company. Camden knew selling meant he would take a huge financial loss. With the new steam engines that were being built, hauling cargo would be more profitable than ever, but he couldn’t keep his holdings there and let his family lose their ancestral home. And, of course, the dowry had to be repaid to Mirabella’s father.

“I had hoped that I would be able to talk to him about asking for Miss Pemberton’s hand before the Season was over. You know the truly exceptional girls are all matched their first Season. I’d hate for her to think that she’s not among the best.”

Camden felt a twinge of guilt. It wasn’t Hudson’s fault that their father had been so derelict in his financial duty to the family.

“Well, we don’t have to make a decision about that right now. There’s time left in the Season. Let’s wait and see how well things come along. I know you would want to wait until you could properly take care of a wife, and we are not in that position yet.”

“I see.”

“Don’t look so downhearted. We’re going to be all right, but it will take a few months.”

“Months?”

“Yes, it could take that long. We’ve enough to manage until the end of the Season. Don’t worry.”

Hudson seemed to consider Camden’s words. “I suppose I’ll just have to persuade Miss Pemberton to wait for me.”

“I’m sure she’ll understand, and that she will be happy to. She seemed utterly devoted to you when I met her the other evening.”

Hudson smiled at Camden’s words and slid his neckcloth from around his neck. Camden’s eyes zeroed in on a long, thin scratch on the side of his brother’s neck just above his collarbone. It was red and angry looking.

He immediately thought of Mirabella’s strange questioning about scars and birthmarks on Hudson’s body. There had to be a reason she asked about that. But what?

“You’re looking at me as if you’ve seen Lord Pinkwater’s ghost, Camden. Did I suddenly grow a horn?”

“No. A bad scratch. What happened to your neck?”

He put his hand up to the wound and winced. “Ah— at last, I think it’s healing. Wretched thing. I might have a scar. Two weeks ago I was riding like the wind, racing Lord Standbringer, when a low branch from a tree caught me. I didn’t see it because there were no leaves on the limb. It was really quite alarming. I was jerked off the horse and wrenched my knee, causing me to limp for a day or two. I was damned lucky my cravat didn’t tangle in the branches and hang me.”

“Damned lucky indeed.”

How could Mirabella have known about Hudson’s wound?

“Is Standbringer married?”

“The devil no. Swears he loves too many women to settle for just one.”

Camden wondered if perhaps Mirabella walked in the garden with Standbringer, and she had learned about Hudson’s wound from him. Camden shook his head in anger.

Damnation! Would he now suspect every man of having kissed Mirabella?