His Wayward Ward - A Regency Novella (Risque Regency) (2 page)

She was regretting that she had dallied in the gardens for so long. If she had returned earlier, she would have been here to make a good impression. Not only that, but it was possible her aunt would be irked with her. Aunt Flora was sweet but she did not understand… Grayson wasn’t just
any
young man - he was the man Eliza intended to marry.

She paused at the door and took a deep breath.

‘Come along then,’ she said bracingly, ‘let us go and meet the devil.’

‘Oh, I’ve met him,’ Edward said cheerfully. ‘Marvelous clothes; by the look of his coat I’d say his tailor is Weston.’ There was a note of awe in her brother’s voice. ‘I was wondering if he’d give me an introduction when I go up to London. You need a recommendation before he’ll see you.’

‘Before Carlton will see you?’ Eliza asked, bewildered.

‘Don’t be a scatterbrain!’ her brother begged, ‘before
Weston
will see you.’

Eliza sighed. How very typical of her brother to be thinking about the cut of his jacket and some silly tailor in London when her entire future was at stake! Straightening her shoulders and lifting her chin, she opened the door of the drawing room and walked in.

She found her aunt in front of the fire, opposite a tall man who was not sitting so much as lounging back, legs crossed, one booted foot swaying gently as he nursed a glass of Madeira. He looked up as she came forward and met her eyes and Eliza’s feet slowly came to a stop, eyes widening in surprise.

This could not be right.

In fact, this was entirely wrong.

Could it be… was this really her guardian Lord
Carlton?

Chapter Two

He’s not nearly old enough
, Eliza thought with a touch of indignation. Worse than that; he as not nearly
ugly
enough! Whatever her thoughts had been about the creature before her, none of them had envisioned such a good-looking man.

His eyes were unexpected. Silver gray, the irises ringed round with black and fringed with sooty lashes. Their cool intelligence took her aback. As she stared at him, she saw a flicker of something in their depths, something half recognized which caught her by surprise and, momentarily, left her breathless. It was quickly disguised, but for an instant the gray darkened to a deeper shade of pewter; a brief, sudden fire that chased away the chill.

Languid indifference took its place, effectively shuttering everything behind a perfect social mask, which left Eliza thinking she had imagined that flash of heat. After a second’s hesitation, she started forward again, eyeing the man in the chair with uneasy trepidation.

Far from the overfed, over dressed creature she had been expecting, Carlton was a blade; sharp and hard and well built. The very sight of him made her heart race and the palms of her hands had turned slightly damp. One glance told her that this was going to be a deal more difficult than expected. While he might be old
certainly older than her, and older than Grayson who was only two and twenty - this was no cheek pincher, happy to indulge her whims for a fulsome smile and a flutter of her eyelashes. Lord Carlton was the kind of man that
ladies
would flutter their lashes for.

And I’m sure that’s not all they’d flutter
! Eliza thought, while inexplicable heat slid across her skin like a warm breath. Taking a deep breath of her own to steady her suddenly jangled nerves, Eliza looked over one of Society’s rakes and decided he was probably very successful in his pursuit of dissolution. Such dark good looks and that air of lazy amusement must have assuredly smoothed his progress down the path of wickedness.

At two and thirty Carlton was unmarried, an age many thought to be past redemption. With such a disregard for the union, he seemed stubbornly determined to remain a bachelor, a tragedy, for he was indecently rich. His lordship was considered a fine swordsman, an excellent shot and a dreadful womanizer but, as he was
Carlton
, any peculiarities were generally overlooked.

She did not care for the way those strange eyes were looking her over.
As if he is assessing a restless filly
, she thought. Or as if he were stripping each article of clothing from her body…

Unconsciously, she raised her chin and met that impertinent stare head on. He smiled a little and that same prickle of awareness came again, unsettling her even more.

Abruptly, Eliza turned to her aunt whose flushed face indicated just how displeased she was with the unexpected arrival of her guest. ‘I am so sorry that I’m late, Aunt Flora.’

‘Where have you
been
, child? See now, your guardian has come to visit,’ Aunt Flora said, with forced good humor.

