Lady Whistledown Strikes Back (20 page)

“My dear girl,” a voice boomed from above her. She smiled up at Lord Waverly. “Walk with me,” he said.

“Of course, my lord,” she said and stood. She pulled her shawl tighter about her shoulders against the cool breeze that had picked up once the sun had gone down, and she placed her fingers on Lord Waverly’s arm.

She excused herself from Mr. Brooks, and they left the gazebo and headed through the milling throngs. Bella had never been to Vauxhall before. There were musicians playing constantly and roving magicians and jugglers.

It was amazing, and Bella wished she could just stand still and take it all in.

But they walked past the bustle and went down toward the river. “I hear,” Lord Waverly said once they had found a quiet walkway, “that you have turned down my son’s offer of marriage.”

Bella swallowed hard and then started to cough.

“Are you all right, dear?” Lord Waverly asked, pounding her on the back, which in all truth was making it worse.

Bella finally caught her breath. She straightened, her hand resting on her chest.

“Didn’t mean to shock,” Lord Waverly said.

“Of course not,” Bella murmured.

“Do you realize,” Lord Waverly continued, “that I have spent the last seventeen years of my son’s life visiting him once a week? He never once came to see me. But now, in the last week, he has been at my home every single day.”

“Really?”

“S’truth, he’s driving me quite mad. I do wish you’d marry the boy and get him out of my hair.”

Bella stumbled to a stop. “But—”

Lord Waverly shook his head and didn’t let her continue. “I know, I know …

scandal and all that. A bunch of malarkey.” He turned so that they faced each other, and he took her face between his hands. “He’s already a bit of a scandal, isn’t he? You’re not going to taint our name, I promise you that.

Grandchildren with your brains’d be a blessing beyond description.” He punctuated his statement by kissing her forehead.

“Now then,” he said, turning and walking toward the river once more. “I told that boy of mine that I wasn’t going to say anything to you at all. I respect a woman’s prerogative to say no. Hasn’t Lady Neeley been saying no to me for ten years?”

He stopped as if he wanted her to answer, so she did. “Er, yes, my lord.”

“Don’t be cheeky, girl.”

“Sorry.”

“But then I was sitting at that table tonight, and I just could not take it. You look like a dog that’s lost her favorite bone.”

“Lovely.”

“No, it’s downright disheartening,” Lord Waverly said.

The man had obviously never learned the meaning of tact.

“You used to sparkle, girl. When you had absolutely nothing to sparkle about.

Now that you do have something to be happy about, you’re like a black cloud.”

Bella was beginning to feel very unattractive, thanks to Lord Waverly’s metaphors.

“Now then, I’d say you need to brighten up and accept my son’s proposition.

And I don’t want any talk

of scandals or tarnishing of names. If you’ll make my son happy and give me grandchildren, that’s all I could ever ask of you.” Bella did not know what to say. “Here he is now,” Lord Waverly said. Bella glanced up, and there was Lord Roxbury a short distance away. She stopped, her heart thumping hard in her chest as he strode toward them out of the groups of people that stood at the shore waiting for the Regent’s show to start.

“Thank you for bringing her to me, Father,” Roxbury said.

The man just nodded, “I’ll be on my way then. Must let Brooks know you won’t be accompanying him to the show, my dear,” Lord Waverly said to her.

“Oh dear,” Bella said, suddenly remembering poor Mr. Brooks.

She moved to catch Lord Waverly, but Lord Roxbury held her firmly. “Oh no, you don’t.”

Bella looked up into Roxbury’s soft brown eyes. “I can’t say yes,” she said.

“Yes you can,” he said. “Try it, it’s easy. You just put your tongue at the roof of your mouth and pull your lips back….” He stopped when Bella rolled her eyes.

“Listen, Bella,” he said. She blinked, as he had never said her name before.

She rather liked it coming from his lips. “I need to hire you.”

“Hire me?”

“Yes, I need to hire you to plan every single party I shall ever have for the rest of my life. And it just seems like it would be ever so much easier if you lived in my house. Don’t you think?” Bella shook her head and laughed. “That’s good, laughing is good,” Roxbury said. “Saying no is bad.”

