Miss Hillary Schools a Scoundrel (20 page)

“How kind of you to extend an invitation to us this evening, Mrs. Murphy,” Lana’s mother greeted their hostess.

Mrs. Murphy returned her mother’s false smile. “It is always a pleasure, Mrs. Hillary. Did you bring that charming young man you spoke of earlier?”

Lana did her best to hide her irritation as she waited on Jake’s arm.

“She is referring to me, correct?” Jake whispered.

Lana appreciated his attempt at levity, but humor couldn’t soothe her frayed nerves. Thanks to her mother, she would spend the evening attempting to avoid Lord Bollrud while Mama orchestrated enforced encounters. How she had finagled a last-minute invitation for the man stumped Lana.

“We should be so fortunate,” her mother answered, “but Lord Bollrud will arrive with Her Grace.”

Clearly, her mother had relied on the Duchess of Foxhaven’s popularity and influence to encourage their hostess to invite Lord Bollrud.

Mama moved past their hostess to mingle with the other guests.

Mrs. Murphy clasped her hands together. “
Miss
Hillary, I hear there are exciting things happening in your life.”

Lana could only imagine what her mother had told her. “I’m afraid nothing out of the ordinary. Although I must say, I find charades an exciting prospect. Thank you for the kind invitation.”

Their hostess beamed. “It is our pleasure, my dear. So nice to see you up and about, Mr. Hillary.”

Jake exchanged pleasantries before they joined the other guests. Lana scanned the faces for Drew but didn’t see him. Fortunately, Lord Bollrud remained absent too. Was it evil to wish a mild stomach ailment might keep Bollrud away? Lana sighed. What a horrible thought. She should be ashamed of wishing an ailment upon the gentleman.

Soon the duchess’s effervescent chatter carried on the air. Butterflies flittered about inside her. Drew had arrived. She craned her neck to catch a glimpse. The duchess swept into the parlor followed by Lord Bollrud, but Drew never trailed in behind his mother.

The duchess strode to Lana and gathered her in a bone-crushing hug. For such a small woman, she had the strength of Hercules. “Miss Hillary, you look lovely, dear,” she murmured in Lana’s ear. “Drew is running behind schedule but asked me to extend his love.”

Lana sucked in a full breath to inflate her lungs when the duchess released her. “Thank you, Your Grace.”

A small frown formed on her face. “We will need to address this ‘Your Grace’ nonsense at another time.”

Lord Bollrud stepped forward to capture Lana’s hand and placed a kiss on her knuckles. “Miss Hillary, what a pleasure.”

She tugged her hand from his grip. “Thank you, Lord Bollrud.”

Jake loomed beside her, and a spark of satisfaction warmed her belly when Bollrud backed away. Her brother could be intimidating, even with a bum leg.

“Bollrud.” Jake’s rumbling voice was laced with unmistakable warning. She adored her brother at this moment.

Mrs. Murphy floated around the room arranging dining partners for the promenade. Lana breathed a grateful sigh when their hostess paired her with Jake. Unfortunately, Lord Bollrud would take position on her right. As Lord Bollrud hadn’t offered for her, she didn’t feel comfortable broaching the topic with him. She would like to avoid wounding his pride, so she must be studious in her attempts to discourage his courtship.

Drew sauntered into the parlor and approached their hostess with a charming smile and an apology for being late. Lana’s thoughts of Bollrud evaporated.

Her gaze often strayed to Drew during the dinner. He seemed mesmerized by whatever Lady Chickering told him. In fact, she wondered if the countess had hypnotized him with the way his eyes had acquired a glassed-over look.

“This soup is superb,” Lord Bollrud announced beside her.

She did her best to ignore his deplorable manners, but his slurping drew more than a few horrified glances.

“What is this delicious concoction?” he asked.

Lana’s stomach turned as broth dribbled down his chin. “Mulligatawny. It is an East Indian recipe.” She set down her spoon, her appetite lost.

