Pride and Fire (9 page)

The lady’s maid entered the chamber and Michelle smiled brightly.

“Good morning, Betsy,” Michelle said. “And how are you this fine morning?”

“J-just fine, My Lady,” Betsy said. “Will you be seein’ His Lordship today?”

“Yes.” Michelle laughed. “Is it that obvious?”

Betsy nodded. “Which day dress, My Lady?”

“Perhaps the white one, Betsy,” Michelle answered. “The one with the blue flowers?”

“Oh, yes,” Betsy agreed. “That dress is quite fetchin’ on you.”

Michelle thanked the girl and prepared herself for Paul’s visit.

He arrived just as she and her mother finished breakfast. Lady Helen’s eyes widened in surprise when the butler announced him.

“Michelle, what is this about?” her mother asked.

Michelle shrugged her shoulders, feigning innocence as she struggled to keep a smile from her face, and trailed after her mother into the parlor. Paul leaned against the mantle, relaxation in his long-legged stance. Mmm, he looked even better than he had last night.

“Lord Leed!” Lady Helen exclaimed. “So good to see you again.”

“Lady Helen,” he said with a deep bow. “Lady Michelle.”

His eyes met Michelle’s, a sparkle in them. Was he thinking of what they’d done in this room last night?

Her cheeks warm, she quirked a smile at him as she curtsied. “Hello, Lord Leed.”

He shook his head at her even as a grin spread over his features. He turned back to her mother. “Lady Helen, I wish to express my regrets over the events of yesterday afternoon.”

Lady Helen bowed her head in acceptance, settling herself on the settee. Paul motioned for Michelle to take a seat and sat down beside her. He took her hand in his and faced her mother.

“After having had time to think over my situation, I would like for the wedding to take place this Saturday.”

Lady Helen blinked at him in surprise. “This Saturday? Do you mind my asking what has changed?”

Paul gave a laugh. “Not in the least, Madam,” he said. “I’ve decided I cannot wait a year to make your lovely daughter my wife.”

Michelle flushed at that admission. Paul placed a kiss on her hand, his eyes sparkling.

“Splendid!” Lady Helen exclaimed. “We’ll have to start right away, my dears, if everything is to be done properly. We may have to hold the nuptials here, I daresay.”

Lady Helen went on to list all of the tasks to be completed. Michelle nodded, trying to keep all of what her mother was saying straight in her mind. Paul leaned back, his arm draped over the back of the settee.

“I daresay I’m quite relived that I merely have to procure the license and show up on time,” he said.

The two ladies clicked their tongues at him and resumed their planning.

* * * *

Paul paid a visit on Lord and Lady Kanewood that afternoon.

“Leed,” Geoffrey said. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“Geoffrey,” Becca chided her husband. “Is that any way to greet our good friend?”

Paul bowed to Becca with a smile. “I have some wonderful news, Rebecca.”

“Oh?” she asked, her eyes twinkling. “Do tell us, Lord Leed.”

Paul sat on the settee facing her, surprised at the sharp interest in her eyes. Geoffrey gave a chuckle and Paul looked at him in question.

“Am I missing something, Kane?” Paul asked him.

“It seems, Leed, that Rebecca has been starved for news of late.”

Becca waved one hand. “Geoffrey, that’s not true.”

“It is true, love.” He took her hand and turned back to Paul. “She even went so far as to ask Lady Michelle to apprise her of all the latest gossip.”

Becca’s eyes widened at her husband’s mention of Michelle. She looked at Paul with concern and Paul’s grin widened.

“What precisely is your news, Lord Leed?” Becca asked.

“Lady Michelle has consented to be my wife.”

“What?” Geoffrey asked in comical surprise.

“Oh, that’s the most wonderful news!” Becca squealed, her hands clasped in delight.

She shot her husband a knowing glance, at which he bowed his head.

Paul looked from one to the other. “Kane, what’s going on?”

“I’m afraid my wife has been cheated out of a bit of matchmaking.”

“Matchmaking?” Paul laughed. “Oh, I believe our match was inevitable.”

“That’s what I told my husband,” Rebecca said. “You see, Geoffrey? I told you so.”

Geoffrey groaned. “You’re going to be impossible to live with, aren’t you, love?”

“Just a bit,” she teased.

Paul watched them for a moment. “I hope Michelle and I will be as happy as you two.”

