Twice a Rake (44 page)

All except Sir Jonas and Nia.

Indeed, more than a quarter of an hour passed after the rest of the hunters had returned, including Lord Norcutt in dry attire, before those two made their reappearance: she looking shame-faced, and he looking angry. Oh, dear. She wished they would simply accept the fact that they were destined to be together. Aurora couldn’t imagine a more perfect match. However, it seemed that couples Aurora found herself intent upon putting together tended to find themselves intent upon staying apart.

Perhaps she ought to stop trying, altogether.

She likely wouldn’t.

But for the moment, she had a puppy asleep on her lap, and far more to worry about than the mistakes others chose to make.

Chapter Twenty-Five

26 June, 1811

I give up. I tried to match Rebecca with Lord Tucker Flynn, as I thought they would suit. Rebecca then affianced herself to Lord Norcutt. Lord Tucker seems all too inclined to chase after Miss Vivian Osbourne’s skirts, though for the life of me I cannot imagine why a handsome, virile, and engaging man such as himself would want to associate himself with a chit hardly out of the schoolroom. And while it is quite obvious to
me
that Nia and Sir Jonas have far more than a simple attraction between them, they are both far more inclined to ignore each others’ existence. They ought to listen to me, every one of them. But since they refuse, I’ll leave them to their own devices at tonight’s ball. In the meantime, I have decided it is best to focus my attentions elsewhere. Such as naming my puppy. I rather like the name Zeus, but Quin claims that is far too important a name. He prefers Thief, since the pup likes to steal the position in bed Quin believes to be his. We’ll have to find a compromise eventually.

~From the journal of Lady Quinton

“Would it be terribly gauche of me to allow Zeus to join us at the ball?” Aurora asked from where she sat while her lady’s maid dressed her hair.

Zeus
. She couldn’t name the blasted puppy after a god, for Christ’s sake. Least of all the most formidable of all the Greek gods. Quin had given her the hound because he thought it might make her happy—somewhat as a peace offering for the brutish way he’d treated her when they first married—but he never imagined she’d coddle it quite the way she had been.

Not that he minded. It was rather endearing, actually. If she was this head-over-ears in love with a pup after less than two full days, he could only imagine how she would be once their baby was born. Or how it would be if she loved him half as much as she loved the dog. He had to admit, he was more than only slightly jealous.

“I do not think any of our guests would think you gauche or ill-mannered for such a thing, Aurora, particularly since all of the ladies seem to be of one mind where
Thief
is concerned. But what will you do if he decides to relieve himself on Lady Aylesbury again? Her Grace may have been willing to forgive once, but if he destroys a ball gown? Not as likely.”

“
Zeus
has made great strides in that area today, actually,” she retorted. “We only found three messes in the salon all day.”

“Only three?” he replied with more than a small dose of skepticism. The pup was too young to have control over his needs yet.

“And two more in the refectory. Perhaps another in the gallery.”

He laughed. “Perhaps?”

“Yes, perhaps. But you must admit that is far better than the dozen or more accidents he had yesterday.”

Her desperation to convince him of the dog’s improvement was his own fault. Just last night, Quin had threatened to put Thief in a baby’s nappy after stepping in an unexpected pile in his office. Which, of course, meant more work for his valet in preparation for tonight’s ball, since it had smeared all over his Hessians.

But he never would have done it. One can’t keep a dog in a nappy, after all. One must simply teach the dog what to do and where to do it. “Yes, the dog has made great strides. Perhaps he will only need to wear the nappy for six months,” he said with a smile, earning an annoyed swat from his wife’s fan.

Her lady’s maid stepped away just then, smiling at the work she’d done with Aurora’s coiffure. Quin wasn’t sure what to make of it. It looked lovely, to be sure. But she looked lovely with it falling about her shoulders in waves, or pulled into a simple chignon at the nape of her neck, or a multitude of other ways. He couldn’t understand the need to spend so much time on the task.

“Are you ready now?” he asked. “We should head down to the ballroom. It is time for our guests to begin arriving, so we should be there to form the receiving line.”

She nodded and took his arm. They made their way through the winding hallways of the abbey, down a stair and into the grand foyer. Every flower in the county had to have been somehow collected in his home. Quin hadn’t seen the like at Quinton Abbey since before Mercy died, when joy still resided here.

But there would be joy here again. Tonight, in fact. And if he hadn’t been so intent on achieving misery, perhaps he could have enjoyed more of the past fortnight. Aurora was doing everything in her power to provide him with all that had been lacking in his life, and if he would quit fighting against her so much, perhaps he could experience a bit of it.

Forster directed them to the entry of the ballroom, which fairly glimmered in the wash of candlelight.

“The townspeople won’t believe their eyes,” Quin said to his wife. “You’ve more than outdone yourself with all of this.”

Aurora just smiled up at him and settled in to her place by his side. With his arm around her waist, Quin couldn’t help but think how perfectly she fit him, like they were truly made for each other.