Her mother stared in dismay. Laughter bubbled inside of Lana, but she pushed it down. It would serve her mother right if Lana pretended interest in the boorish man.

The gentleman insisted on conversing with a full mouth of food throughout the meal. She provided head nods and verbal acknowledgements when he spoke but couldn’t stomach looking at him. In fact, she tried blocking the entire experience.

“Splendid. I shall call tomorrow.”

Lana snapped from her daze. “Tomorrow?”

“Yes, for our stroll through the park.”

Blast!
Had she given her consent without realizing? “Oh, tomorrow…” She pretended to contemplate her schedule. “I am afraid tomorrow is no good.”

“Very well. The day after then.”

“Hmm…” She could feign illness the day after, although conjuring thoughts of his eating habits might bring on an actual stomach ailment. Lana released a resigned sigh. “Very well, sir. Come by the day after tomorrow.”

Better to be direct with Lord Bollrud and encourage him to seek out another. Perhaps she could suggest a nice young lady and assist with his efforts.

The guests moved to an adjoining room after dinner. A moment later, a footman approached Drew’s mother, passing her a folded piece of foolscap. She perused the note then waved for Drew. A wide grin indicated she had received good tidings. Drew’s dimpled smile followed his reading of the note. His head snapped up to search out Lana.

“Pheebs has given birth,” he said in a low voice as he reached the spot where she and Jake stood.

Lana issued a tiny squeal. “How wonderful. The baby is all right? How is Phoebe?”

“Both are well. Mother and I must excuse ourselves from charades, I’m afraid.” Drew hesitated a moment. “Would you like to accompany us?”

“Oh, do you feel that would be proper? I’m not family.”

Jake nudged her. “You should go, Lana.”

“But what about you? I dragged you here when you hate charades. I cannot abandon you.”

“I’ll manage,” he said. “Go before Mother harangues you into spending more time with that dullard Bollrud.”

No further prompting was required.

In the landau, the duchess prattled about the baby. “I cannot believe Richard sent no word when Phoebe began labor.”

As soon as they rolled to a stop in front of the Forests’ town house, Her Grace darted through the carriage door.

Drew offered a lopsided grin and closed the door against the cooler evening air. “I promise to follow Rich’s example and keep Mother far away during the birthing of our babe.”

Lana’s heart overflowed. Good heavens. How she longed to bear Drew’s children. Struggling to push aside her earlier misgivings, she exhaled. “I’m ready, Drew.”

He started. “Of course, shall we go inside? Phoebe will be pleased you came.”

“You misunderstand me. Do you—” She took a deep breath. “Would you still like to wed me?”

Drew jerked the curtains closed, blocking out the night, and moved to sit beside her. The dim glow of the carriage lights created a cozy sanctuary.

“Are you accepting my proposal a second time?”

She licked her lips then nodded.

“And you will not change your mind in the morning?” His teasing tone relieved her anxiety.

“That depends on how well you convince me I have made the correct decision.”

“I see.” Cradling her face, he met her lips. His heated fingers warmed the sensitive skin of her jaw line as his smooth lips pecked at hers. Lana dissolved against him, never wanting the kiss to end and whimpering when he stopped it.

He leaned his forehead against hers and sighed, a hint of mint jelly on his breath. “I wish I could make love to you. But I suppose we best go inside before someone searches for us.”

She groaned. “When did
you
become so proper?”

“Since I promised your father I would be a proper husband.” Drew gathered her against him. The contoured muscles of his chest twitched against her palm, heating her blood.

“A proper husband knows when to bed his wife.”

Drew’s heart beat heavily under her hand. “It has been a long time, hasn’t it, peach?”

Lana didn’t trust herself to speak.
Eleven
days, twelve hours, forty-two minutes, and thirty seconds
.

With her sight adjusted to the dim light, she caught the naughty sparkle in his eyes before he hauled her on his lap.

“Drew.” She giggled as he showered her neck and shoulders with playful kisses.

“Yes, my sweet?”

“What are you doing?”