“Not possible,” Geoffrey said. “But I daresay you’ll give us a good run for the money.”

Paul shook his head and laughed.

When he entered his townhouse he went directly to his study. He penned a few notes to several of his connections in the House of Lords, advising them of the increase in his availability. He sat back, resignation causing him to let out a harsh breath. He called for Starks to see to the notes and settled himself behind the desk once more.

Without a glance toward his ledgers, he turned his attention to the folders on the left side of his desk. He thumbed through the pile, searching for nothing in particular. With a sigh, he settled on one near the top. He opened the file and placed it in front of him. He read through the contents and shook his head.

“Ridiculous.”

Giving a shrug, he withdrew a blank piece of paper from the desk drawer and began to scribble some notes on it.

He worked at the task until well past tea time. Thankfully Starks had prepared a tray for his master, from which Paul had eaten enough to sustain him. He’d finished work on the first file, which now had several sheets of paper added to its contents, and read over the second he’d chosen.

“How in God’s name am I going to make any sense of this point of view?”

He rubbed a hand over his eyes, cursing softly. He closed the file in mild frustration and pushed away from his desk. It was time to get ready for the evening. The thought of Michelle set all the inconvenience and worry of the afternoon away from him.

Whistling, he climbed the stairs to his chamber.

* * * *

Paul’s carriage rocked to a stop in front of Michelle’s home. He stepped out and gave careful attention to his dress, tugging on his cuffs and brushing off his sleeves. He wore his black formal attire with a blue brocade waistcoat and crisp white cravat. He wished to look his best for his future bride. Future bride. Amazing. Glancing up at the impressive home, he thought once more of his financial problems, the matter never far from his mind. Would she be satisfied to live in comfort instead of opulence?

He climbed the steps to the glossy red door and rang the bell, shifting nervously from one booted foot to the other.

The butler opened the door and bowed low to him. Before Paul could ask for Michelle Lady Helen arrived.

“Lord Leed.” Lady Helen smiled. “How wonderful to see you this evening.”

Turning from the servant, he bowed low to Michelle’s mother. “Good evening, Lady Helen. How are you this evening?”

“Just fine, dear,” she answered. “Just fine. You look very handsome, if I may say so.”

He nodded to accept her compliment. “Is Lady Michelle nearly ready?”

“Oh, do let me go see if she—”

“I’m ready, Mother,” Michelle said from the top of the stairs.

Paul turned and looked up then, his eyes widening in appreciation. He watched as she descended, unable to drag his gaze from her. The deep blue gown she wore made her skin more luminous. Her sapphire pendant drew his eyes to the swell of her bosom. The stone was nearly the size of his thumb. He blinked and brought his gaze back up to her face as Michelle reached the bottom of the stairs.

“Hello, Michelle,” he said with a bow.

“Good evening, Paul,” she returned, her lips curved in a smile.

He took her hand in his and tugged her gently toward him. He placed a kiss on her cheek, brushing his lips against her ear as he did so. “You look incredible, love.”

She blushed at the compliment, a fetching pink color spreading from the swell of her beautiful bosom to the roots of her fiery hair. Mmm. He was suddenly reminded of her mother’s presence when the woman cleared her throat.

He straightened, turning once more to Lady Helen.

“Go on, you two,” she instructed. “Have a pleasant evening.”

Paul and Michelle both nodded and bade her good evening, taking their leave. On the sidewalk outside, Paul held her hand fast. She glanced at him in mild curiosity as his eyes roamed over her.

“What is it, Paul?” she asked, running her hands over her skirt. “Is something wrong?”

“My God, Michelle,” he said in a low voice. “I daresay it’s a good thing we have such a short ride this evening.”

She wore an expression of coyness, but he knew better. “And what would we do if the ride were a bit longer?”

He grinned wickedly at her and she laughed. He handed her up into the carriage and climbed in to sit beside her. Turning quickly toward her, he cupped her face in his hands. His lips brushed hers in a gentle kiss.

He pulled back and smiled at her. “I couldn’t wait another moment to do that.”

She let out a little breath in answer. He settled back against the cushion and held her hand in his as the carriage pulled away from the curb and rolled on toward the party.

When they arrived, the bash was well underway. Paul and Michelle greeted their hostess and joined the other revelers in the ballroom. They’d just stepped down into the room when they found themselves surrounded by Paul’s friends.

