The Training of a Marquess (32 page)

“This is the grandest thing, Father, above all things.”

“I am happy that you are happy, Harry.”

“Harry Warron,” his son corrected.

“I’m not going to call you Harry Warron every time I say your name.”

Disappointment crossed Harry’s face. “Then will you just for today so I’ll know how it feels to be Harry Warron?”

The boy hadn’t lost the ability to slay him. “For today only, Harry Warron.”

The pleasure on Harry’s face at hearing his new name spoken was reward in itself for the effort and money it had taken to make this happen. Harry turned to Claire. “Will you call me Harry Warron for today, Lady Claire?”

“Of course I will, Harry Warron.”

Bensey came and stood next to him. “I want to be called Bensey Warron for today, too.”

Chase pulled Bensey between his knees and pointed to his cheek. “Give me a kiss right here, Bensey Warron.”

His sensitive, artistic son kissed his cheek and then rested his head against his father’s chest. Chase feared he might cry. “I love you, Bensey Warron.”

Bensey grinned. “I love you, too, Father Warron.”

“Come on, Bensey Warron, let’s go tell Mr. Edwards and Anders our new name.”

“All right, Harry Warron.”

They left the room holding hands. Chase handed his handkerchief to Claire, and she buried her face in it. He thought he heard her say, “How could I not love you?”

****

An hour later, Claire impatiently waited for Chase and Lady Anne. A delivery had arrived from Madam Jacqueline and she had been ordered not to open anything until the two of them arrived. She walked to her bed and stared at the boxes. There were four dress boxes and several smaller ones. She was dying of curiosity and brought a hand from behind her back to touch the largest one. A knock sounded at the door, and she took a guilty jump back.

“Come in,” she called.

The door opened and Chase walked in behind Lady Anne. “Did you peek?” he asked.

“No, but I must be honest and admit I was within seconds of doing so.”

He chuckled as he came to stand beside her. Lady Anne moved to her other side. He pushed the largest of the dress boxes aside. “We’ll save that one for last. Go ahead, choose one.”

She lifted the top off the one closest to her, and carefully opened the tissue. It was a lovely day gown in pale blue and white striped muslin.

“Oh, I love it.” It was the first gown a modiste had ever made for her. It was lovely. Growing up, her mother had made her clothes and when she married Thomas, the village seamstress had done so. Since Thomas never took her anywhere she had never had a need for many gowns, much less needed to be fashionable.

Lady Anne helped her take the day dress out of the box. “The color is perfect for you, Claire.”

“I think you can thank your son for that, Lady Anne.”

Chase grinned. “I am good, aren’t I?”

“Don’t let it go to your head, Kensington,” Lady Anne advised.

The next box revealed the one thing she most longed for, a riding habit. It was military style in a deep blue color. “Oh, as Harry would say, this is splendid!” She held it in front of her. “What do you think?”

“Like I said, I’m good,” Chase said.

Lady Anne shook her head. “Your head is swelling right before my eyes.”

Claire laughed. She had never considered how happy beautiful clothes could make one feel. The third box was another day dress, this one in a lovely rose floral print. She held it up and raised a brow.

Lady Anne sighed. “Yes, Kensington, you are good.”

“I know.”

Claire carefully placed the day dress on the bed next to the others and eyed the last box. When she pulled the top off and removed the tissue, she stopped breathing. It was the last gown he had chosen when they had gone through the fashion plates. The satin ball gown was the color of a rich burgundy.

“Oh, my.” She lifted it from the box. When she saw the back, she shook her head. “This is breathtakingly beautiful, but I can’t wear it.”

“Yes, you can,” Chase said.

“Let me see,” Lady Anne said.

Claire turned the gown to show the back. “I would feel naked.”

“It is unusual, my dear, but not indecent. Don’t decide until you try it on and then we will see. But I think you’re going to look stunning in it.”

“She will,” Chase said. “You need to try it on before Saturday to make sure it doesn’t require any alterations.”

“What is Saturday?” she asked.

“The Duke of Westhaven’s ball. I have accepted an invitation and it will be your debut into society.”