Cupping her breast, he gently rolled her nipple between his fingers and nuzzled her neck. “Practicing being a proper husband.”

“What if… we…?” She lost the thought on a sigh. Goodness, Drew knew how to rattle her mind.

“What if we are found?” he completed her thought.

“Indeed.” Lana closed her eyes and leaned her head back, breathing in deeply as he nibbled her earlobe and slid his fingers into her hair.

“Do you think we should stop?”

“Probably,” she murmured. “But don’t you dare.”

Chuckling, he tugged the bodice of her gown low and captured her nipple with his lips, wetting her chemise. The unique sensation thrilled her. Drew was unpredictable and exciting. “Lift up, peach.”

Lana stood, slightly bent over to keep from hitting her head on the rooftop of the carriage, eager to engage in whatever improper behavior he had in mind. Gathering her skirts around her waist, Drew untied her drawers and smoothed his hands over her bottom as her undergarment slithered to the floor. He freed himself before seating her on his lap again, this time facing away.

“Wh-what are you doing?”

“So very inquisitive tonight, my dear.” Her skirts slowly slid up her thighs as Drew bunched her silk gown in his fists. “Allow me to satisfy your curiosity.”

Pushing with his knees, he spread her legs, delving his fingers into her curls. His free hand found her breast while his fingers stole inside her before swiping across that special spot that gave her pleasure.

Lana gave a throaty moan and soon rocked her hips to match his tempo, losing herself in the ecstasy of his touch. His hardened length pressed against her bottom, sending her heart into an erratic rhythm.

Drew’s lips brushed the rim of her ear. “Take me inside of you, Lana.”

Her eyes popped open. “How?”

Grasping her waist, he urged her to rise before pulling her down. A shuddering sigh shook her as Drew entered her. She had no idea they could make love in such a way.

He didn’t move immediately, taking a moment to nuzzle her neck, creating delicious shivers along her skin. “I’ve missed you, Lana.”

She closed her eyes and reveled in the delightful tingles he created with his fingers. Instinctively, she tilted forward slightly and placed her hands on his knees.

Gripping her hips, Drew guided her movements, hauling her flush against him. Lana quickly mastered the lesson, feeling decidedly wicked and exhilarated.

When he withdrew, Lana uttered a cry of protest, which earned a chuckle. “We aren’t finished, you little vixen. Turn around. I want to see your face when you reach your pleasure.”

She maneuvered in the crowded space to straddle him, and he filled her immediately. She rocked forward, riding him, pleasuring them both. The power was heady.

“My God, you are beautiful,” he said on a heavy breath.

Lana stilled. She had never felt attractive and desirable until Drew. Leaning to kiss him once again, she whispered, “I love you.”

His breath hitched and his head dropped against the seat back. A few deep thrusts sent him over the edge, his husky moan signaled his release. Moments later, Lana cried out as bliss swept through her, hard, sudden, unexpectedly.

Holding her close, Drew stroked the length of her spine as her heartbeat slowed. “You’ve ruined me, peach.” His breath blew across her ear.

She laughed and pushed away from him. “Oh, Andrew, you were ruined long before me.”

“No,” he replied, still running his hands along her back. “I am quite hopelessly in love now.”

Drew assisted Lana with pinning her hair and straightening her clothes.

She nibbled her bottom lip, an action he found adorable. “What will the servants think?”

He knew what they would think. The men had grown accustomed to his habits, much to his chagrin. “Don’t worry, peach. They won’t suspect anything other than a stolen kiss or two.”

Some lies were meant to be told, especially if they protected loved ones. Drew exited the carriage and found the driver feigning sleep on his perch while the footman had wandered from his post. He would adequately reward the servants for their discretion later.

Scanning the grounds first and finding the area deserted, he reached inside to assist Lana down the steps. “Hurry,” he whispered. “No one is around.”

She grasped his hand tightly and scrambled from the carriage before rushing inside his brother’s home. With no one lingering in the foyer, Drew ushered her to the water closet where she could freshen.

