The Marriage Lesson (7 page)

“Yes, well, I can be exceedingly kind when the occasion calls for it,” Thomas said with a grin. “Although admittedly it was scarcely a sacrifice to spend a few minutes waltzing with beautiful women. I daresay I will be the envy of every man in the park with the three of you by my side.”

“Are you showing us off, then?” Marianne tilted her head. “Like wares to prospective buyers?”

“Not at all.” Genuine indignation flooded him. “My intention in escorting you here was nothing of the sort.”

“Only because you didn’t think of it,” she said primly.

“My dear lady, I . . . ” His denial ground to a halt. Displaying them was an excellent idea and he should have thought of it. He ignored the realization and adopted his sincerest manner. “I simply think this is the least I can do to make up for the disgraceful lack of attention I have paid you and your sisters since your arrival.” Even to his own ears it didn’t ring true.

“Yes, it is. However, I do hope we have not inconvenienced you, pulling you from the comfort of hearth and home to brave the crowds of Hyde Park.” The corners of her mouth quirked upward slightly as if she were holding back a smile.

At once he realized, regardless of her other charges, she knew exactly why he had proposed they join the parade of those wishing to see and be seen who frequented the park every afternoon. And it had little to do with his effort at being a gracious host.

The duchess’s ball was tomorrow and it seemed the fevered pitch of work in the household had accelerated, if possible, in preparation for the grand event. Lord knew the Duke and Duchess of Roxborough had had any number of entertainments in the past, yet he couldn’t remember ever seeing the household in such a frenzy. Perhaps it was due to the absence of his mother’s personal attention. Admittedly it could well be that he’d simply never paid heed to such activity before.

Now, however, he was the official host, and the ultimate responsibility for the success or failure of the ball, and the launching of the Shelton sisters into society, would be laid at his feet. “I’m afraid I couldn’t face another minute of it.”

Today she seemed much more the talkative creature she’d appeared in the library and he had suggested abandoning their carriage for the footpaths precisely to be able to engage her in relatively private conversation. And admittedly, he rather liked not having to share her attention.

Marianne nodded toward a sedate, dark-haired beauty riding in an open carriage. “I think she looks like a distinct possibility.”

“A possibility for what?”

“Why, for the kind of bride you’re seeking, of course.”

“How would you . . . ” He grimaced. “Is there anything else I said in what I thought was a private conversation that you will use against me?”

She flashed him a smile and her eyes twinkled behind her spectacles. “You may depend on it, my lord.”

He heaved an exaggerated sigh. “Very well, I surrender. Tell me why you think that young lady, the daughter of a marquess, I believe, would be a suitable bride.”

Marianne studied the woman thoughtfully. “Well, she’s perfectly attired in the latest stare of fashion, so she obviously has a respectable dowry. And she’s not the tiniest bit mussed. That alone says a great deal about her character.”

“Nonsense. I know any number of women who are faultlessly turned out yet not the least bit amenable.”

“Do you think so?” He was amused in spite of hearing his own words thrown back at him.

“I do. I think she’s exactly the type of woman who would make you . . .  how did you phrase it?”

“I don’t remember,” he said firmly.

“Come, now, how could you forget? I know I can’t. You said you wanted a woman to whom you will be the moon and the stars.” She nodded. “Yes, I definitely think you should seek an introduction.”

“Perhaps I will.”

“I should be happy to inform you of any other prospects I might encounter.”

“That would be most appreciated.” He chuckled. “Now that we have identified a potential match for me, what of you? Do you see anyone you would consider?”

“I told you I have no intention of marrying.”

“That’s right. You wish to have adventures.”

“And experience life.”

“Of course.” Under other circumstances, he might well find that declaration enticing and worth further exploration. But as the man charged for now with safeguarding Marianne and her sisters, he didn’t like the implications of that phrase one bit.

“However, I have given your plan to find us all husbands a great deal of consideration.”

“You have,” he said cautiously.

“And?” He wasn’t sure if he wanted to hear the answer.

“And I recognize adventures are in short supply for a woman in my position. I have no money of my own to speak of, at least not at the moment, so I am, again at the moment, trapped in a town in which the most exciting thing that could happen is a faux pas at a ball. I suppose there is the chance of some sort of scandal but surely that doesn’t count as true adventure. Don’t you agree?”

“Well, I—”

“Exactly.” She nodded firmly. “After all, I scarcely think there is much possibility of running into pirates at the duchess’s ball or marauding bands of Bedouins at Almacks or African cannibals at Vauxhall—”

“One never knows,” he murmured.

“—therefore, since I can’t expect adventures of any significance, I shall have to focus my efforts on experiencing life.”

There was that annoying phrase again. He chose his words with care. “And what does that have to do with my plan?”

“Why, Thomas, it’s obvious.” She stared at him curiously, as if she couldn’t believe he didn’t understand what in the hell she was talking about. “I’m going to cooperate with you fully.”

“You are?”

He snorted in disbelief then narrowed his eyes. “Why?”

“My goodness, do try to pay attention.” Marianne sighed in exasperation. “The opportunity for adventure is minimal; however, the opportunity to experience life is endless.”

“What?” He halted in midstride and glared. Surely she wasn’t saying what he thought she was saying. “What on earth do you mean by that?”

