Society's Most Disreputable Gentleman (23 page)

Her heart's desire—had she truly found it in London? Or might she just have watched it walk out the library door?

 

Later that evening, Amanda took her place beside Lady Parnell to greet their guests. Candles illumined the room with a golden glow, enticing odours emanated from the supper room, and every immaculate, waxed and polished inch of the public rooms was reflected a million times over by silver trays, sparkling goblets and crystal chandeliers. But as she stared across the room, a smile pinned to her lips, Amanda saw none of it.

The evening was to be the triumphant culmination of her presentation, with everyone who was anyone answering Lady Parnell's summons to honour her ward. Conscious of the honour—to say nothing of the expense and effort her hostess had expended—Amanda tried to focus on greeting each guest. But as the hour grew later, she found her smile becoming more and more automatic, her attention wandering as her eyes darted towards the entry.

Mr Anders had told her he was leaving London. There wasn't the slightest chance he would attend the ball tonight. Still, knowing he was still in town, she couldn't seem to keep herself from hoping that, just maybe, he would appear.

An urgent sense of expectation rose with each new visitor, then fell as Kindle announced a name that was not Greville's. Absently she agreed to save Lord Trowbridge and Mr Hillyard each a waltz, glad now that her duties receiving guests prevented either from being able to whisk her away for dancing or refreshments.

Midway through the evening, he still had not come. Lady Parnell had just told her she was released from her duties when
a tall, dark-haired gentleman appeared, a golden-haired lady on his arm and Kindle intoned, ‘The Marquess and Marchioness of Englemere.'

A shock zipping through her, Amanda jerked her gaze to the doorway. It took only an instant to ascertain that Greville had not accompanied his cousin.

Still, this was the man who had arranged for him to stay at Ashton Grove. Another bolt of excitement energised her. He'd told her he'd come to London to consult with his cousin. Perhaps the marquess might know more about his future plans.

After greetings were exchanged, Lord Englemere said, ‘My heartiest thanks to you, Miss Neville, for your hospitality to my cousin, Mr Anders. He seems to have made a very good recovery, which I attribute to your family's good care.'

‘You are most welcome. I understand Mr Anders just visited you.' At the marquess's look of surprise, she added hastily, ‘He paid me a brief call this morning. To give me a report about my father's improving health.'

Englemere exchanged a quick glance with his wife. ‘Yes, Greville visited us as well. We'd hoped to induce him to spend a few days, but he seemed quite anxious to get on with his affairs.'

Though conscious of Lady Parnell's raised eyebrow, for it was not usual to detain guests in a reception line, Amanda couldn't help asking, ‘You were advising him, he said. About the possible purchase of some property?'

‘My dear,' Lady Englemere said to her husband, ‘other guests are waiting to speak with our hostess. Lady Parnell, would you mind if we kidnapped your lovely ward for a few moments?'

‘Not at all. I was about to release her anyway,' her sponsor replied politely, her puzzled gaze following them as Amanda walked away.

‘Did Mr Anders tell you anything about his service aboard the
Illustrious
?' Englemere asked.

Wondering what that had to do with Greville's future, Amanda said, ‘He recounted some amusing incidents.'

‘Nothing about his own service?'

‘Not in detail. He told Papa most of it wasn't fit for a maiden's ears.'

Englemere laughed. ‘Just as I thought. Mr Anders is quite the hero, Miss Neville! A few weeks ago, we had the opportunity to host his commanding officer, Captain Harrington. The captain sang his praises, especially his courage during the battle with privateers. He credited Mr Anders with saving both his life and that of his first officer.'

‘I knew he'd been wounded in the action, but—why, he never said a word!' Amanda exclaimed.

Englemere chuckled. ‘My cousin seems to have become a modest man, as well as a responsible one. For his efforts during that skirmish, he will be receiving a significant sum of prize money. He wished to have my advice on purchasing an estate to manage, an occupation for which your father has been giving him valuable experience and advice.'