Just before giving Forster the nod to begin allowing their guests entrance, Quin leaned down to whisper in Aurora’s ear, “Have I mentioned lately that I love you? Because I do. Love you, that is.” He really ought to tell her more often. That would be his new goal. He would make a point to tell her every day.

He gave Forster the signal, and the doors opened. In only moments, a line formed before them, filled with both the guests who had been in his home for the last fortnight and people he hadn’t seen since he was a small boy.

Aurora smiled up at him with such joy he thought the ice of his heart would melt into a puddle on the ballroom floor. “And I love you,” she whispered back.

He must have misheard her. She couldn’t have meant it.

But he had no opportunity to question her on the matter, as Norcutt was standing before him with Lady Rebecca on one arm and Lady Aylesbury on the other. It was time, once again, to play the dutiful host.

Within a half hour, the ballroom had filled to overflowing and more people were still trickling in. Not only were the twenty members of the house party all present and accounted for, but Aurora seemed to have invited everyone old enough to walk who lived within a ten mile radius.

Quin glanced down the receiving line to determine how much longer they might be rooted in place. What he saw nearly evaporated his newly-found joy.

Griffin.

And Phoebe, too, blast her.

The evening had just taken a decided turn for the worse. Quin wanted a brandy.

~ * ~

“Mr. Poole, I am so glad you’ve come this evening,” Quin said, taking the guest’s hand in his own. Something was wrong. Aurora heard it in the tone of his voice, in how it had suddenly gone from cordial to tense within the span of a moment. “I do apologize, but I must excuse myself.” Turning to Aurora, he said loud enough for only her to hear, “There is something I must attend to. Please continue doing what you’re doing. And no matter what happens, stay inside.”

He stepped back and away from her. She wanted to go with him—to find out what had happened. But a swarm of people still waited to be greeted and ushered inside, so she must stay put. But did he have to make whatever was happening sound so terribly ominous, like such a portent of evil and doom?

For only a moment, Aurora watched her husband stalk down the receiving line and out of sight before returning her attention to the guests before her. “Mrs. Poole, was it? So very nice to make your acquaintance, ma’am.”

“Oh, my lady,” the pretty red-headed woman before her gushed, “it is so very kind of you to issue an invitation to your home. Why, we haven’t ever been here other than to tour it once while his lordship was away on the continent. But to see it all alight with candles and adorned with flowers and fashionable people? I daresay I’ve died and gone to heaven.”

“Well, I hope you and your husband enjoy yourselves this evening,” Aurora responded. “Do be sure to come back for”

The crowd in line jostled forward, pushing into Mr. Poole’s back and cutting Aurora’s thoughts short. The young farmer protectively reached out his arms to encircle his wife.

“Outside!” Was that Quin’s voice? “Right this instant, Griffin. For that matter, you ought to join us too, Phoebe. I don’t recall inviting you into my home.”

Lord Griffin and Lady Phoebe? Aurora hadn’t sent them an invitation. She didn’t think Quin would feel too kindly about having his former fiancée in his home. And no matter what, Aurora didn’t want Griffin there. Not after what he’d put them through.

Oh, dear good Lord. Could he be the one behind these new stories that were surfacing? Of course he was. She ought to have known right from the start. She just hadn’t been thinking much about that, because of the baby and the house party, and so many other things going on in her mind.

She ought to have told Quin all along. To have trusted him to do what was right. But instead, she kept it quiet. To protect whom? Quin? Herself? The only person she had actually protected was Lord Griffin, the last person on earth who needed her protection.

Except he might just need it at the moment. The crowd convulsed toward her again, with dazed gasps and shouts mingling together in the cavernous hall. If they were to tussle, Quin was easily twice the man’s size. He could probably kill him with his bare hands, particularly after all those days spent boxing at Gentleman Jackson’s.

She had to put a stop to it. Right this instant.

Aurora pushed her way through a crowd that seemed to be moving in the opposite direction. Even though she was somewhat tall for a lady, many of the men still towered above her, and she couldn’t see how much further she had to go.

“Come with me,” Quin ground out.

Oh, dear good Lord. He sounded positively murderous. No matter how large or small the previous scandals swirling around the two of them had been, no matter how truthful or filled with lies they may have been, there would be no stemming the flow of damage if Quin murdered a man in front of a ballroom full of people. In his own home, no less.

She couldn’t let that happen. She had to talk some sense into him. Surely this could all be resolved in a civilized manner.

Just when she thought she was finally making some headway in coming through the crowd, it shifted directions. Now, they were surging her forward, almost like she was caught in the tide and being pulled out to sea.

The front doors were open and wave upon wave of people unfurled out into the open night air. Having the murder take place outside instead of inside would do nothing to quell the rumor-mill, as long as the crowd did not disperse.

“I am an invited guest,” Lord Griffin shouted over the din of murmurs. “This is how you would treat me?”

Aurora continued to push through the crush of bodies in an attempt to see what was happening. She finally reached a point where, looking between the shoulders of the two gentlemen in front of her, she could see Quin and Lady Phoebe, and on occasion Lord Griffin, though he was moving around quite a bit in the midst of the circle.