At the Earl's Convenience (2 page)

Selina frowned up at him. “I am not, I assure you.”

“Then please accept my belated birthday wishes. May I join you?”

“It would be rude of me to refuse you, Lord Halcrow.”

“Did I not ask you to call me Devereux the last time we met?”

With a smile, he sat beside her on the small settee, causing her ribcage to tighten with nerves. She wanted him to go away, but then she’d be sorry to see him go. She didn’t seem to know her own mind where he was concerned. She took a sip from her glass to distract herself.

He eyed her glass. “I thought you hated Madeira.”

“I do.” Such was his disarming charm that he remembered such details.

“Allow me to get you a glass of wine.”

“I would be grateful, thank you.” As there was no waiter in the vicinity, she hoped he might go in search of one and allow her to gain her breath.

Devereux raised his hand, and a waiter appeared out of nowhere. When the man rushed off to comply with his order, he fixed her with his blue-eyed stare. She fought not to wriggle.

“You look well tonight.”

“Thank you. As do you.” She sensed his polite comment came with reservations. She had no such misgivings about him. He was, as usual, impeccable. While other men favored short, artfully windswept locks, his long golden hair was tied with a black velvet ribbon. It was like him to defy the popular mode of dress. He wore a black suit with an emerald pin in his white cravat. His coat needed no buckram padding at the shoulder and fit tightly against his slim waist. He stood out in the crowd, a blond devil, no doubt secure in the knowledge that women would fall under his spell with just a crook of his little finger. Well, if he was about to crook his finger at her, she would… She admitted she was not entirely sure of what she’d do, as she struggled to be indifferent to his charms. Annoyingly, her heart didn’t seem to be listening.

“I don’t like that pallid color on you, though,” he said. “It’s entirely the wrong green.”

With a sharp intake of breath, she smoothed the skirts of her white muslin gown, woven and trimmed with celery green. “Should I hurry home and change?”

A gleam lit his eyes. “I’m inclined to blunt speaking. I do apologize.”

Reproachful, she drew her brows together. He wasn’t sorry in the least.

“You should wear colors that enhance your eyes,” he continued, ignoring her daunting expression. He fingered the jewel pin in amongst the folds of his silky cravat. “This green, emerald.”

She choked at the effect wearing that color would have on the assembled crowd. “Look around you, my lord. Unmarried ladies wear white.”

“Insipid colors for the virginal.” He shook his head. “We English are eager to adopt French fashion, but because of our tight-laced moral standards, we make a mess of it.” The wicked gleam returned, the deep blue of his eyes trapping her. “I have an excellent plan that will take care of both these problems.”

Selina gasped and glanced around. “I refuse to listen to it, my lord. You are not to be encouraged. You’ll ruin my reputation. It doesn’t matter about yours; I suspect it’s already lost.”

He grinned. “You’ve heard then?”

“I heard you’d left the army.”

“I can’t talk to you here. Come outside where no one will overhear us.”

“I will most certainly do nothing of the kind!”

He placed a hand on her arm. “Curse it, Selina. I will behave myself. I give you my word. I
must
talk to you.”

She hesitated. It wouldn’t do to be seen shrugging him off, and he obviously wouldn’t go quietly. “I shall give you five minutes, but I can’t imagine anything of import you might have to tell me. We’ve said it all before.”

Outside, another couple strolled the length of the colonnade, enjoying the warm evening. Strains of the “Sussex Waltz” with flute and violin floated through the open doorway. Lit by lamplight, Devereux was classically handsome; his fine features bore the stamp of aristocratic breeding, his blue eyes capable of a seductive glance that rendered a woman weak in the knees. It was indecent for a man to be so good looking. He leaned against a stone column beside her with a casual grace that never seemed to desert him.

“Now isn’t this agreeable?” He gestured toward the flowering magnolia perfuming the air. His gaze held her in thrall. The moment should have been breathtakingly romantic, and for a brief moment, it was.