‘Where do you think he intends to purchase property?' she asked.

By now, Lady Englemere was looking at her as curiously as Lady Parnell had. Amanda knew she'd already passed from polite enquiry to an inquisitiveness that bordered on the ill mannered. But she couldn't seem to help herself, so driven was she to discover as much as she could about him.

‘That has yet to be determined.'

‘I see,' she said in a small voice. So there was no telling where in England he might end up. ‘Perhaps he will settle not too far distant from Ashton Grove,' she said without much hope. As far as she knew, there weren't any properties for sale
in the neighbourhood. ‘I know Papa would enjoy continuing their association.'

‘I'm sure your father—and you—will encounter him often,' Lady Englemere said evenly.

Amanda murmured a polite assent, but she didn't believe it. With the Navy Board releasing him, he'd leave as soon as Papa recovered, which, she devoutly hoped, would occur long before her Season ended. By the time she went back to Ashton, he would be gone.

She might well never see him again.

As desolation chilled her to the soul, Mr Hillyard appeared, claiming her for the waltz she'd promised. Repeating the familiar politenesses by rote, she took leave of Englemere and his wife, and numbly let Hillyard lead her away.

 

Anxious to be on his way and back at Ashton Grove, at first light Greville rode out of London. Travelling by horseback, he hoped to reach Blenhem Hill within a few days and return to Devon in no more than a week.

Leaving early also removed the temptation to call again upon Amanda Neville—senseless as that action would be. Finding her alone, a circumstance he hadn't anticipated, he'd seized the chance to ask the only question that mattered: whether the world she'd dreamed of entering had fulfilled her expectations. The enthusiasm on her face when she replied had been unmistakable.

She was well on her way to establishing herself in the position to which she'd always aspired, a hostess in a social realm that would never be his. Assured of her happiness, there'd been no need to say any more, to embarrass them both confessing a love that would make no difference. All that remained was to say goodbye, and he had.

His head understood all that. But for most of the long ride to Blenhem Hill, his heart resisted accepting it.

 

Other feelings surfaced as he neared the scene of his ill-fated employment. After the wrongs that had been visited upon the tenants while he sat in the manor house, arrogant self-indulgence blinding him to the abuse and embezzlement going on right under his nose, he suspected he might have been run out of Blenhen Hill, if Barksdale hadn't knocked him over the head and whisked him away in the dead of night.

He doubted anyone around the estate would be pleased to see him. It would take determined effort, probably over a long period of time, to win back the respect of the people he'd failed to serve.

Such worthwhile and necessary work would keep his mind from drifting back to memories of Amanda Neville, he thought, ignoring the little voice that reminded him hard work had not yet produced that result. Some day, he trusted, he'd be able to think of her with an affection no longer laced with the acid of anguish.

After skirting the town of Hazelwick, he took the familiar road towards Blenhem Hill, noting with recently acquired expertise that many of the cottages were newly thatched, fences had been rebuilt of timber and stone, and most all of the fields were already ploughed. He passed several farms with workers about, a few even greeting him by name.

They hadn't thrown rocks, at least.

Then he was pulling up his horse before the manor house. Somewhat to his surprise, the butler greeted him cordially, showed him to the parlour and promised to fetch his sister immediately. He barely had time to pace across the parlour, noting it was in its usual perfect order, when Joanna hurried in.

‘Greville!' she cried, delight on her face. ‘How good it is to see you—and looking so well!'

‘All thanks to you, sister dear. I would otherwise still
be painfully crawling back to health whilst holystoning the quarterdeck.'

‘Thanks to cousin Nicky as well. But, here comes Ned. I can't wait for you to meet my husband!'

Not certain the man who'd had to repair Greville's mistakes would be in any hurry to meet
him
, he prepared himself for some hard scrutiny.

Greaves had taken good care of his sister, too, Greville noted. Jo had always been a pretty lass, but now her pale skin and green eyes positively glowed. The tender look that passed between husband and wife as Sir Edward entered made him ache with longing and envy.

