A Most Delicate Pursuit (16 page)

“We had a most disappointing day in the forest, wouldn't you say, Michael? One would think that you didn't really have your mind on the hunt, now, would they?”

Michael, who'd just put a glass of wine to his mouth, coughed. “If one didn't have the manners of a goat, one wouldn't ask, now, would one?”

It was all Bea could do to keep from laughing out loud. Instead, she slipped her hand from the table to her lap and then very slowly leaned toward Michael, giving his knee a squeeze. He sent her a warning expression, his eye speaking volumes of what he planned to do to her later.

Unfortunately, all the fun of the evening disappeared when the doors leading to the great hall opened and an uninvited guest strolled in.

“Hello, everyone.” Lady Merriweather stepped into the room. “It looks like someone's hosting a party and no one invited me.”

Dressed in a black silk gown with silver threads sewn about the throat and beneath her breasts, Constance wore her hair in an intricate braid around the top of her head, her eyes outlined in charcoal and her lips painted a very provocative red. A Grecian goddess, she immediately commanded the attention of every man in the room. The two older hunters, Lord Manley and Sir Tommel, fairly fell over themselves to pull out empty chairs beside them. Of course Michael and Braden stood up, but neither one looked too happy about it.

“Lady Merriweather,” Michael said, “I apologize for not informing you of dinner. I'd thought you'd left Slyddon this afternoon.”

“Silly man, so busy with your entertainments, you neglect your hosting duties. Good thing I'm so fond of you or I'd be very cross.”

Bea felt the joy drain right out of her. The woman was positively ruthless. If her crass behavior had not demonstrated it before, she certainly made a show of it at that moment.

“Lady Merriweather.” Bea nodded, suddenly feeling like the wilted flower in the room.

“Miss Hawkins. It's always a pleasure to see you.” She turned to Michael, at the same time dismissing Bea, and, taking hold of his arm, leaned in for a kiss.

Bea was delighted when he pushed her away, taking her hand from his and dropping it beside her. “Forgive me, Lady Merriweather. I suppose now is as good a time as any to announce that I have this day entered into an agreement with Beatrice. As soon as Ash arrives with a license, she and I are to be married.”

Cheers went around the room and Bea nodded as congratulations were given out. “Thank you all. Please, I don't wish to postpone your dining any longer.” She motioned for the servers to come forward.

Michael turned to Lady Merriweather. “Connie, do take a seat or leave, whichever you prefer.”

She looked at him a moment, her smile never changing, but her gaze stuck on Michael for a moment longer than it should have. When she spoke, she didn't look away but remained stone still.

“My Lord Waverton,” she said to Braden, “if you'd be so kind as to accommodate me. I'd like to sit next to Lord Bladen. I believe it may very well be the last time we shall dine at the same table.”

Braden and Michael exchanged glances, and the other man stood, bowed low, and pulled his chair out for Lady Merriweather.

“Thank you,” she said, walking around behind Michael to sit at his left.

The other gentlemen at the table moved to accommodate Braden as well. In a few minutes the dinner began, as did the dinner conversation. Stories of hunting escapades and Old Walter went around the room. All went well until Lady Merriweather leaned toward Michael.

“Tell me, dearest, will you be returning to London soon? With the beginning of the season looming, I'm sure this will be the social whirl of the century.”

“To be honest,” Michael said, turning to Bea, “I dread the social crush. Large parties have never been my idea of an enjoyable evening.”

“Nonsense.” Lady Merriweather laughed. “I can remember when you were the toast of the party. You drank as much champagne as all of the men combined. It was a small gathering with say, thirty or forty of the haut ton. Michael was losing terribly at the faro table. We'd been playing for articles of clothing. Let's just say the only person at the table worse at cards than Michael was me.”

Bea sat quietly, doing her best not to let her emotions show on her face, though a fast boil of anger was forming in her gut.

“I assure you, that was more a result of Lord Fentle's barrel whiskey than my own enjoyment.”

“It's understandable,” Bea said. “You were just back from Spain, weren't you?”

