Reason to Wed (The Distinguished Rogues Book 7) (3 page)

“She has and I’m very grateful,” he murmured. “As you might imagine, Avery is no help at all.”

Harriet dipped her face low, staring at his cravat as they danced, leaving Richard a clear view over her head. His brother stood on the sidelines chatting to Lady Small, a woman recently widowed and uninvolved. When they passed the pair by, Harriet sighed heavily. “I can believe it.”

Was Avery’s attention to the widow the cause of her low mood? If so, he wouldn’t blame the woman for being put out. Avery should have asked Harriet to dance, since he’d been the one to invite her to the house party in the first place. “Avery’s head is always turned by a pretty face, but it never stays there,” he said, hoping to soothe Harriet’s disappointment.

“But it turns so often it begs the question will he ever stop looking elsewhere first,” Harriet replied in a voice edged with resignation.

“I don’t know,” he answered honestly. It was a pity Avery hadn’t settled down with Harriet. The woman was good for him, but Avery wasn’t exactly the most committed man to any woman. He and Avery were poles apart in nature and attitude on that score. Avery was wild. Richard had responsibilities he couldn’t shirk much longer. He needed an heir.

He changed the subject. “Have you everything you need in your room?”

“Yes, the room is as comfortable as ever. Thank you. I’ve always enjoyed coming to Windermere each year.” She frowned. “But I have not seen Mr. and Mrs. Adrian Hill as yet. Are they visiting too this year?”

“They arrived not half an hour ago. They stopped on the journey in Berkeley, and Carolyn appears quite done in. I suggested they skip the party but Adrian assured me they would join us soon.”

“She’s a woman with child, or was when she last wrote to me, so the journey would have tired her,” Harriet murmured, her gaze drawn across the floor to where Avery now danced enthusiastically with a red-faced Lady Small. She stared then shook her head. “Would you excuse me, and from our next dance too? I urgently need to speak with Carolyn.”

“Yes, of course I don’t mind. By all means, seek them out.” Richard escorted Harriet from the floor before the dance ended and followed her progress as she weaved through the crowd and swiftly disappeared.

While he rejoiced at the news his cousin’s wife would have a third child, he was also swept up in a wave of sadness. No wonder Hill had supported his wife on the stairs. He was looking out for his growing family.

The one that will replace mine and take the title from us if we don’t father our offspring first.

Richard swallowed his bitter pill of resignation and went in search of a worthy distraction to dull the ache of wanting a son to follow after him.

Maybe he should try the wishing tree at least once, just to be sure lack of faith, for want of a better term, wasn’t the only problem with him.

Three

Esme searched the remaining public rooms for Meriwether, but she found no sign of him. Disappointed and more than a bit put out from the fruitless chase, she retraced her steps to the ballroom and mingled with the crowd while admiring the dancers twirling beneath Windermere’s triple chandeliers.

Although asked more than once to take a turn upon the floor, she declined the invitations. She wasn’t in the mood for that kind of dancing. She’d much rather do something more intimate and invigorating and in private with her lover.

She huffed out a breath.
If he could be persuaded to stay by my side long enough.

Her favorite footman in Lord Windermere’s employ, a young brother to her indispensible Penny, appeared and presented her with a glass of blessedly cold champagne.

“Thank you, Pip,” she murmured as she gratefully sipped her drink. “Did you manage to spend any time with your sister yet?”

“Not much, my lady,” he whispered back.

The preparations for tonight’s ball generally involved all the staff and allowed little time for any servant to stand around idly chatting, even to a member of their own family. Pip and Penny Bradshaw were all the family they had, and they’d been apart a year. “Tomorrow will be easier for Penny. I will sleep late so you’ll have ample time to catch up in the morning.”

“You’re very generous, my lady.”

She winked. “Anything to prevent your sister sighing so loudly when she misses you when we leave again. Anyone would think you’d gone off to war instead of gaining a position in a beautiful country estate like this.”

He smothered a laugh, for he knew his sister’s habit of wild exaggeration all too well, and then turned away to continue serving the guests champagne.

Esme was very proud of how the young man had turned out. Pip had spent a few months in her home under the tutelage of her senior staff, acquiring the polish to gain himself a better position than she could offer. He’d been successful in winning over Windermere’s staff and gained employment as a footman, but she knew his ambition was for a butler’s position to make his sister proud.

Esme made her way to Lady Small’s side, where she stood alone, clapping along as a dance ended. “Quite the gathering, isn’t it, my dear? Did you by chance notice where Harriet went? I have not seen her for a while.”

Lady Small’s expression was one of sour disapproval. “I expect she is entertaining Lord Avery Hill in his bedchamber by now.”

More than likely.
“You disapprove?”

“Indeed I do.” Lady Small shivered. “Do you know what that man dared suggest to me? I’m in utter shock still.”

Lord Avery Hill had a penchant for speaking bluntly of his sexual adventures and appetite. Some women liked that sort of thing, others not so much. “That often happens when one speaks to him for the first time,” Esme informed her in all seriousness. “Consider it a test of character. I’m sure he will not be so brazen again.”

“It’s scandalous,” Lady Small hissed. “And to suggest a dalliance with someone else in the room too.”

Ah, he’d suggested a ménage a trois. “Each to their own.” Esme shrugged. “Don’t make up your mind that you won’t like something until you’ve at least tried it once.”

Lady Small stared at her in shock. “I don’t think so.”

“You might be pleasantly surprised by the experience,” she murmured. Esme had tried, but preferred to be the center of attention for one man only.

The crowd quieted suddenly and she looked about them in surprise. The quartet that had been playing in competition with the crowd’s noise trilled a few notes and fell silent too. All the guests faced the far side of the room, and since a broad, masculine back blocked her view, Esme stepped up beside the man, noticing belatedly that Lord Windermere had been close enough to likely eavesdrop on her conversation with Lady Small.

