A Rag-mannered Rogue (23 page)

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Authors: Hayley A. Solomon

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“Coxcomb!” But Tessie's eyes were bright with happiness.
“Shrew! By the bye, how many gowns did you think you needed?”
Tessie gasped. “They were for
me?”
“Of course. What other young lady is precisely the same measurements, height, tastes . . . oh, you
must
have known!”
“Not a thing, only that your bride had consumption.”
“Consumption?”
Now it was Nick's turn to stare.
“Yes. Consumption. Your mama, I am sorry to say, is a most undiscriminating liar!”
“But an extraordinarily
bad
one if that is all she could come up with! You look dreadfully woebegone, as usual, all covered in grime and hatless, but to say you are consumptive. . . well, now, that is the outside of enough! You are beautiful, a rarity, my brave little Tessie!”
“Could you possibly tell me the bit about loving me again?”
Nick grinned. “I suppose I shall have to get used to saying it a dozen times a day! If I don't, Joseph shall leave my service, Mama will have my hide, and a brood of nosy sisters will pester on about it in countless letters that I have to frank—”
“Gracious! They didn't!”
“They did indeed. Apparently, you have stolen many a heart, Miss Theresa Hampstead!”
“Only yours.”
“Stuff and nonsense! What about Christopher Lambert? What about poor Lord Alberkirky? He shall be our best man, by the way. Recommended to me a very interesting stable for sale. Had to forgive him, after that.”
Tessie's eyes grew wide, “A stable?”
“Yes, close to the village of Greenford. Hampstead Oaks, you know.”
“You bought my stables?”
“Indeed. A wedding gift to you. Pebbles is already safely installed at my London residence. I infer your silence is happiness, not outrage?”
Tessie laughed. “How could it be? When it is the most thoughtful, glorious gift ever! I could hardly bear thinking of losing those horses. It has been a sad time.”
“It shall not be anymore. You shall have your presentation at Carlton House, and I have been meddling, I am afraid.”
“Meddling?”
“That is why I took so long to chase after you, my little baggage. I have been meddling in your affairs. Hampstead Oaks should be restored to its former glory by the summer. I met most of your tenants and dismissed Lawson, your land agent. I cannot
swear
he was stealing your profits but I suspect it. He was also consuming far too liberally of your grandfather's best burgundy when I came upon him.”
“I hope you grabbed a couple of bottles for yourself, then. Excellent stuff!”
“You may gift them to me. I do not
grab
, Miss Hampstead.”
What a pity, thought Tessie as she batted her lashes like a hopeless little hoyden. Nicholas's eyes sparkled, but he said nothing, merely pushing her back gently into the soil.
“My ensemble must be quite a sight!”
“It always is, Miss Hampstead! Thank God Mama did not stint on your wardrobe. The future Countess Cathgar must be impeccable, you know.”
Tessie groaned. “Oh, my God, it will take me a century to finish those clothes! I have lost more blood pricking myself with pins than I ever did out hunting, or shooting, or fishing, even, with Grandfather!”
Nicholas laughed, then kissed her nose, which she found very pleasant indeed.
“That shall naturally have to be remedied, of course.”
“How?” Tessie was curious but not particularly worried. The only thing that worried her just then was that Nick's arm was free rather than cradling the nape of her neck. She rectified this situation boldly, which caused the earl to grin rather wickedly. She liked that grin—it suited his scar.
“How?” Nicholas echoed her. He traced his fingers over her lips. “How very elementary, my dear Theresa! We shall consign the whole goddamn lot to Madame Fanchon!”
To which Miss Tessie made no further comment other than to mention accessories like bonnets.
“Milliners,” murmured Nick.
“Gloves.”
“God, I don't know! Miss Peeples of Bond Street! Now let me kiss you quiet, for heaven's sake, and don't you dare mention fans, lace, clocked stockings, or corsetry to me again. You shall have them all.”
Nick punctuated this remark with a gesture that Tessie found quite extraordinarily pleasant, though she was sure it was one Finchie—dear old Finchie, who was now Mrs. Moreton—would disapprove.
She mentioned this, between sighs of bliss, to her betrothed.
Nicholas nodded. “She is very right. It gets wickeder yet, I am afraid. You need a chaperone.”
“No, I don't!”
“Yes, you do!”
“I do not, I tell you!”
Lord Nicholas Cathgar attempted something very salacious indeed. Tessie gasped, then blushed furiously. Nick, his breathing somewhat harder, looked smug.
“I am right, am I not?”
“Damn you, yes, but only until I am safely wed, and only because you are, you are . . .”
“A rag-mannered rogue?”
“I was going to say too devastatingly magnificent for your own good, but rag-mannered will do me fine.”
Nick laughed. “Let me help you out of this ditch. I have a better idea.”
“Better than a chaperone?”
“Much better.”
“You are not going to be all horribly . . .
chivalrous,
are you?”
“Certainly not! I have not waited all this time in direst agony to be chaste, my dear Miss Tessie!”
“What,
then?”
“We are going straight back to the huntsman's cottage.”
“To the villain?”
“No, to Cal.”
“To Cal?”
Tessie could do nothing more but echo the earl dumbly. She had no notion whatsoever about what he was on about.
“Yes. He should be arriving back soon. With the magistrate.”
And still Miss Hampstead, renowned for her quick wit, eyed her love blankly.
“What a goose you are, Tessie! It is taking you an age to figure out what I figured in just a minute!”
“If you do not stop talking in riddles, my lord, I shall not answer for the consequences.”
“Ah, that hot little temper of yours. I must learn to mind it. The point, my love, is that Cal is returning with Mr. Townsend.”
“Yes?”
“I do not believe he will think it amiss, my love, to marry us. After all, you are ruined again. You are out with a gentleman—and might I say, a notorious rake—past dark. There is hardly even a moon to redeem you.”
“How humbling. You say he will
marry
us?”
“I do not see why not. I posted the banns the day I paid you your wretched ten thousand pounds.”
Tessie gasped. “Nicholas Cathgar, you are the outside of enough!”
But Nicholas only laughed. He had grown used, he thought, to Tessie's scolding. Fortunately, he thought he knew quite precisely how to silence her. He tested out his theory almost at once.
The silence grew wonderfully,
scandalously
long. Nicholas Cathgar, as always, had been perfectly right.
ZEBRA BOOKS are published by
 
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Copyright © 2002 by Hayley Ann Solomon
 
All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced in any form or by any means without the prior written consent of the Publisher, excepting brief quotes used in reviews.
 
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ISBN: 9781420131840

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