“But—”

“Saying
but
is bad, too. You can’t say
but.”

Bella giggled.

“That’s good, too,” Roxbury said.

“Okay, yes, I’ll do all of your parties.”

“Starting with my wedding party?” he asked. “In which you will be the star attraction as my wife?”

Bella stopped for a moment and just watched Roxbury’s face. Such a good face. A good man. She had known he was a good man from the first time they had met. “I know why I love you,” she said. “But why do you love me?”

“I don’t know,” he said.

Bella scowled.

“But I do love you. I have never felt like this before in my life, Bella. The thought of marriage and a family always seemed deadly dull to me, but now, if you will be my wife, it is an adventure I crave.

I adore you, Bella. You make me believe I
can
be the perfect gentleman.”

Bella smiled.

“So?” he asked.

“So, yes, I’ll marry you,” she said quickly, before she ran away. She was a little bit afraid of this, but she also knew that she could not live as she had this last week, dreading each day and wishing she could go back and live in the past. She might as well just jump into a very scary, but promising future, rather than stay in a sad present.

Roxbury’s eyes glowed, and then they darkened, and his head bent down toward her. “Come with me,” he said.

She couldn’t help giggling as Roxbury pulled her along, through crowds of people and then out onto a walkway that wasn’t lit up at all. It was as dark as pitch, actually.

Bella snuggled closer against Roxbury’s body. The glittering excitement of Vauxhall was left behind them, and suddenly they were in a place where bad things could happen.

“Roxbury, I don’t like this at all.”

“Sh,” he said, pulling her deeper into the darkened walkway. And then they were off the path and behind a very large bush.

Roxbury immediately pulled Bella into his arms. “I couldn’t continue without having you against me like this.”

“Oh,” Bella said. “Well, I do like this.” She closed her eyes and sank into Roxbury’s tall, hard body.

“Tell me again, Bella. Tell me that you will many me.”

“I will marry you, Anthony.”

He made a deep rumbling sound in his throat. “Promise me,” he said.

“I promise. Could I ask a favor?” she said then.

“Anything.”

“I have these brand-new sheets I made for my bed. They’re silk. Could we put them on our bed?”

Anthony’s body went very still against hers. “First of all, the thought of silk sheets makes it very hard to keep my hands off of you. And second, the way you say ‘our bed’ makes it very hard to keep my hands off of you.”

Bella pushed a little away from him and tilted her head back. “So don’t keep your hands off of me.”

“Oh, all right,” he grinned at her. She could see the whiteness of his teeth in the dark, and then she felt him lean toward her, and his teeth were at the lobe of her ear.

“Oh,” she said on a quick intake of breath, and she arched against him.

Where her sound had been light, the sound that came from Anthony was dark.

It made Bella shiver

right down to her toes.

He trailed his tongue over the lobe of her ear, then just behind it, and Bella felt her legs buckle beneath her. Anthony’s arms tightened around her, his mouth moved to cover hers. She gasped again, taking in Anthony’s smell and taste completely, and suddenly she needed him more than air or food. Bella smoothed her hands up Anthony’s chest and linked them around his neck as he kissed her lips softly, tasting her as she tasted him. He moaned as she deepened the kiss, and Bella felt a joy she had never known. She felt safe, and she felt loved, but she also felt wanted and needed and excited as never before. It was heady and thrilling.

She leaned her head back so that her lover could take her mouth without hindrance, and he plunged his hand into her hair, holding her against him.

She pressed against him, wishing she could climb right inside of him. He was hard against her, his thigh pushed between her legs, and she opened. Her most intimate woman’s place pressed against the muscle of Anthony’s leg, and she knew that she had just found a newexcitement. She could not help the languorous, but heated, sound that escaped her.

Anthony’s fingers curled in her hair almost painfully. “God, Bella, I shall come undone,” he said against her mouth.

She giggled breathlessly. “I am undone, my love,” she said, “I could only wish it were so,” Anthony purred, and Bella felt his words hi every nerve ending of her body. Instinct told her exactly what was supposed to happen then, and she needed it, wanted it. She wanted to breathe his air, feel his voice instead of hear it. And she needed more. She needed him to be one with her.

