Darrington 01 - Marriage Minded Lord (5 page)

Throughout her speech,
Lord Swandon’s face reddened and his eyes roiled as she imagined an angry sea would look like. He cut her speech off with a gesture. “Enough, Miss Delacroix. In this matter, you and I are destined to be on opposite sides of opinion.”

Belatedly, Clarice realized he probably sat in Parliament
and she’d insulted him in one of the worst ways a person could. Her mouth fell slightly open. “My lord, I apologize—”

“Don’t
patronize me by apologizing for something you feel passionate about. We all have opinions. You are entitled to voice yours, but I do not need to agree.” He gave her a small bow from the waist. “I’m afraid I need to bid you adieu for the evening. The dinner was lovely as was the conversation. Thank you for making the effort.”

As quickly and silently as he arrived, he departed the kitchen. Clarice sagged against the wall with a hand pressed to her quaking stomach.
Merciful heavens, if I live to my next birthday despite my free speaking, it will be a miracle.
Lord Swandon was a handsome eyeful and an interesting conversationalist. Too bad she’d never see him again.

Chapter Three

Felix rattled his newspaper in the hopes his female relatives would take the hint he wished to dine in silence over luncheon. They did not. Instead, his mother and Charlotte prattled on about only God knew since Felix hadn’t paid them the slightest attention. He’d merely known the noise of said talk annoyed him to no end. When he folded down a corner of the paper and peered at his sister, who didn’t pause in her jabber, he cleared his throat.

“If you two insist on chattering away like birds, I shall ask Samuel to relocate my meal to a quieter setting.”

“We hardly sound like birds.” One of his mother’s eyebrows rose toward her hairline. When a lecture from Roberta was in the offing, that eyebrow would rise; the higher, the more irritated she was. “It’s Sunday morning, Felix my darling. What could you possibly be in a snit about this early? Did you not have fun at the musicale last evening?”

He snorted. Almost noon wasn’t early by any stretch of the imagination. “I’m not in a snit, Mother. As for last night’s entertainment, let’s just say it was all relative and there were a few
high moments.” Ever since he’d left the Drummond residence, he couldn’t forget the French woman’s food, the sound of her voice, her verve or daring, even though he’d left with a rather annoyed attitude.

“Ah, then you’ve found Lady Drummond worthy of your pursuit?”

“Perhaps.” Felix refused to commit to anything, especially to his mother. He didn’t want to spend time with Olivia overly much, but if he were in her house again, he might catch a glimpse of Miss Delacroix. Never had a woman captured his attention as much as the Frenchwoman, yet continuing down such a path would be sheer folly. His mother would give him a dressing down he wouldn’t soon forget, not to mention that the scandal he’d bring to his family name would be the talk of London—until the next one on someone else’s doorstep. Yet would the greater crime be in building up Olivia’s hopes when the probability of him actually choosing her to wed was almost nil?
Botheration. I should have stayed in the country.

His parent clapped her hands in evident glee. “I do hope you’ll hurry things along.”

He fought the urge to roll his eyes. “Don’t read too much into this, Mother. I refuse to take leave of my common sense merely to wed upon your dictate. I’m not certain Lady Drummond is a good match.”

“She’s as good as anyone else
, and it’s no secret she’s looking for a husband.”

“Mother.” A note of warning crept into his voice.

Roberta sniffed. “When have you ever followed one of my suggestions without argument?”

“Not now, Mother.”
Felix sighed. Some days he wondered what it must be like not to have family constantly underfoot, annoying him at every turn, questioning his every decision. “I simply wish to enjoy my paper and meal without the droning of pointless conversation interrupting me.”

“It’s not pointless.” Roberta selected a slice of ham steak from a tray bearing cold cuts and cheeses then laid the meat on a piece of baguette. In the strong midday light streaming through the windows, her hair gleamed auburn. If it weren’t for the streaks of gray glimmering in the coif, no one would guess she was in her mid-fifties, and with her still-bright hazel eyes, she was very much a vibrant fixture in London. “Your sister and I are discussing the merits of attending the Amherst rout in two weeks. The invitation arrived yesterday, for all three of us. Actually, it mentioned your other siblings as well, but they’ve yet to respond to my summons.”

Why is that?
His chest tightened with stress. Lucky devils they were indeed to stay away. If he wasn’t embroiled in problems here, he’d go fetch them himself. Felix methodically folded his paper as Roberta’s words sank into his consciousness. He laid the paper to the side of his plate and stared at his mother. “The Duke of Amherst? He’s never invited us to anything before.”

“Of course, dear. As if there is another Amherst of consequence in town at the moment.” Roberta grinned. “
The lateness of the invite could mean they’re short on numbers since Parliament and the upcoming holidays are a strain on social commitments, but I’m choosing to ignore that fact. It will be a prime function where Charlotte—or even you—can be seen amongst the
Ton
and perhaps catch someone’s eye.”

“Right. For one glorious second I’d thought you wanted your offspring to enjoy themselves while in London.” An image of a dark-haired woman with coffee-colored eyes and a smart mouth sprang into his mind. “However, I think attending
Amherst’s party would be in everyone’s best interest.” Something about the enigmatic touch of sadness he’d glimpsed in Miss Delacroix’s eyes urged him to find out more of her secrets—namely the lord who was allegedly her father. “Perhaps if I agree to this rout, you two will leave me alone for the remainder of the Season.” Then he’d have more time to contemplate how else he should wrangle another meeting with the mysterious Frenchwoman.

Charlotte, who sat beside him, turned and gazed upon him with a dancing blue gaze. “Do you mean it? You’ll accompany Mother and me?”