A hearty male voice called for attention and Esme stretched to see who dared interrupt the dancing. Sir Jeffrey Follows, a local knight who’d joined them for several dinners in past years, kept clearing his throat rather importantly. “If I could have your attention please,” he said at last. “It gives me great pleasure to announce that Mr. Albert Meriwether has asked for my daughter, Jane’s, hand in marriage, and I have given them my blessing. He shall marry our darling girl before the month is out.”

Esme froze as everyone else clapped, unable to believe what she’d heard. Meriwether smiled at Jane with a satisfied expression on his face.

The heartless scoundrel. How could he stand there as his marriage was announced without warning her first?

“I guess he wasn’t yours after all,” Lady Small whispered in her ear cruelly.

Esme fumed. How could he embarrass her in such a way? He had never hinted he was involved with any other lady and certainly never mentioned a wish to marry. If he had, she’d never have slept with him. By morning she would be the laughingstock of the entire house party.

Windermere held out his arm. “A good match,” he mused aloud. “Come, my dear Esme. Shall we toast the happy match in private?”

Although surprised by Windermere’s support at such a moment, she was grateful for the lifeline he offered. She needed to get out of the room before she said or did something she’d regret. She could not wish Meriwether happiness. Not in her current temper. She needed a good excuse to slip away and give vent to her irritation in private.

She placed her arm through Lord Windermere’s and allowed him to lead her from the room, satisfied beyond reason when they passed Lady Small. The woman stood with her mouth agape.

When they reached the entrance hall, he squeezed her hand and glanced around. “Almost out of earshot. Just a bit farther. Did I show you the new paintings in my bedchamber?”

His question cut straight through her anger. She raised her eyes to his. “I’ve never visited your bedchamber before, Windermere, and you know it.”

He grinned. “Then you must come. Multiple times, I think.”

She drew away from him. “Don’t imagine—”

His expression turned serious and he chivvied her up the staircase. “It’s the fastest way to cut off spiteful gossip. If we are both noticeably absent for a while, there’s something else for my guests to talk about. Deprive them of their fun at your expense with a different tale of conquest.”

“You knew about him?”

He took her arm and sped her up the next flight of stairs. “Not about the marriage. That caught me by surprise, and I would have spoken of it if I’d had any inkling. I must say I am not unhappy about it. The damned fool was hardly deserving of your intimate company.”

She reached the next landing before her head cleared enough to consider the right reply. “And you believe you deserve me?”

“Oh, no.” He laughed and released her. “I fully expect you to toss me over as early as tomorrow. I’ll make a long face while you can claim my arrogance off-putting or something harmless. A few well-told exaggerations and all will be well.”

Esme glanced around to confirm they were alone. “Why would you do this for me?”

He sighed and set his hands behind his back while leaning forward a little to look her in the eye. “Because I remember that you once tried to prevent me from looking foolish, and I appreciate that.”

“You are not making sense, sir.”

He drew close to her ear, his breath hot against her skin. “Wouldn’t you rather have your revenge on Meriwether without risk? Would an affair with me tweak his nose?”

What Windermere suggested had merits, and if there was no risk involved…

He smiled wickedly as he drew back. “It is clear you expected the house party to proceed in the normal fashion. I thought Meriwether understood your rules. You rather famously don’t dally with married men, or engaged-to-be-married men, so his assumption shows a distinct misunderstanding of your character. He should have warned you of the impending wedding announcement and didn’t. That makes him not particularly admirable in my book. Come with me, let other’s believe we’ve patched up our differences in bed. I cannot believe I invited him.”

“Why
did
you invite him?”

“To make
you
happy, I thought.” He tilted his head to the side. “Now, instead, I think we shall have fun at his expense.”

“You seem to have a knack for revenge.”

He winked. “It is a spur-of-the-moment feeling, encouraged by your long face. We would not have to actually be intimate. Only my guests need to be convinced we are.”

Esme forced a smile to her face, but it was a brittle thing. Windermere’s plan would help her save face, and if he did not expect intimacies then their relationship would remain the same. For a change, the man made sense. “Where might your chambers be located?”

“I thought you’d never ask.” He linked their arms, drawing her closer to his side, a wicked smile playing across his lips. “This way. I claimed this part of the east wing after the redecoration last year. My brother and sister claimed everything else.”

That was a lot of manor house to have given up. “Surely not.”

He opened a door to her with a short bow. “Well, perhaps I exaggerate just a touch. A man must be allowed some idiosyncrasies.”

“You have more than a few.” Esme stepped into his apartment and gasped at the Spartan interior. She had heard some people enjoyed uncluttered spaces, but Windermere’s sitting room was bare and his bedchamber, when she reached it, held only a bed. There were no looking glasses to be found on the walls. No small furniture of any kind. Just one huge bed and a blazing fire that sent flickering light to all corners of the room.

She turned to regard Lord Windermere curiously. She’d never imagined him a frugal man.

His smile was a touch uncertain. “I prowl about in my sleep and crash into things.”

Esme frowned. Now
that
she hadn’t heard about him. “Really?”

“Unfortunately, yes. I’d offer you a chair if I had one, but won’t you make yourself at home?” He indicated the bed was where she should sit and with no other options available, Esme perched on the edge. Windermere loosened his cravat. “I feel compelled to apologize. I had no idea about Jane and Meriwether, though he was much in her company yesterday, come to think of it. Jane is sweet enough in her own way, but I’m rather annoyed that they announced the marriage without a word of warning or even asking my permission. I’ve no interest in turning my house party ball into their engagement celebration. I find that extremely presumptuous.”