“I will wait in the drawing room, three doors down,” he whispered.

Color brightened her cheeks, and she gave a brief nod before disappearing inside the water closet.

Drew sauntered toward the drawing room, wondering if he had time for a drink before Lana joined him.

“It’s a boy.” His father’s booming voice startled him. Raising a glass in salute, his father grinned from ear to ear. “Your sisters are upstairs, and I detected a flash of skirts dashing up the stairs a while back. I assume that was your mother.”

“And why are you down here?” Drew asked. “Have you seen your grandson yet?”

The duke shook his head, flushing pink. “Don’t misunderstand. I am proud.”

Drew moved to the sideboard to pour a celebratory scotch for himself. “You should be most concerned with how Rich interprets your absence.”

“Your brother must know I’m pleased.” His father paused and took a gulp of his drink. “But Richard has produced two sons already while your oldest brother hasn’t even taken a wife.”

Poor Luke would never hear the end of it once Drew married Lana and produced issue. Perhaps their firstborn would be a boy as well.

“Don’t fret over Luke. He will marry once he finds the right match.”

“He isn’t even bloody looking,” his father grumbled.

Drew sipped his drink to hide his smile. “Forget Luke. Today is a joyous occasion. Come upstairs to welcome the new family member. Miss Hillary will join me in a moment and then we will go up.”

His father frowned. “You’ve brought a guest? This is highly irregular, Drew.”

“No need to be high on the ropes, Father. Miss Hillary enjoys a close friendship with Pheebs. Besides, she will be part of the family soon.”

“You mean to adopt her?” His father’s confused expression left him tongue-tied. If the question had come from his mother, he would have known she had asked it in jest. Yet, his father’s show of humor was rare and delivered with such absence of expression, Drew never knew if he joked or not.

Finally, a smile spread across his father’s face. “Your mother and I do speak, Drew. Congratulations.”

Drew accepted his father’s handshake and backslapping hug. “Thank you. I couldn’t be more pleased.”

“Your mother is fond of Miss Hillary, although I’m troubled by her relations.”

“But you are friends with the Hillarys.”

His father frowned. “Remaining on friendly terms is important to your mother. I simply accept her feelings on the matter.”

Drew lowered his brows, trying to make sense of his father’s words.

His father waved his hand. “Never mind the history. That’s unimportant. You’ve already offered for Miss Hillary, so you must follow through with your word.”

Drew rubbed his chin. His father was an odd chap at times, but another thought was foremost in his mind, so he didn’t contemplate his sire for long. “Father, do you think you might be able to procure a special license?”

He flinched in response to his father’s rapid change in demeanor. His fierce glare reminded Drew a lot of his brother. “What have you done, Andrew? Do not tell me you’ve compromised the girl.”

A flash of anger heated his blood. “My relationship with Miss Hillary is none of your concern.”

“You’ve gotten her with child, haven’t you?” His father’s pink complexion changed to a dark red. “How many times have I warned you about your reckless behavior? How am I to correct your mess?”

Drew clenched his teeth, furious with his father’s insulting assumptions. “I don’t need you to correct my mess. Can you procure the license or shall I seek help elsewhere?”

“I’ll see what I can do.” His father downed his drink, a glower still on his face. “I always knew with your indiscriminate bedding of wenches one day, you would make a mistake. Indeed. You’re marrying the chit… I’ll stand for nothing less.”

Drew opened his mouth to correct his father’s belief that Lana was a mistake, but she appeared in the doorway at that moment. He forced a smile, not wishing to alarm her. “Miss Hillary, there you are. Shall we offer our congratulations to Rich and Phoebe?”

He would set his father straight later, and demand an apology. His relationship with Lana was the only intelligent decision he had made in his life.

Lana stood at the threshold with uncertainty clouding her wide green eyes. Had she overheard their conversation?

Drew stepped forward with an easy smile, hoping to reassure her. He weighed the wisdom in mentioning the incident later. If she wasn’t privy to his father’s insults, he didn’t want to upset her.