She pushed aside his coat, her palm against his slightly damp shirt. His chest was hard and warm, and she wished she could tear every thread of clothing from his body in that very second and take him into her.

And then the bushes around them rustled and people were suddenly in their own private area.

“Oh!” Bella cried.

“So sorry,” a deep voice said. Bella could just make out a tall man and a slim, blonde woman with him before they ducked away.

“Was that? . ..”

“That was Easterly and his wife,” Anthony said.

“That’s what I thought. You know, I could swear I saw them digging holes behind a bush in Hyde Park the other day. They seem to be lurking in strange places lately. I had never imagined Lady Easterly to be the sort of woman to lurk.”

“Yes, but you are also lurking, are you not?”

Bella giggled.

“And I don’t think I’d ever imagined you to be the sort of person to lurk.”

“No, it is completely because of your bad influence, my lord.”

“I do try, my lady.”

“Oh my,” Bella said, her body shaking at the reminder that she was going to be a lady. It was a very scary thing to be, she thought.

Anthony’s arms tightened around her. “We’re having a moment, Bella, enjoy it.”

She laughed. “I’ve created a monster.”

“You have no idea.” He kissed her lips, and she shivered. “Now, where were we?” he asked.

“Our bed and silk sheets,” she said.

“Right,” and he took her mouth in a kiss that was even better than the one before it. And Bella just closed her eyes and enjoyed the moment. And she knew with all of her heart that she was not going to have much difficulty enjoying the next few million moments of her life.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Mia Ryan writes to stay sane. Those around her know that she hasn’t been writing enough when she starts slipping into bouts of inane chatter about painting bathrooms, crocheting blankets, and planting a garden. All of these things she has tried, actually, but with tragic results. Fortunately, she is hard at work right now on her next novel. Her latest book,
The Duchess Diaries,
hit the shelves December 2003. Visit
www.miaryan.com
to learn more about it.

The Best Of Both Worlds

Suzanne Enoch

For my uncle, Beal Whitlock,

whose laugh I will miss.

And for my aunt, Kathleen,

to whom I send a basketful

of hugs and kisses.

… but enough talk of Lady Neeley’s ill-fated fete. As difficult as it is for much of the ton to believe, there are other subjects worthy of gossip …

most notably, London’s bluest-eyed earl, Lord Matson.

Although not intended for the title (his elder brother died tragically last year), Lord Matson

does not seem to be having difficulty assuming the mantle of man-about-town. Since arriving in London earlier this Season, he has been seen with a different eligible female on his arm

each day.

And at night, with ladies who would not be considered eligible at all!

LADY WHISTLEDOWN’S SOCIETY PAPERS,
31 MAY 1816

“But we weren’t invited,” Charlotte Birling said.

Her mother, seated behind the morning room’s oak writing desk, looked up from the new
Whistledown
column. “That doesn’t signify, because we wouldn’t have attended, anyway. And thank goodness for that. Imagine us standing about chatting, and having Easterly walk in.

Infamous.”

“Sophia didn’t have to imagine it.
She
was invited.” Charlotte glanced at the mantel clock. Nearly ten. With a quickening heartbeat, she set aside her embroidery. She needed to get to the window without her mother making note of it.

“Yes. Poor Sophia.” Baroness Birling tsked. ‘Twelve years of trying to forget that man, and just as her life begins to recover, he reappears. Your cousin must have been mortified.”

Charlotte wasn’t so sure about that, but she made an assenting sound, anyway. The clock’s ornate minute hand jerked forward.
What if the clock was slow?
She hadn’t considered that.
Or what if he was early?
Unable to help it, she bounced to her feet.

“Tea, Mama?” she blurted, nearly tripping over her cat. Beethoven rolled out of the way, batting his paws at the hem of her gown.

“Hm? No, thank you, dear.” “Well, I’ll just have some.”

Her gaze out the front window, she splashed tea into a cup. The street in front of Birling House boasted

a few stray leaves, fooled by the cold weather into thinking it still winter, but nothing else moved. Not even a vendor or a carriage on the way to Hyde Park. Above the sound of paper rustling at the writing desk, the clock ticked again. Charlotte took a sip of tea, barely noting both that it was too hot and that she’d forgotten to add sugar.