After the requisite introductions, Sir Edward said, ‘We're delighted to see you, especially as it must mean you are feeling hale again.'

‘I am. More important than that, however, I understand congratulations are in order.'

‘Thank you,' Joanna replied, her glow increasing as her husband pressed her hand. Greville suppressed another pang. Would he ever have a loving wife, a son to whom he could pass down the estate he planned to acquire? Such a prospect now seemed as remote as the moon.

‘Ned says Lord Englemere has sorted matters out with the Admiralty,' his sister said. ‘I do hope that means the Coastal Brigade can spare you for a visit.'

‘I'm afraid not. Unfortunately, my kind host, Lord Bronning, recently suffered an attack and was ordered to bed.'

‘Good heavens!' Sir Edward cried. ‘Is he doing better? He will recover, I trust.'

‘He is making steady progress, but in the interim, I've been assisting him on the estate. Learning a great deal…about things I should have known while I was here.'

He'd given Sir Edward a perfect opening, but his sister's husband only said mildly, ‘There could be no better teacher.'

Some of Greville's tension eased. Though Sir Edward was perfectly entitled to take Greville to task, apparently he did not intend to do so.

Despite Sir Edward's forbearance, Greville felt compelled to continue, ‘Still, I must apologise—to you and especially the tenants. Barksdale might have inflicted the actual injuries, but I allowed it to happen.'

Sir Edward nodded. ‘It sounds as if you've experienced a sea change indeed.'

Greville smiled wryly. ‘After my time aboard the
Illustrious
, I'm as different now from the man who left these shores as the English Channel is from the Bay of Marrakesh.'

‘What will you do when you are released?' Jo asked.

‘I hope you might help with that, Sir Edward. With the prize money coming to me and a bit I inherited, I'd like to purchase a place of my own. Lord Englemere told me that, as you own a number of properties, you might be persuaded to sell me Blenhem Hill.'

Sir Edward considered him for a long moment. ‘So you can make restitution to the tenants personally. I've enjoyed my time at Blenhem—how could I not, when it brought me my dear wife?' he said, giving Joanna's hand another squeeze. ‘But I do have extensive properties elsewhere I need to attend.'

‘Oh, my dear, having Greville take over the Blenhem would be the most marvellous solution!' Joanna inserted. ‘You were saying just today that you should leave soon to tour your other holdings, and must find someone to take over here.'

‘So I was. Let me think on it, Mr Anders. I'm sure we can come to an agreement.'

‘You will stay a few days, Greville? For a visit, and so you and Ned can work out the details about Blenhem Hill?'

He'd intended to resume his journey the very next morning, but in the face of his sister's appeal, that resolve faltered. ‘Two days, then,' he replied.

‘You're looking tired, sweetheart,' Greaves said to his wife. ‘Why don't you have Myles show your brother to his room, and then rest before dinner?'

Joanne tried, and failed, to stifle a yawn. ‘This business of making heirs is very fatiguing,' she admitted. ‘Very well, I'll go rest. Until dinner, Greville.'

Sir Edward returned to work while the butler showed Greville up to his chamber. Gazing out the window at the ploughed fields in the distance, Greville felt a glow of pride and anticipation.

It felt right, somehow, to begin anew here. He would work hard, learn well and some day soon, be able to look tenants in the eye, knowing he had made their tasks easier. He'd become a landlord like Jo's husband Ned and Amanda's father Lord Bronning, respected and admired for his expertise and his enlightened care of the land.

Maybe he'd even look for that borough to represent and serve in the Commons.

Might he some day sit down at Amanda's table as a leader of government, working to better the nation?

If enough years passed—many, many years—perhaps he might some day gaze upon her lovely face again without the agonising sense of loss now scouring his heart.