“I’ll send a footman to announce our arrival,” he said.

“Very good.” Lana’s tentative smile didn’t reassure him, but he would watch her the rest of the evening for signs of distress before broaching the topic.

Several moments later, the servant rejoined them. “Please, follow me.”

“I know the way.” Drew held Lana’s hand and pulled her up the stairs while his father followed at a slower pace.

***

Lana did her best to push her doubts aside as they neared Phoebe’s chamber door. She hadn’t meant to eavesdrop. Her heart squeezed. The duke had demanded Drew marry, that he’d made a mistake—their child was a mistake.

She didn’t know if there was a child yet, but there would be before long if she continued to surrender to her lust. Lana was no better than Drew. Perhaps she was even worse, behaving like a trollop.

She blinked against the tears threatening to make an appearance. Drew hadn’t corrected his father. Did he see her as nothing more than a huge misstep?

Stop
it.

Drew had professed his love in the carriage. If a baby came a few months after they spoke their vows, he or she would simply be a beautiful addition to their family.

Drew rapped on the door before entering his brother and sister-in-law’s private chambers. Phoebe sat in the middle of the rich cherry canopied bed, reclining against luxurious silk pillows, Lord Richard on one side and their firstborn, Stephan, on the other.

All Lana’s concerns evaporated the moment she laid eyes on the bundle in Phoebe’s arms. She could think of nothing but the miracle her friend cuddled close to her heart. The Forest women perched on the edges of the bed, cooing to the baby and expressing their wonder.

Phoebe’s face glowed with happiness, and she appeared fresh, as if she had just woken from a full night’s sleep, which seemed quite unfair.

She reached toward Lana. “You came.”

Lana hurried to the bed to take her hand.

“Please, sit.”

The two youngest girls moved aside to make room, and Drew sat beside her. The baby’s dark hair stuck up from his tiny head, and sooty lashes lay against his pink skin. He resembled Lord Richard.

Gabby caressed the baby’s cheek with her small finger. “Isn’t he handsome? He’ll grow into a proper gentleman with all of us women to guide him.” From the opposite side of the bed, she shot a pointed look in Drew’s direction. “Too bad all men can’t boast the same advantage.”

Drew rolled his eyes before turning his full attention to his newest nephew. “Good thing your father wasn’t proper or you wouldn’t be here,” he mumbled under his breath. Phoebe must have heard, because her cheeks changed to bright red while Lord Richard beamed with pride.

“What is his name?” Lana asked, hoping to ease her friend’s embarrassment with a change of topic.

“Samuel Richard. Sam,” she answered.

“Stephan and Samuel; what do you think of that?” Drew asked his nephew who was snuggled against his mother’s side.

“Both start with the same letter,” he answered with confidence. “Sam doesn’t know that yet, because he’s a baby. I’ll have to teach him, since I am the big brother like my papa.”

Lana couldn’t help but marvel at the beautiful picture they presented. Was it possible for her and Drew to be as happy?

“Would you like to hold him?” Phoebe passed the baby to Lana.

“Oh.” His weight settled in her arms, as light as a cloud. And he was tiny, frighteningly small, as if one rough movement might break him. Just as she thought to hand him back, he puckered his lips, making the most heavenly mewling sounds and capturing her heart. Smiling, Lana hugged him close and gently rocked.

Before passing him to the duchess, she placed a tender kiss on his forehead. She had never guessed the joy a baby could bring. The soft glow on Drew’s face made her chest swell with love.

After several more moments, Lana reluctantly bid them farewell. Drew insisted on escorting her home and dragged Gabby along to quell any possible rumors. It seemed a poor choice, but Lana wouldn’t ask the duchess to leave her grandson’s side.

When the carriage arrived at Hillary House, Drew frowned at Gabby. “Do you mind?”

“Why did you ask me along if you planned to ruin her anyway?” She sighed as if world-weary and covered her eyes with her hand. “Happy?”

Drew pulled Lana across the carriage and placed a brief kiss on her cheek. “Very.”