Claire had an immediate desire to crawl into bed, pull the covers over her head and refuse to come out until Sunday. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

He shook his head. “No, what you are going to be is spectacular. Now, what else is in here?” He rummaged through the paper, bringing out a pair of silver slippers and silver gloves. “Perfect.”

That was easy for him to say as he wouldn’t be the one wearing a dress with no back.

He picked up a smaller box and opened it. “Ah, here it is.” A corset the same color as the gown dangled from his fingers. “This is especially designed to go with the gown.”

“Really, Kensington, you should not be looking at her undergarments.”

He smirked. “Do you think I have never seen a corset before, Mama?”

“This is not a conversation you should be having with your mother. We like to think our sons are innocent little boys, even if said son stands two heads taller and seven stones heavier than his mother. ”

He waved it in front of her face. “I love corsets above all things, Mama, so what do you think of your little boy now?”

Claire could see Lady Anne fight a smile. Their rapport fascinated her. Mother and son had a deep love for one another. Their open affection and the way they teased each other made her regret even more the stiff, remote relationship she’d had with her parents.

They opened the last of the boxes and Claire was thrilled with the three silk chemises and the plainer corset intended for the day dresses. Nothing further was said about Chase being in the room as they admired the fine craftsmanship of her new undergarments.

The next two days flew by. Before she knew it, Saturday arrived and she was sitting in her bath while Maggie washed her hair. Except for Friday morning when she had tried on the gown, she had managed to put tonight’s ball out of her mind. The bath was the beginning of her preparations for the evening, and her nerves made an appearance. If only she could turn the clock forward and make it tomorrow. She dipped her head so Maggie could pour fresh water over her hair.

“There, my lady, all the soap is out.”

Claire stood, and Maggie handed her the drying cloth. “Maggie, what if I do something to embarrass him tonight?”

“Embarrass your lord? I don’t think that is possible, but what I do think is that you are getting yourself turned inside out for no good reason.”

A knock sounded at the door and Maggie opened it, accepted a note and small black box from a footman. When she handed them over, Claire opened the paper and read.

C

Wear no jewelry tonight but these.

C

Claire opened the box and gasped.

“Let me see,” Maggie said.

Claire turned it to show Maggie. Nestled on black velvet was a pair of long, egg-shaped ruby earrings.

“Oooh,” Maggie breathed.

****

Chase paced at the bottom of the stairs. He had never felt such anticipation over a ball in his one and thirty years. A swirl of red turned the corner and hesitated at the top of the stairs. Looking up, he stilled—his ability to breathe stolen by the sight of Claire.

The only word in the English language he could remember passed his lips. “Mine.”

Inhaling deeply, his eyes stayed on her as she descended the stairs. She was a diamond of the first water and his idiot self had spent the last two afternoons at his club dropping hints of a beautiful heiress who would be attending tonight’s ball.

What the bloody hell had he been thinking?

She floated down in a cloud of burgundy satin, and if he never took another breath in his sorry life at least he would have lived to see this. Claire—his Claire—beautiful and sensual, looking back at him as if she would never have eyes for any man but him. He drank in every slow step she took.

Fool that he was, he had offered her up to every buck and dandy in London. All he had thought to do was give her a chance to look over the possibilities so he could be sure when…if she chose him, he could trust that she was sure of her heart.

Bloody hell, he would likely kill any man who came near her.

The dress came to an arc under her neck and hugged every delicious curve of her body, from her breasts to the curve of her hips before flowing down the long lines of her legs. He swallowed hard. The blood red ruby earrings dangling from her ears, her only adornment, made him want to slowly peel everything but the earrings off and then have hot, fevered sex with her. She stepped down, stopping in front of him.

“Turn around,” he said gruffly—too gruffly. If she only knew how beautiful she was there would be no uncertainty in her eyes. She had no idea of the picture she presented—a goddess come to life. The vision before him was every man’s fantasy.

She was his, dammit!