T
he same afternoon Greville arrived at Blenhem Hill, Amanda found herself walking in the mild spring sunshine with Lord Trowbridge, who had prevailed upon her sponsor to allow him to escort her around her ladyship's garden. Fearing she knew what he intended and desperate to avoid being forced to a decision, she'd tried to demur, only to have Lady Parnell, with a broad wink at Trowbridge, practically push her from the room.

Strolling on Trowbridge's arm down well-tended gravel paths between bare-branched shrubs and bulbs that scattered a fairy dust of whites, yellows and pinks over the beds, Amanda tried to maintain a constant flow of amusing conversation. But by the time they'd made one full circuit, she'd run out of polite chat. Her heart thumping harder than a maid beating dust from a carpet, she fell silent, a rising panic tightening her chest and preventing her from managing another syllable.

Trowbridge reached for her hand. ‘I'm as nervous as you look,' he confessed. ‘I've never before asked a lady to walk in the garden with me.'

She felt a little faint. ‘So you didn't bring me here to discuss your concerns over the Royal Marriages?'

He laughed. ‘Not royal ones,' he replied, sending another stab of anxiety through her.

Before she could try to forestall him with another light remark, he squeezed her hand. ‘You can't tell me you're surprised. My attentions have been too marked. Indeed, I understand wagers are being made about our wedding date in the betting books at White's as we speak.'

Amanda felt as if the air were being squeezed out of her chest. ‘Don't you think we should get to know each other better, before we have the talk I think you want to have?'

‘What else is there to know? What I've observed of you and I hope what you've observed of me shows we both possess good character and high ideals. You have a strong interest in the affairs of our nation—by no means a common concern for a young lady! To that useful trait, you add every attribute a man could wish for in a wife: beauty, intelligence, skill with people. In turn, I can offer you not just wealth and ease, but an opportunity to play an important part in the political life. You'll command my respect, tenderness and devotion. I can't think of another lady in London whom I'd be prouder to have on my arm as I welcome guests to my home.'

Respect…tenderness…devotion. Pride, to have her on his arm. She thought of Hillyard's comment about trophies…and about the man she wanted coming to her at night.

‘What of…warmer feelings?' she asked, her palms beginning to sweat.

He gave her a look that did not disguise his desire. ‘I may not advertise it by profligate living, but I have passion enough, I assure you. Or are you referring to what is commonly called “falling in love”?'

He shook his head. ‘I'm afraid I discount the emotion. Since those friends who claim to have succumbed to it generally
regret the experience, it seems to me a madness best avoided. No, a successful marriage, I believe, should be founded on respect, mutual interests, and a pure and lasting affection.'

A madness best avoided.
Reflecting upon the chaos into which her feelings for Greville Anders so often tossed her, perhaps he was right.

‘True, we've not known each other long, so perhaps you have reason for believing you don't yet know me well enough,' he continued. ‘I admit to being impatient. A lady as lovely and unique as you, my dear, attracts a great deal of notice, and I couldn't bear to have the prize I value so highly claimed by someone else.'

Is that all she was to him…a prize to be claimed, another valuable possession to embellish his home?

When she remained silent, unable to dredge out the proper words about being honoured and gratified, he continued, a bit anxiously, ‘I hope you don't think badly of me for recognising what I want and pursuing it boldly. If you feel I'm being too precipitous, I'm willing to wait. I'll not press you for an answer immediately. Talk with your father first, if you want, and when you're ready, I'll call on him.'

He gave her a wry smile. ‘Perhaps you're offended that I'm addressing you without first obtaining his permission. Understandably, I think, I didn't wish to make the journey to Ashton Grove unless I was certain of obtaining
your
consent. I'll not entreat you further, but simply hope we will soon come to an understanding that will make me the happiest man in England.'

Taking her numb hands, he kissed them, then looked ardently into her eyes.

Did he want to claim her lips? While she stood irresolute, torn between curiosity and a desire to flee, he bent and kissed her.

A soft, gentle brush of the mouth, made with no demands.
A shiver went through her, whether of unease or satisfaction she couldn't tell.