Michael sent her an apologetic glance. “Not one of my shining moments. But that was, what, three years ago?”

“Oh, was it that long? I thought it was more recent than that.” She waved her hand. “Ah, Michael and I spent so many nights together that I can hardly tell one from the next, you know. Many was the time we watched the sun come up in Mayfair.”

“Connie, I see no need to dredge up the past,” Michael began. “Much of which I hardly remember.”

Beatrice put her hand on his. “Which is why we need to concentrate on our future together.” She sent a pointed look toward Lady Merriweather.

The other woman laughed. “Oh, my dear. You are so optimistic. I find that very sweet. But our Michael here has quite a voracious appetite when it comes to enjoying the more mature entertainments.” She waved to the butler. “Another glass of wine, please.”

She held up her glass but Michael grabbed it at the stem. “I believe you've had enough. In fact, since you'll be leaving quite early in the morning, I think it would be wise to retire early. The sooner, the better.”

Bea watched as the two sat staring at each other, both holding the wineglass and neither one looking as if they were about to let go.

“Lady Merriweather,” Braden said, standing and offering her his hand. “If you would allow me the pleasure, I would love to escort you to your room. I was thinking of retiring early myself.”

Only then did she break her focus on Michael and look at Braden as if he were a bowl of spoiled milk.

“Thank you, sir. I suppose the fare here has cooled quite a bit.”

Bea watched as she said her goodbyes to the rest of the guests. Then she turned to Michael.

He stood, as did the other men. “I'll see to it that your carriage is ready to depart at dawn. Good night.”

She took a step closer and held out her hand for him to take, and when he did not, her brittle smile thinned into a straight line. “It doesn't matter, Michael. You can be as ill-mannered as you choose. But, no matter what, if you find yourself alone later, I'll leave the door unlatched. As always, when others cast you off, I'll be ready.”

Bea choked. How dare the woman? It was all she could do to keep from putting the woman out herself. Instead, she stood as well. “That's most kind of you, Lady Merriweather, but I assure you. Our Michael need never fear of being alone again.”

The other woman huffed. “My, aren't we the most endearing couple.”

Bea watched as she took Braden's arm and let him lead her out of the room. She walked in a slow, seductive sashay, only glancing once at Michael as she passed him.

Michael stiffened beside her and Bea could feel the waves of hot anger that rolled off of him.

As if an alarm had sounded, the other men at the table muttered their good nights and filed out of the room until no one but Michael and Bea remained. He let out a breath and his shoulders slumped forward.

“Michael,” she started, but he turned back to her, holding his hand up.

“Please, let me apologize. There is no excuse I can give you for my alliance with that woman. I never considered her to be more than a passing interest, you know. I was quite alone and she was a distraction.”

“You've no need to apologize. We all have things we regret. And she is a most unlikable woman.”

“On that, I agree.”

Michael pulled her into his arms and she stepped up to kiss him. “Well,” she began. “There must be something we can do to ‘entertain' ourselves.”

Bending down, he slipped his arm beneath her bottom and picked her up, holding her like a child.

“I do believe we could come up with something to do…”

Two mornings later, Bea awoke to the lodge coming to life around them. In the yard, the hounds had begun a howling welcome to the newest arrival. The sounds of shouting men and neighing horses soon joined in. It was curious since the lodge had emptied out the day before. The weekend hunters had moved on, and thankfully Lady Merriweather had gone to roost.

“Oh, dear heavens,” Bea shouted over the din. “What in blazes is that all about?” She slid out of bed and grabbed her robe. Rushing to the window, she startled when Michael, wearing only his unbuttoned nightshirt, was instantly beside her. Though they'd been inseparable since his return from hunting, it still surprised her to find him so near.

“I believe the duke has arrived at last.” He grinned and pulled Bea into his arms and kissed her deeply. “Come, my sweet girl, there's much to do.”

Without saying another word, he bounded, half naked, from the room into the hall, bellowing for the staff to attend them.