“Leed,” one man said. “Where on earth have you been?”

“Yes,” another cut in. “Are you going to make the introductions?”

Paul grinned and nodded toward Michelle. “I am certain you’re all well-acquainted with Lady Michelle Thomas.”

“Ah, yes,” another of the men put in, taking Michelle’s hand in his. “This lovely lady has long been admired among the
ton
.”

Michelle smiled shyly as the man placed a kiss on her hand. She gently pulled out of the man’s grasp to reach for Paul.

“Have we heard correctly, Leed?” the first man asked. “Has this beautiful creature consented to be your bride?”

Michelle blushed at all the attention, her hand now resting firmly in the crook of Paul’s elbow. She stood beside him as he accepted their congratulations with a broad smile.

“Leed,” a familiar voice called. “There you are!”

Lord Chester joined the group of well-wishers.

“Good evening, Chester,” Paul said with a smile.

Chester bowed to Michelle and turned back to Paul. “Your sisters have been driving me quite mad.”

“Oh?” Paul asked. “Where—?”

“Paul!” Catherine squealed from where she stood across the room. She hurried over to the couple, her blue eyes sparkling. “Oh, Paul!” she gushed. “Lady Michelle!”

Michelle was enveloped in the girl’s arms. She returned Catherine’s embrace, accepting her kisses on her cheek. Elizabeth soon joined them, her brown curls bouncing as she jumped up and down. “A sister! Oh, we never thought Paul would ever marry!”

“That’s quite enough for the moment, I daresay,” Paul said at last.

“All right, dear brother,” Catherine said.

“Oh, Lady Michelle,” Elizabeth began with a smile, “when father told us the good news this morning, you could have knocked us over with a feather.”

“Come, sister,” Catherine said. “This gossip is too sweet not to share!”

The girls expressed their happy surprise again, finally leaving the couple in relative peace.

Paul led Michelle over to the row of chairs set up away from the orchestra and bade her to sit. “Would you like a bit of refreshment, love?”

“Love.” She still gave a little thrill when he called her by the endearment. “Yes, thank you.”

She watched him as he crossed the room, admiring the dashing figure he cut in his formal wear. She’d touched that fit body last night, had sensed the power beneath those fine clothes.

Movement caught her attention and she turned to the man now standing before her. She recognized him as the man she’d spoken with at a previous bash, the lanky gentleman with the unfortunate stutter.

“L-lady Michelle,” he began. “S-so good to see you here.”

“Hello, Lord Burns,” she said with a smile.

“Is it t-true?” he asked, sitting down beside her. “Have you b-been plucked from the m-marriage market?”

Michelle frowned at his statement even as she recognized the truth in it. She managed a smile, keeping her opinion to herself. “I don’t know if one can—”

“You know, m-my dear,” the man cut in, trailing his finger over her arm. “Now that you’re s-spoken for, perhaps we c-can come to a l-little arrangement.”

Her eyes widened, a scathing retort bubbling to find its way out. The man misinterpreted her shock for interest and leaned closer.

“It’s rumored the viscount is a b-bit strapped for funds,” he whispered. “I c-can keep you in l-luxuries, Michelle.”

She bristled at the man’s insinuations. How dare he say such things! She opened her mouth to give voice to what precisely she thought of his proposal when Paul rejoined her, two glasses of punch in his hands. He glared at the man.

“Burns,” he said, his voice a low rumble.

Lord Burns stood then, a false smile on his thin face. “L-leed. I was merely giving m-my regards to your lovely bride-to-be. And c-congratulations to you, of course.”

Paul’s eyes narrowed. “Thank you.”

“I do hope you will give adequate attention to the other draws on your time.”

Paul schooled his expression as he gave a curt nod to the gentleman, making his intent quite clear. With a bow to Michelle, Lord Burns took his hurried leave.

Paul handed her a glass of punch. “Michelle, what else did that weasel say to you?”

She gave a small laugh.

“What is so funny?” he asked, a slight frown on his face.

“He does look like a weasel,” she said. “To what other draws on your time did the weasel Burns refer, Paul?”

“Nothing, love.” He handed her a glass of punch and sipped from his own. “Nothing.”

Michelle saw Burns watching them from the other side of the room, but kept further questions to herself. For now.