“Absolutely.” He adored his sister. From the roots of her dark red hair to the soles of her dainty feet, there wasn’t another female he held in such high esteem except his little sister, of course. Any woman he eventually agreed to leg shackle would need to pass inspection with Charlotte. “And may I say, perhaps you should wear that emerald satin or the light blue, silver-shot silk. It will set off your hair quite nicely and bring out your eyes.”

“What a delight you are today.”
Charlotte grinned. “Some say the Darrington blue eyes are my best feature.”

“That may be true, but your hair is quite magnificent
as is your fiery temper and your penchant for meddling in other people’s affairs of the heart.” He wanted to gag that he’d stooped so low as to discuss fashions and give his sibling obvious compliments. “Do you, ah, know who else is on the guest list for the Amherst affair?”

“I have no idea,” Charlotte admitted. “Perhaps Mother does.”

“I do not, but I could inquire if a specific lady is at the heart of your question.” His mother clucked across the table. “And may I say, this change in attitude on your part is suspect.” She cut a boiled egg into slices. Her hawk-like gaze bore into him. “What are you after? It’s not like you to willingly wish to squire either of us about, let alone encourage your sister to attend a specific function.”

Felix fought off
the warmth roiling over him. He took his time filling his plate with food, choosing instead to let his parent suffer in silence for a bit longer. Finally, he said, “I’ve decided to give some thought to your needs, Mother. Of course you want grandchildren, and me sitting around here when not in Parliament won’t accomplish that goal.” He glanced between his relatives as his mind spun with a devilish idea. “I shall ask Lady Drummond to accompany me—unless she’s already received her own invitation. Should she want to bring her companion along, I won’t begrudge the woman a night out.” If they didn’t have an invite, perhaps he’d find a way to make certain one arrived at the Drummond residence. At least then he’d be guaranteed to see Miss Delacroix again. Now, who did he know in Amherst’s camp who could help?

Roberta set her fork onto her plate with a sharp clatter. “Who is her companion? Have you met her?”

Tread carefully.
His mother was like a dog with a bone if she sniffed gossip in the wind. Felix nodded. “I have.” As if he had all the time in the world, he cut pieces from a chunk of cheese. “At the musicale yesterday, Lady Drummond had unfortunate luck. A trifle fell into her lap and ruined her gown. When she retired abovestairs to attend to the mess, I happened to meet her genteel companion, a Miss Clarice Delacroix if I remember correctly.” Just uttering her name sent tendrils of heat spiraling up his spine. He rather enjoyed it.

“The name is not familiar to me.” Roberta resumed picking at her food. “She must be a poor relation of some sort if she lives between classes in a companion role.”

Was it his imagination or did his mother breathe a quick sigh of relief? He narrowed his eyes. Why shouldn’t he try and spend time with the woman if it would make him happy? He deserved to finally do something for himself. “I have it on good authority she’s not remotely related to the Drummond family.” Should he hint at her titled French bloodlines?

“Ah, then she must be someone’s desperate castoff. After all, who but a woman down on her luck would choose to be a companion to
Olivia Drummond?”

A stab of annoyance
sliced through his gut. He narrowed his eyes. Perhaps now was not the time to talk her up to his mother. “Shall I not further Olivia’s acquaintance then?”

“Good heavens
, Felix. The woman has money. For that I can overlook her penchant for questionable dealings.”

What sort of trouble had
Olivia gotten into and why hadn’t he heard about it?

“Please, Mother.
You know I don’t adhere to rumors.”

“There is talk about a shopkeeper on Bond Street.”

Bother
. “Oh please. A woman of Lady Drummond’s standing wouldn’t really conduct a dalliance with a shopkeeper.”

“Unless that lady doesn’t give two braces for her reputation.”
Charlotte dabbed at her mouth with a linen napkin. “I know of Miss Delacroix. I’ve seen her accompanying Lady Drummond about town on a few occasions.”

“Oh?” Though he tried to infuse a note of boredom into his voice, Felix’s heartbeat raced.
He was anxious to know what Charlotte thought of her. How often did Miss Delacroix leave the house, and when she did, was she alone or always in Olivia’s presence? If he walked around Mayfair, would he be able to accidentally run into her?

“Yes. I’ve never spoken with her, but she seems a pleasant sort.”

“She is. Very intelligent.” He picked up his fork, but his hand shook so badly he was forced to set it down again.

Roberta sniffed. “I’ve heard she possesses a quick temper. She’s reported to be a daughter of a dancer or opera singer or some such questionable business, and French no less.” From the tone in his mother’s voice, one would think being French was a fate worse than death.
“It’s best you stay away from that piece.”

He bristled at the slight.
She was not “a piece.”
And how did his mother know more about who Miss Delacroix’s mother might be than he did?
Blasted gossip.
“While I will say I’m not one to champion a cause backed by the French so soon after my own injuries, those roots should have no bearing on Miss Delacroix’s character.” He grabbed his paper and unfolded it. The urge to announce her pedigree grew strong, but he bit the inside of his lip to keep the words from forming.

“Calm down, my dear.” His mother’s eyebrow went skyward again. “It’s not as if a companion is worthy of your time.
You won’t be courting her so the subject is moot. Let’s forget such a murky topic and instead discuss the possibility of throwing you and Olivia Drummond together more often.”

Felix choked on the tea he just sipped. “I shall handle my own social calendar, thank you Mother
, and may I remind you, if I find a woman who interests me, I shall court her as I see fit—even if she’s not acceptable to you or the title.” He ignored Charlotte’s snicker. “Regardless, I’m calling on Lady Drummond later this afternoon.”

A smile broke out over his mother’s face. “Splendid. A fast courtship would be ideal in your case, Felix. Too long as an eligible
parti
and people will start wondering why you haven’t married.”