Setting his glass down, Carlton rose to his feet, the movement lithe and easy, almost catlike. While unable to generate the amount of enthusiasm Edward had for Carlton’s clothing, Eliza noted that the black coat of superfine and buff breeches fit his tall, lean frame superbly, while his snowy white neckcloth was a work of art and the tasseled hessians gleamed. Eliza could well imagine that her brother would wish for a pair of shoulders like Carlton’s, for they set off his tailor’s efforts to perfection. ‘Well now,’ the deep voice was amused, ‘the missing has been found.’

Eliza flashed him a swift look. ‘My Lord,’ she said, closing the gap between them reluctantly and holding out a hand. He took it and pressed a light kiss as she dropped a curtsey, doing her best to ignore the gentle brush of those lips across her skin. Even after he had released her, the kiss seemed to linger and she resisted the urge to scrub her hand against her dress.

‘I was expecting you this past hour,’ her aunt interjected, still sounding ruffled. ‘I sent Edward to find you as your maid said you had not yet returned from the library.’

‘I met a friend and we fell to talking,’ Eliza said as truthfully as possible. ‘I’m sorry, Aunt Flora, I did not realize it was so late.’

‘Yes, well…’ Aunt Flora paused, clearly collecting both her manners and her customary aplomb. ‘Eliza dear, this is Lord Carlton.’

‘You’re older than I expected,’ Carlton commented. ‘I assumed you were still in the schoolroom.’

‘I’m eighteen.’ Those silver-grey eyes continued to disconcert her. Eliza felt as if she were confronting an unknown species, something dark and unnervingly dangerous. Men in the wilds of rural Suffolk or in the polite circles of Bath Society were of a far different ilk. Why, even the supposed dandies and the one or two rakes who were considered sufficiently tame to be allowed near the fledgling debutantes were nothing like Carlton. He radiated a predatory aura that made the air around him almost…
crackle
. This was ridiculous, considering they were standing in her aunt’s front parlor, the tamest of environments.

Carlton’s smile seemed to suggest that he knew something of her inner confusion, but he merely raised an eyebrow. ‘And have you come out yet?’

‘Eliza is enjoying her first Season,’ Aunt Flora interjected quickly. ‘She should have come out last year but... well, never mind. Better late than never.’ Generally, a girl from a good family was presented to court or - if she was not to experience London - in the smaller courts of one of the provincial centers at seventeen. ‘She’s proving to be
very
popular.’

‘I’m sure she is,’ his lordship murmured.

Eliza dropped her eyes.

‘I say, Sir,’ Edward had been hanging back, clearly studying his lordship’s attire in silent admiration while mentally trying to work out the complicated folds of Carlton’s neckcloth. He had already deduced it was the Waterfall, but with variations that seemed miraculous, ‘I was wondering if you could recommend me to your tailor when I come up to town?’

Carlton’s eyes shifted to look over Edward’s outfit and a flicker of distaste crossed his face as he studied the shirt’s elevated collar. ‘Well I suppose somebody has to. Who do you go to now?’

‘Bexley, on York Street.’

‘The man is a monster if he allows you to walk the streets like that.’

Edward grimaced but he took the criticism in good part. This was
Carlton
, after all, a nonpareil in the world of men’s fashion. ‘I suppose it isn’t quite up to snuff. I know it won’t cut the mustard in London.’

‘No,’ his Lordship agreed, ‘it won’t.’

Eliza’s soft mouth tightened, a slow burn of indignation igniting in her on behalf of her brother. The man might impress Edward, but she disliked his lordship’s air of arrogant assurance. Clearly, he thought a great deal of himself.

And why was he here? What did he want?

Aunt Flora was obviously wondering the same thing. ‘Well, Carlton, I’m sure that you have a previous engagement, or I would invite you to dine so perhaps you can tell me to what we owe the honor?’

‘I have nothing planned this evening,’ his lordship replied coolly. ‘How kind of you, my dear Mrs. Fitzwilliams. What time do you dine?’

‘Six o’clock,’ Flora said with a snap.

Carlton smiled. ‘Country hours, how… refreshing.’

‘I’m delighted that you find our provincial ways so entertaining. And of course we would be delighted to have you dine with us. However, now that both Edward and Eliza have joined us perhaps you can tell me why you’re here. I had no idea you were coming to Bath.’

‘A last minute decision,’ Carlton said easily, ‘I am relieved to have found you at home.’

‘That’s all well and good, but I fail to see why Edward and Eliza needed to be here before you would state your business.’ Flora eyed the man before her resentfully; he had always made her feel a little nervous. Something about her seemed to amuse him and Flora Fitzwilliams did not enjoy feeling that he thought her a joke.