Still recovering from his kiss, Bea stood still for a moment longer. Dear gods, she thought, once again he'd totally unsettled her. Would it always be like this?

Her thoughts were interrupted when Lizzie appeared, cherry faced and arms laden with her fresh linen, ribbons, brushes, and whatnot.

“Good morning, ma'am. Himself says to get you ready right away.”

Bea chuckled. “Of course, himself does. Very well, we'd best be about it. If I'm not mistaken, I believe today will be my wedding day.”

“Oh, miss!” Lizzie clapped her hands together. “Yes, miss. Right away.”

“Well, it's about bloody well time.” Ash's voice boomed in the great hall.

“Ash!” Caro shushed him. “Please, lower your voice. There might be more people sleeping in the county.”

“Caro?” Bea couldn't believe it. “It's so good to see you!”

“And, you as well, Beatrice,” Ash said beside her. “It looks as though you've managed to arrive in good condition.”

Bea laughed. “A true wonder, considering the perilous journey we took to get here.”

“Michael told us, dear. How terrible it must have been.”

Just then Michael appeared at the door.

“Well,” Bea said, feeling her face heat up, “it wasn't all bad.”

“I agree,” he said, as he moved to stand beside her. “More than that, Bea and I wanted to share our happy news with you. Beatrice has offered for me and I've accepted.”

“At last,” Ash said, clapping his friend on the back. “I'd hoped the two of you came to your senses. Good show.”

“Thank you, Ash. Now, as to the wedding plans…”

Bea's brother-in-law reached into his suit pocket. “I've already obtained the special license.”

Caro clasped her hands together. “We've already visited with the local vicar before our arrival this morning. Everyone is set. Ash insisted that we have the service this evening. I hope you don't mind.”

Bea turned to Michael. “That's rather soon, isn't it?”

“I wish that we had the luxury of taking our time, Beatrice,” he told her, pulling her into his arms, “but Bainbridge has not shown his face as yet, and if we mean to put down his effort to take you, we must do it now.”

“Of course,” she said. “Then we should get to the preparations.”

Michael bent forward and gave her a gentle kiss. “Not long and you'll be forever out of his reach.”

“Thank you,” she said, still reeling from the combination of his kiss and the knowledge that soon she would be a married woman.

“I'm so happy for you,” Caro said, pulling Bea into her arms. “Finally, you shall be as happy as I am.”

Bea smiled. “He's a good man,” she said. “I never thought he would even consider marrying at all, let alone choosing me for his wife.”

“Why wouldn't he? You're a wonderful woman and he's quite fortunate to have you. Now, because Ash was so certain there was going to be a wedding, he had me pack an entire wardrobe for you. And I've brought Mrs. Stubbs, Amelia's mantua maker. She'll have to work all afternoon to finish the alterations once you choose the gown you want to wear. Oh, and there's my maid, Mildred, who will arrange your hair…”

Bea took her sister's arm and walked with her, listening to her chattering on. For the first time in what seemed like ages, her heart felt light.

She was only hours away from her destiny.

Michael watched Beatrice leave with her sister. The two were talking so fast, it was difficult to tell where one conversation ended and another one began. The mood was light and the air fairly crackled with excitement. In all his life, Michael had never known such happiness. In but a few hours he would be a married man, and though he feared he might make a mess of it all, he knew he couldn't help but try. He loved Beatrice too much not to try.

“I've gotten some information about Bainbridge from my men on the coast.”

Even the mention of the man's name seemed to darken the room around them. “Oh? What is the devil up to now?”

“I've heard that he has a secluded cove about twenty miles from Portsmouth. Suspicions are that he's moving illegal goods through there and has been doing so for years.”

“That would explain his deep bank accounts.”

“And his influence in Parliament.”

“So what are you going to do?” Michael asked, his gaze moving to where Beatrice had been standing. “Are you going after him?”

“As soon as I can garner support at the home office. But, it's difficult to know which ones are in his pockets and which ones we can trust.”

“So chances are it'll be a long campaign.” That thought didn't set well with him. “I'll have to stay alert and do what I must to keep her safe.”