“You needn’t take that tone. Honestly, it’s not as if I’m about to squander my virtue willy-nilly on the first man to come along.” She thought for a moment. “Even though I do think virtue is an overrated quality.”

“You do?” His voice had a stange, strangled quality about it.

“Indeed I do.” She nodded vigorously. “If one is planning to marry I suppose it’s important, but if one has no interest in marriage, it quite loses it’s significance, don’t you agree?”

“I most certainly do not,” he said indignantly, wondering at the irony of him, of all people, discouraging such an attitude in a woman.

She studied him for a moment. “You know for a man with your rakish reputation you’re a bit stuffy.”

“Stuffy!” He drew himself up and stared down his nose at her. “I’ll have you know I am not the least bit stuffy. In point of fact I am universally considered to be quite a rousing good time.”

“You hide it well,” she said mildly. “Except when you’ve had too much to drink, of course. I can see how then you might be considered just the tiniest bit fun.”

“I wasn’t arguing—”

“—we shall attract no end of attention,” he muttered. “The next thing you know all of London will be gossiping about the argument—”

“Really more of a discussion.”

“—in public between the Marquess of Helmsley and an attractive young lady—”

“Attractive?” She glanced up at him, her brown eyes behind her glasses wide and enticing. At the moment he realized how very attractive she really was.

“Yes.” He glared down at her. “Damn it all, attractive.” Quite pretty and very appealing and more than a bit provocative.

She turned her gaze back to the walk before them and smiled a soft, private kind of smile. An urge to protect her that went far beyond the requirements of responsibility swept through him.

“Now, then.” He pushed the feeling aside. “What precisely is your definition of
experience life
?”

“I’m not entirely certain.” She raised a shoulder in an offhand shrug. “I shall have to figure it out as I go along. Although I do believe kissing you was a first step.”

“There shall be no more kissing,” he said with a no-nonsense tone that belied the realization that he would not be averse to kissing her again and again until she melted in his arms.

“Perhaps not with you.”

Where were the other two? He glanced around with a mounting sense of unease. The footpaths were at their most crowded at this time of day; still he should be able to spot the girls.

A knot settled in his stomach. Blast it all, if he lost them there would be hell to pay. He scanned the drive filled with slow-moving carriages and finely bred cattle. Swiveled and searched the walkers behind him. Turned and studied the backs of those strolling in front of him. All the world was awash with bobbing hats and parasols, swishing skirts and muted voices. Each looking like every other. Why hadn’t he paid attention to what the damned girls were wearing?

“Whatever are you doing?” Marianne said.

“Looking for your sisters,” he snapped. “You may not have noticed but they’ve disappeared. Probably run off to experience life or execute some other fiendish plan designed for no better purpose than to muck up my life.”

She laughed. “Nonsense. Why, they’re right—”

“On foot today, Helmsley? Not your usual style.” The arrogant drawl sounded off to the side behind him.

“Pennington. Berkley.” Thomas greeted them reluctantly. Both were known rakes and admittedly his friends; still, he wasn’t particularly ready to expose his innocent charges to them.

“You spoke too soon, Pennington.” Berkley’s gaze shifted to a spot behind Thomas and admiration colored his voice. “This is much more impressive than Helmsley’s usual style.” Berkley slipped from his horse and stepped closer. “Well done, old man.”

Thomas turned. Marianne, Jocelyn and Becky stood gazing at the newcomers, the same smile gracing all three faces. At once he saw them as the others must have. They were the perfect picture of feminine charm. Fresh, delightful and lovely. He frowned. Perhaps too lovely.

“Don’t just stand there, Helmsley, introduce us.” Pennington nudged him. He too had dismounted and both men now stood at Thomas’s elbow.

“Yes, my lord.” Marianne extended her hand to Pennington. “Please do.” What on earth had happened to her voice? Surely it hadn’t been quite that, well, sultry a moment ago. His frown deepened.

“Allow me to present the Ladies Marianne, Jocelyn and Becky Shelton,” Thomas said reluctantly.

“Rebecca,” Becky murmured.

Both men apparently felt compelled to kiss each and every offered hand in a flurry of greetings. A bit overdone to Thomas’s thinking. And hadn’t Pennington lingered a shade longer than necessary over Marianne’s hand?

“We’d be honored.” Marianne favored Berkley with a smile that was entirely too inviting.

“If you would be so kind.” Pennington absently thrust his horse’s reins into Thomas’s hands and moved to Marianne’s side.

Thomas stared at them indignantly. “I say, Pennington—”

“Be a good chap, Helmsley.” Berkley passed Thomas his own reins and stepped between Jocelyn and Becky, or rather Rebecca, and the group started off.

“I am not a blasted groom, you know,” Thomas called after them.

“No one would possibly mistake you for a groom, my lord.” Marianne paused and looked at him over her shoulder, her eyes wide with feigned innocence. “But you don’t mind, do you?”

“How could he?” Jocelyn said in an airy manner. “He wants us to meet new people.”

“How very thoughtful of you, my lord.” Becky cast him an overly sweet smile.

Thomas stared in stunned disbelief. The others moved on and he had no choice but to follow, leading the horses and muttering to himself. “I bloody well do mind.”