‘It’s just that I am loathed to repeat myself. Naturally, I am devastated that you find my behavior peculiar, but then, a great many people do, so it should be of some comfort that you are not alone. As to why I am here…shall we call it a belated fit of conscience? It has been some months since the Viscount passed away and I was wondering how are my two wards were faring. I’m surprised to find you
both
here,’ he added, casting another glance at Edward. ‘I might be mistaken but are you not supposed to be in school?’

‘Rusticated down,’ Edward said with a shrug. ‘They kicked me out for two months.’

Carlton looked at him with renewed interest. ‘Gambling? Women?’

Eliza opened her mouth to protest that her brother would never be so foolish, but Edward merely grinned. ‘More like the Dean’s hat and cloak and a donkey. Some people have no sense of humor.’

‘Academia has never been known for its broadminded outlook. How are you finding Bath?’

‘It’s all right,’ Edward allowed grudgingly, giving his aunt a quick look. Eliza knew that her brother did not mean to be ungrateful, but she also knew he was bored rigid knocking about Bath as he trailed after his aunt and sister. It had been quite trying for everybody as he did not particularly like Grayson and made no secret of the fact, no matter how pleasant Grayson was to him. ‘It’s jolly nice of Aunt Flora to put up with me.’

‘Oh, I’m sure she manages very well. Although if you’re subjecting her to the likes of that shirt every day I can see how it could become wearing. And what of you, Miss. Percival?’ Carlton abruptly shifted his attention back to his youngest ward, ‘how do you enjoy Bath?’

‘I’m enjoying it very much indeed.’

‘But were you not disappointed not to be presented in London?’ he demanded, clearly surprised.

Eliza shook her head. She had wondered, at first, why her aunt had not taken a house in town, but it soon became apparent that Flora Fitzwilliams was so solidly entrenched in Bath Society that she would not willingly leave it. Besides, she always maintained that provincial husbands were by far the better quality, being less inclined to fall into the folly of town ways. Having met Grayson, Eliza was more than willing to concede she had a point. ‘I don’t believe London could hold a patch to what we have here. I’m perfectly happy with the entertainments that Bath has to offer,’ she said firmly.

‘I’d be jolly pleased to spend some time in London!’ Edward exclaimed. ‘Are you here to take us up with you? Because I was thinking I could do with some new shirts and the kind I like are devilishly hard to get in Bath.’

Eliza gave her brother a scornful look. ‘Honestly, Edward! What kind of shirts do you need? You know perfectly well you can get the same things here that you can get in London.’

‘Not everything. Bexley himself said that good quality lawn shirts were particularly scarce down here.’

‘Oh… fiddle!’

‘Oh, no,’ Carlton said, with a touch of malice, ‘I believe your brother is quite right. And life is really too short to go without a good quality lawn shirt, don’t you think?’

Eliza stared at her guardian suspiciously. ‘No, I do not. It’s a shirt, for heaven’s sake. How can a shirt make the smallest bit of difference?’

‘Well, it does.’ Edward flashed back, shaken out of his usual, placid good-humor by his sister’s lack of sartorial refinement. ‘And I, for one, would be delighted to go up to London and… and outfit myself properly!’

Carlton was gazing at Eliza – who was glaring at her brother – with large, dark eyes that sparkled with displeasure. After a moment, he nodded, almost to himself. ‘Yes. Why not? I think a few weeks in London would be very good for both of you. It will take any rough edges off.’ He smiled at Eliza whose gaze had immediately swung back to him. Her horrified expression suggested that she had somehow substituted ‘London’ with ‘Timbuktu’. It sealed the deal for Carlton. ‘Yes, I would be delighted to have you join me in Curzon Street. I shall arrange to have my coach brought down and you may both travel up on Saturday.’

‘Saturday!’ Eliza exclaimed. ‘B-but I don’t
want
to go to London!’

‘Nonsense. I’ve heard from reliable sources that every young lady wants to go to London.’ Turning, he bowed to a gaping Flora who had listened to this conversation with growing dismay. ‘I shall be with you for dinner and we can discuss the matter further, but for now, I shall say goodbye. It has gone four already and if I am to be ready for you at six, I must return home. But rest assured, dear lady,’ he added with a wicked smile, ‘it will be a brief parting.’