“Selina, as I’ve told you, I need to marry for money.”

“I must go back inside. My absence will be noticed.” She turned away. His bald statement was no surprise, but she still felt as if he’d grasped her heart and squeezed it.

Devereux reached out and stopped her, taking her arm, his touch burning into the flesh between her glove and capped sleeve. “Stay,” he said softly. “Don’t run off. I know I’m too direct. I can’t embroider, make it sound poetical. Not for you. Don’t know why. Perhaps it’s because you’re smart and you never dissemble.”

“That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me,” she said dryly.

He gave a deep chuckle.

She firmed her lips. His laugh was low and infectious. If she weren’t so hurt, she would laugh with him.

When he turned her shoulders, his big hands were gentle. He searched her face in the lamplight. “I have to confess to little desire to marry. Don’t doubt I will make a very poor husband. In my defense, I’ll never be consciously cruel to you and can offer you a title that goes back to the Saxon wars. And, by way of consolation, I like you.”

“And
desire
my fortune.”

He stiffened as if she’d struck him, and then he nodded. “Halcrow Hall falls into disrepair; its lands lie fallow. I can’t afford to make repairs. My great-great-grandfather lost a considerable amount of money when his ships were sunk during England’s war against Spain. Another gambled much that was left away. My father had no head for business, and the family fortunes have been dashed on the rocks ever since. I can’t bear to watch Halcrow sink into the ground, Selina. I believe I do have a head for business, given half a chance. If I had funds, I could put the estate to rights and improve the lot of my tenants.” He rubbed the back of his neck. “It’s my heartfelt desire to return the estate to the magnificence it once enjoyed.”

She drew breath at the fire and passion brightening his eyes. His hunger wasn’t for her, but she still found herself helplessly caught up by it. Her resolve and her common sense began to give way like a fortress under siege. “You intend to devote your life to restoring the mansion and its lands?”

“I first must pay off my father’s creditors.” His humble tone surprised her. “As you know, I’ve sold out of the army, and I’m running out of time.”

“Why leave while England is at war?”

A flash of humor crossed his face. “I turned twenty-nine and want to live beyond thirty.”

“And General Wellington agreed?”

“He appreciates my need for an heir. So here I am.”

The thought of giving him an heir was her undoing. A blond son like him. Perhaps a baby would prove to be ample compensation for not having his love. His eyes searched hers for a sign that she wavered. She stiffened her shoulders. “Why me? There are other heiresses. Pretty ones.”

“I’ll be damned if I’ll get leg-shackled to a shallow bore or a long-nosed, humorless wench.” He opened his eyes wide in alarm. “Or a bluestocking!”

She laughed. “Not all of them, surely.”

He shook his head. “I’ve looked them all over, believe me. You’re the only one I would consider spending the rest of my life with.”

“Well, at least you don’t pay me Spanish coin.”

He grinned. “And men do?”

“I have had my fill of suitors. My sister Anne is determined to have me married before the year is out.”

He leaned close and lowered his voice to a husky whisper, his eyes capturing hers. “Then marry me, Selina. Say you will.”

She chewed her bottom lip. She hadn’t expected him to ask her again. Anne didn’t like him, but that might be because he would take Selina away from Bath. But she couldn’t be expected to keep refusing him, she thought crossly. She was only flesh and blood after all. Few women on earth could resist the pleas of a man such as Devereux. The last of the fortifications around her heart gave way. “We might arrange a marriage of convenience of sorts, I suppose,” she said cautiously.

It would certainly rid her of fortune hunters and provide her with a home of her own, even if the property wasn’t in the best of repair. She refused to consider what her real reason might be, to see his face at breakfast every morning. A horrid thought struck her. Would she be replacing her tidy, organized life for one of disorder and heartbreak?

“Don’t think I’ll live with you without the pleasures of the marriage bed,” he warned, breaking into her thoughts.