Then his hands clutched her shoulders and he kissed her again, his tongue tasting her lips briefly before releasing her. ‘I'll show you much more passion than that, once you give me the right,' he said, his voice rough. ‘Now I'd better get you back before Lady Parnell sends Kindle after us.'

He offered her his arm, resuming his discussion of the impediments the tangled finances of Royal Dukes were creating in the matter of their marriages. Her thoughts scattered, she barely heard him.

 

Somehow she made it through the rest of the afternoon, chatting with other guests until calling hours concluded. The moment she could, ignoring Lady Parnell's enquiring look, she fled to her room.

Too restless to sit, she stood at the window, gazing out at London streets and rooftops, feeling a pang of longing for the green fields and windswept Devon coastline whose intensity would have astonished her only a few months previous.

What was she to do, now that she'd received the declaration she'd dreaded?

Accept him, and the landscape outside her window would be her new home. She would achieve everything Mama and Grandmama had dreamed of for her: guarantee herself a life of affluence and ease, obtain an important position in society and become an active participant in helping her husband shape their nation.

He would be a husband who esteemed and admired her, who wanted her standing beside him, wanted to show her off as one more beautiful ornament in his home. One who, though he desired her, didn't believe in nor wish to experience the mad, illogical abandon of the senses that came with falling in love.

Except, she was very much afraid she had already experienced it.

She touched her lips. Trowbridge's kiss had been…pleasant. It didn't sear and burn and make her want to wrap herself around him, pull his hands to her breasts and have him bury himself deep within her.

In fact, when he'd kissed her again, she'd almost backed away, as if what he sought belonged to another.

Was she an idiot? She wasn't even sure if the man who'd created such havoc in her heart and mind spared her a thought. He'd saved only a few moments out of his visit to London to spend with her, and then spoke almost nothing of himself, as if he didn't think she needed to know much about his future.

Had their interlude at Ashton Grove been for him merely a pleasant flirtation to pass the time, and the episode in the Neville Tour just a virile man happy to oblige a maiden who'd shown herself more wanton than she should be?

Even if it had meant more, he'd made it quite plain he had no interest in London or the affairs of state. She smiled, recalling how he'd tweaked Trowbridge as his father's ‘assistant' when he defended the valour of the common sailor.

Was she truly contemplating turning her back on the city, wealth and the position in the political world she'd dreamed of since childhood to run after a man who might not even want her?

And what of Papa? With his recovery still uncertain, he'd steeled himself to send her to London anyway, so she might fulfil her dream. Would he turn from her in disgust if she threw away every advantage her family and Lady Parnell had worked to give her to choose a man who wished only to be a simple country gentleman?

Her stubborn heart insisted what they'd shared had been more than flirtation, more than obliging lust. Insisted, before she made the irrevocable decision to choose esteem over love
and satisfaction over passion, she must find out for certain how Greville Anders felt about her.

By now, her head was throbbing. In the midst of the turmoil, she knew only one thing for certain. Some time tonight, she would tell Lady Parnell that she wanted to go home.

 

After greeting her hostess in the parlour before their dinner guests arrived, Amanda fell silent, not sure how to tell Lady Parnell she wished to leave at the height of the Season without seeming ungrateful for all that lady had done for her.

‘You seem pensive, my dear.'

‘Lord Trowbridge told me he intends to make a formal offer,' she blurted out.

‘Wonderful!' Lady Parnell exclaimed. ‘I'm so happy for you! It's what you've always wanted, isn't it? Oh, your dear mama would be so pleased!'

‘Except…I'm not so sure it's still what I want,' she admitted. ‘Oh, I have enjoyed London, especially the political evenings here and at Lady Ravensfell's and Lady Holland's. They were stimulating, exciting and I loved every minute.'

‘That's a foretaste of what your life would be, if you married Trowbridge. His character and understanding are excellent, and it's clear he cares for you. My dear, you can hardly do better than an earl's son. Why the hesitation?'