***

James Hillary sat at his desk reconciling his accounts when a servant tapped at the door. “Enter.”

The butler approached his desk and leaned down to speak discreetly. “Mr. Hillary, there is a gentleman here to see you.”

He tossed his quill on the desk with an exasperated sigh. Who could it be now? Andrew Forest left only thirty minutes prior. He had barely gotten anything started and here he had another interruption.

“Where is the gentleman’s card?” He thought he sounded more patient than he felt.

Hogan shifted uneasily. “He doesn’t appear to have one, sir. He said I’m to tell you he is Lord Bollrud, great-nephew to the Dowager Lady Dohve.”

James squeezed the bridge of his nose. Perhaps he could deny him an audience, but then again, it wouldn’t do to insult Foxhaven, and the man was the duke’s guest. “Show him to the formal drawing room. I will join him in a moment.”

Hopefully, Bollrud hadn’t come for the reason he suspected. Susan had been excessive in her praise of the young man, having met him at Irvine Castle. She had hinted of his interest in Lana, but to hear his wife talk, Bollrud spent most of his time doting on
her
rather than his daughter. If the gentleman offered for his wife, he might consider giving his consent.

James grimaced, ashamed of his uncharitable thought, but living with Susan was challenging. He found it easiest to avoid her. Unfortunately, when it came to their children’s welfare, he couldn’t keep his distance. He must interact with her, and if things didn’t go as well as she anticipated, he was to blame. In fact, he was responsible for every ill that befell his wife, and she never allowed him to forget it.

Perhaps the match with Lord Andrew would please her. Warmth infused his face. He should have already told her of Lord Andrew’s offer and his acceptance.

James reached the doorway to the drawing room and studied Bollrud. He seemed unaware of James’s presence as he snooped around the room, picking up objects as if weighing their worth. He stood with shoulders slumped in ill-fitted clothes. How could his wife think this buffoon would be a good husband for Lana? A title did not make him worthy of their daughter. He wouldn’t allow his wife to use Lana to gain status. Lord Andrew inspired James’s confidence. He believed in the young man’s promise to make his daughter happy, especially after witnessing Lana’s reaction to Lord Andrew at dinner the other night. She was smitten. She reminded him of the joyful little girl she once had been. How could he deny her the happiness he had lost?

He cleared his throat. “Lord Bollrud, to what do I owe this pleasure?”

Bollrud jumped and fumbled the Limoges figurine his wife cherished. James held his breath as he waited for it to crash to the floor, but the man recovered and placed it on the sideboard.

James ambled into the room. “You demonstrate an aptitude for juggling. What other talents do you keep hidden?”

Bollrud turned on his heel. “I’m here to finalize the agreement.”

“Indeed? And to what agreement do you refer?”

The man sank into a chair without an invitation. “To marry your daughter, of course.”

“I see. And has my daughter indicated any desire to wed you, sir?”

Bollrud frowned and rubbed his temple. “Miss Hillary… I believe she will accept me.” He shook his head as if to clear cobwebs from his rarely used head. “May I be direct, Mr. Hillary?”

“By all means.” The sooner he dismissed the man, the quicker he could return to his books.

“I spoke with your wife, and I am aware of your situation. Miss Hillary hasn’t been receiving offers of marriage despite her obvious attractiveness. I’m here to take your daughter off your hands.”

James’s fists clenched at his sides, and he ground his teeth. “It is unnecessary to relieve me of my daughter’s company.” He spoke in clipped words.

The man blinked. “But Mrs. Hillary said—”

“My wife spoke out of turn. She is in no position to arrange anything for our daughter. Lana is my sole responsibility.” He started for the door. “I’m sorry for your trouble. I will have Hogan show you out.”

“If she doesn’t find a husband next season, which seems doubtful since she hasn’t found one in two seasons, will you put her on the shelf?” Bollrud rested his foot on his opposite knee and picked his teeth with his thumbnail. “There is no need. I’ll marry her.”