“Oh! Do hush, my lord.” She glanced around, her face burning. Another couple stood not far away but seemed engrossed in their own conversation.

“I wanted to make that plain.”

She suppressed a shiver of anticipation as his strong, agile body leaned toward her. She found herself wondering what he looked like naked, the feel of his skin, the muscles and bones beneath. The tautness of a male body against the softness of hers. She grew warm and swallowed. “Then you must ask me properly.” Had she gone mad? This was a recipe for a broken heart if ever there was one.

When Devereux sank down on one knee before her, an exclamation of delight came from the woman promenading with her partner.

If only you knew
, Selina thought.

“Miss Wakefield, will you do me the honor of becoming my wife?” he asked in a throbbing accent, which made her want to giggle. “I shall cherish you all your life. Should dissipation not carry me off before you,” he added with a wicked grin.

She hadn’t expected the powerful emotions that swept through her; he’d stirred her passion and her sense of adventure, but he also caused deep misgivings. “I accept. But please do rise, my lord, before we become a spectacle and have the gossips chattering for months.”

“I doubt we can avoid it. I have to warn you there are some who are critical of me, and they will disapprove of you too, as my wife.”

“I don’t seek approval.” She gave a tiny shrug. She was curious though. “Is it because you’ve resigned your commission?”

“This is something for another time, perhaps. We don’t want to spoil the moment.” He slipped an arm around her shoulders and raised her chin with a finger, his musky male scent enveloping her. “Let’s seal the promise.” He brought his mouth down on hers before she could protest, probing the cavern of her mouth with his tongue and rendering her shocked and breathless.

“Oh! That’s
so
romantic,” the lady said to her companion.

Devereux drew away, looking annoyingly smug.

Selina held on to his arm for support. “You promised to behave,” she said shakily when she could find her voice.

“According to my standards, I am,” he said in a silky voice. “You didn’t stipulate.”

Chapter Two

It suited Giles to marry in Bath. A grand ceremony held at St. Georges, Hanover Square, would have created far too much attention. As no announcement was to appear in the London newspapers, he was as confident as he could be that his marriage would escape the
ton’s
notice, whilst most were heading for their country estates. It was the best way to protect his wife until he was in a better position. He’d ignored the advice to remain single; a man had to listen to his instincts, which had served him well to date.

Giles was well pleased with his choice. He hadn’t looked for a love match. Instead, he’d sought an independent woman with strong opinions, able to stand on her own two feet should she have to. Right now, that chance was unfortunately quite high. And he liked Selina. She fitted his requirements perfectly. Arranged marriages were often successful, and this one began with promise. As long as the fates were kind, he would keep his end of the bargain.

****

“Are you sure you are doing the right thing, dearest?” Anne asked again. “Some of Halcrow’s exploits Harry’s told me about, I couldn’t repeat to you. He sounds shockingly loose in the haft.”

Her sister had asked Selina this question repeatedly since the bans were first read in church three weeks ago. That Devereux was known to have vices and scant respect for proprieties came as no surprise to her. “Don’t tell me he has killed someone in a duel?”

“No nothing like that, but there are”—her voice grew faint—“inamoratas, I believe they’re called.”

“He’s a single man, Anne. At least they aren’t Haymarket ware.”

“Selina! Where do you hear these things?”

“I read, my dear sister.”

“I’m cross with Harry for giving you unsuitable books for an unmarried lady!”

Selina patted her shoulder. “I didn’t have to read them. Please don’t blame your husband for my impropriety.”

“The Hussars are known to be fearfully wild.” Anne turned a worried face toward her. “Some men can’t be tamed, Sel, perhaps it’s bad family blood.”

She gave Anne the same answer she’d given her every time they’d had this conversation. “I just know he’s the only man I’ll ever love.” But he didn’t love her. The thought still made her draw breath. She’d accepted the situation, had she not? Or did heartbreak lie ahead?