‘It's just…my heart is not totally engaged. He seemed to say that love would come later, a deepening of mutual respect and affection. Can that be true?'

Lady Parnell frowned, clearly not pleased by Amanda's unexpected indecision. ‘Not everyone experiences falling in love. My own marriage was arranged by my family, but I came to esteem my husband very much, and miss him still. Besides, quite frankly, “love” may be well and good, but there are much more important considerations in wedlock. Money. Property. Family connections.'

Amanda knew so little of the world. Would mutual respect and admiration last longer, be more likely to make her happy, than the extremes of passionate emotion Greville evoked in her?

‘Is there…someone else?'

Startled out of her musing, Amanda jerked her head up to find Lady Parnell's thoughtful gaze resting on her.

‘The fact that you are not falling for the charms of Lucien Trowbridge makes me wonder if you left a beau in the country, someone who still holds a claim upon your heart.'

After a moment's hesitation, Amanda confessed, ‘Yes, there is someone.'
Ah, how good it felt to finally admit that!
‘I hoped to meet a gentleman in London I could like just as well, but I haven't.' She gave a pained laugh. ‘To make it worse, I don't even know if he really wants me. Or if Papa would approve the match if he did.'

Lady Parnell's frown deepened. ‘Is he that ineligible?'

‘He's a gentleman's son, but cannot boast the wealth or title of Lord Trowbridge. Nor has he any aspirations to play a role in the political arena.'

Lady Parnell shook her head. ‘Be very careful, my dear. I've seen a handful of misses make the mistake of believing passion a sufficient substitute for a substantial income and a secure future. I assure you, it is not.'

She took a restless turn about the room, while Amanda stood silent, anguished at having displeased the lady whose approval meant so much to her.

Lady Parnell stopped and turned back to her. ‘Amanda, if you turn down Trowbridge, society will be astounded. The Ravensfells will not take a refusal of their son's suit kindly, and their influence is substantial. There's no guarantee you would ever receive so advantageous an offer again, or one that would gain you entrée into the political world you enjoy. Meaning no disrespect to your father, who is a most estimable gentleman,
I none the less sometimes think your mama regretted settling for a simple country gentleman.'

Not trusting herself to speak, Amanda merely nodded. Then, with a shuddering breath, she said, ‘Would it inconvenience you terribly if I went home to Ashton Grove to talk with Papa?'

‘It's only natural you want to consult him on so important a decision. I'm sure he will advise you to be sensible. Very well, my dear, make your plans. Enough of this, now. Our guests will be arriving any minute.'

‘I'm sorry to have disappointed you,' Amanda said softly, feeling tears sting her eyes.

Lady Parnell sighed and gave her a quick hug. ‘You know I only want the best for you. I just hope you'll temper emotion with prudence. And remember—such opportunities as you have been blessed with occur only once in a lifetime.'

Before Amanda could add more than a thank you, Kindle entered to usher in their first dinner guest, and social duties left her no more time to worry over her future.

As soon as their guests departed, though, she would set Betsy to packing. Greville Anders would be returning to Ashton Grove, and before she distressed Papa by announcing a choice that might pain and disappoint him, she must see Mr Anders again.

 

In the morning three days later, home again in her own chamber, Amanda stood gazing at her reflection in the glass, nervously smoothing her gown before going in to speak with Papa.

To her great disappointment, when she arrived late the previous evening, she'd discovered Greville Anders was not in residence. He'd gone to visit his sister, Sands told her, and hadn't yet returned.

So she would have to talk with Papa without seeing him first. Smoothing the lace of her gown one more time, she began
to pace, wondering just what she should tell him. If she confessed her partiality for Greville, how would Papa react? With disappointment…anger…disgust?

Her thoughts still swung wildly back and forth between putting her feelings aside and meeting everyone's expectations by accepting Trowbridge, and abandoning the secure future he represented to offer herself to Greville Anders.