She turned and presented her back. Oh, the lady was too clever. Her hair had been pulled up in a mass of curls atop her head and then left to trail down her back, making the deep V of the gown almost hidden. But every man at the ball would be straining his neck to get a glimpse of what she had hidden under that glorious hair.

He was surely going to have to kill someone before the night ended.

With a gentle hand on her shoulder, he turned her to face him. “I knew you would look stunning in that gown, Claire. You steal my breath away, and I do mean that literally.”

She smiled. “Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.”

Not a chance in bloody hell. “The purpose of this night is for you to see what you have missed in your life.” He put a finger to her lips when she began to speak. “But I promise that unless you are dancing or wish me to the devil, I will not abandon you.”

She closed her eyes and sucked his finger into her mouth.

“Stop that or, I promise, you’ll go no further than my bed tonight.” He pulled his finger away before he slung her over his shoulder and made good on his words.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

Neither would he, but was saved from doing something foolish by the arrival of his mother.

“Oh, Claire, my dear, you look lovely. There will not be an eligible man at the ball who will not want an introduction.”

Chase gave serious consideration to following through on his threat to keep her in his bed tonight. It would keep her away from all the bloody men his mother was determined to introduce her to.

“What is the reason for this new habit of growling, Kensington? It is most unusual.”

He scowled at Lady Anne. Why had he thought it would be a good idea to ask her to chaperone Claire? As the carriage took them along the streets of Mayfair, he couldn’t take his gaze away from Claire. How was he going to bear watching men vie for her attention?

“I haven’t been able to decide whether to claim your first waltz, Claire, or the supper dance, so, I’m claiming both.”

Lady Anne gave him a knowing smirk. “You do understand that by doing so, you will be announcing your interest in her.”

Was that his intention? He had told himself he would give her two weeks, and he shouldn’t be putting a do not touch sign on her on her first night out—even if he did want to paint
mine
in capital letters all over her.

“I know,” he said tersely.

“Why is that?” Claire asked.

“Because, dear, one dance is just a dance, but two means he is courting you.”

“I’m so ignorant of the rules.” She grabbed Lady Anne’s hand. “Please, don’t leave me alone tonight.”

“How easily I’ve been replaced,” Chase teased. “It wasn’t ten minutes ago you were begging me to stay by your side.”

****

Chase claimed his waltz and for the first time since arriving, Claire relaxed. Swirling around the dance floor in his arms, all she felt was him, his gloved hand on the small of her back, his other hand holding hers. All she saw was him, and all she could think was how beautiful he was in his formal dress. Of course, he was beautiful without a stitch of clothing, also.

“What has you smiling so mysteriously?” he asked.

She shouldn’t tell him, but she did. “I was trying to decide whether I preferred you dressed as you are tonight or not dressed at all.”

His eyes turned dark and hungry. “You’re courting danger, love. I haven’t been able to touch you like I have wanted for a week, and my self-control is precarious at best. I may forget myself and kiss you.”

“I’m counting on it, my lord.”

He twirled her off the dance floor and was steering her toward the French doors to the balcony when Lady Anne stepped in front of them. “Going somewhere, Kensington?” Lady Anne asked.

Claire blushed guiltily.

“It’s stifling in this crush, and I thought to get some fresh air,” Chase said.

Lady Anne waved her hand toward the balcony. “Be my guest, but Claire stays with me.”

He leaned toward Lady Anne. “You are an evil woman, Mama.”

His hand pressed against Claire’s back. Was he as disappointed as she to have been stopped from stealing a few minutes alone?

“I’ll come to you for the supper dance,” he said and walked out the French doors.

Claire envied the fresh air he was breathing. It really was stifling in the ballroom with so many people crowded together and all the candles burning. Lady Anne had told her earlier that a crush was a good thing for the hostess, but other than dancing with Chase, she didn’t see the appeal. She would much rather be at Hillcrest Abbey with Chase, the twins and her horses.

“Your partner for the next dance is Lord Summerton. He’s a viscount and has twenty thousand pounds a year so he’s considered a good catch. Especially if you like dogs, which is all he can talk about.” Lady Anne leaned close and whispered. “I have it on good authority he wears a corset and his coats are padded.”