WANTON (5 page)

He took a long, last, boorish assessment of her shapely torso, then he strolled out. She slammed the door behind him, and he stood, listening, as she spun the key in the lock.

“That went well,” he facetiously muttered to himself.

He tugged on his coat, straightened his shoulders, and walked on.

* * * *

“Must you go so soon?”

“Yes. I’ve only been here a few hours, and I already feel as if I’m choking to death.”

Aaron Drake stared at his brother, Lucas, wishing they were able to converse, but they’d never been close. More and more, Aaron was regretting the distance between them.

“But what will you do in town?”

Lucas shrugged. “What I always do: drink, gamble, and carouse.”

“Don’t you ever get tired of your hedonism?”

“No. You should try it sometime. You might actually discover that it’s possible to have fun. Your life doesn’t have to be all duty and submissive groveling.”

“I don’t grovel.”

“You used to,” Lucas grumbled.

“I like to think I’ve matured.”

“Is little Aaron growing up?”

They were in a rear parlor, having a brandy. Lucas lifted his glass to Aaron in a mock toast.

“I haven’t seen you in two years,” Aaron chided.

“Has it been that long?”

“Yes, and if you leave tonight, it will probably be another two before your next visit, so while you’re here, don’t be an asshole.”

“I’ll try not to be,” Lucas sighed, but Aaron figured Lucas couldn’t maintain a pretense of civility for even a minute.

Aaron remembered a period—when they were both tiny—that they’d gotten on in a grand fashion, but that was so far in the past that it seemed as if it had never happened.

As Aaron had begun to assume his responsibilities as heir to the earldom, they’d lost any sense of the camaraderie they’d once shared. By the time they’d moved into adolescence, the breach had been irreparable.

Lucas was the consummate ingrate and troublemaker. He had a smart mouth and an even smarter attitude, so his relationship with their father had been difficult.

Aaron was Lucas’s exact opposite. Aaron didn’t like to quarrel or bicker, so he was careful to be obedient and polite and cordial. The result was their father lavishing Aaron with praise, with money, with other valuable benefits that had never been offered to Lucas.

Lucas acted as if he wasn’t bothered by the unceasing slights, that he wasn’t bitter, but he couldn’t be completely unaffected. Even Aaron—to whom so much had been given—was occasionally embarrassed by the disparate treatment their father had dished out. “Why won’t you stay for supper?” Aaron asked. “Priscilla and her mother are joining us. I’d like you to meet them.”

Priscilla Cummings was Aaron’s fiancée. They’d been engaged for the prior year and were marrying in September. Claudia Cummings was Priscilla’s mother. She was very snooty, very status conscious, and the notion of having her as his mother-in-law made Aaron break out in a cold sweat.

Though Aaron couldn’t deduce why, he was dying to learn Lucas’s opinion of Priscilla, to have Lucas’s approval.

“I know Priscilla
and
her mother,” Lucas surprised him by saying.

“You do?”

“London is a very small place, Aaron. How could I
not
know them? Claudia has been husband hunting for Priscilla practically since the day Priscilla was born. How did she manage to snag you?”

“Father arranged it.”

“I should have guessed.” Lucas snorted with disgust. “You’re thirty years old. Why did you agree?”

“Why wouldn’t I have? She has all the appropriate attributes to be a countess, and she brings an enormous dowry to the table. Only a fool would have declined such a catch.”

“Priscilla is a
catch
? I’ve never heard that word used to describe her before. Aren’t you afraid you’ll expire from boredom with her as your wife?”

“Why would I?”

“How about because she’s stupid, petty, and cruel, and you don’t have any interests in common?”

“We have plenty in common,” Aaron huffed.

“Name one thing.”

Aaron had to think and think, and ultimately he said, “We like to ride, and we enjoy the theater.”

“Well then, I’m sure you’ll be brilliantly happy.”

Lucas’s sarcasm was back. He’d tried to conceal it, but couldn’t. Aaron nearly scolded him again, but what was the point? His brother was who he was, and it was ridiculous to harp on his bad qualities. It would only make him depart more quickly than he’d planned.

“I’m sure we’ll be happy too,” Aaron replied, “though why you’d judge marital success by the amount of happiness it provides is beyond me. I’m marrying her for her money and property, not her personable traits.”

“Wouldn’t you like to be happy?” Lucas pressed. “Just once in your life?”

“I’m happy now.”

Except as he declared his contentment, a wave of anxiety swirled through him. It occurred every time he pondered his approaching nuptials. It was merely bachelor’s jitters. He was thirty, and Priscilla was eighteen, and he’d been unwed for three decades. The idea of that situation ending was a tad disturbing. That was all.

“What about you?” he inquired, desperate to change the subject.

“What about me?” Lucas answered.

“Father betrothed you again.”

“Yes, to some silly schoolteacher. She’s the second female plaguing me this month.”

“What do you mean?”

“James is getting married.”

James Talbot was Lucas’s childhood mate and army chum, and he was as leery of matrimony as Lucas. The news was quite shocking.

“James is marrying?” Aaron asked.

“Yes, to a woman named Rose Ralston who is also a schoolteacher and who—by the way—I’ve discovered is our cousin.”

“We have a cousin named Rose? She’s been a schoolteacher? She’s marrying James? I can’t figure out which of those facts is the most bizarre.”

“Her mother was Father’s sister.”

“The one who died in Egypt years ago?”

“Yes, and I spent the last two weeks listening to her harangue about how much she hates our family.”

“How could she hate us? She doesn’t even know us.”

“Trust me, she knows enough, and she doesn’t like what she’s learned.”

“My head is spinning from all of this.”

“Don’t let it. She’s not worth fussing over, but I can tell you that after realizing how exhausting a schoolteacher can be, I would never deliberately thrust myself into the company of another one.”

“I’ve never thought females should be educated or employed,” Aaron sagely retorted. “It gives them airs and alters the established system of the universe.”

“My feeling exactly, so Miss Hubbard and Father can go hang for all I care.”

“But if you don’t wed her,” Aaron cautiously said, “I’m worried about how Father will react.”

“Yes, yes,” Lucas snidely interjected, “he’ll disown me and cross my name out of the family Bible and rewrite his will and bar the doors to Sidwell Manor. How is any of that different from how he’s ever behaved toward me?”

“I believe he’s serious this time—and very determined.”

“Father will never bring the union to fruition, and as to his dear Miss Hubbard, she has a very sharp tongue and an even sharper caustic attitude. She can flay some other poor sap with them, for I have no interest in being her victim.”

Lucas pushed himself to his feet. “I’m off to London.”

“Now? It’s already late in the day. Couldn’t you go tomorrow?”

“Miss Hubbard described this residence as a madhouse, and I couldn’t agree more. If I don’t leave at once, I’ll become as deranged as everyone else who lives here.”

“I wish you’d stay.”

“And I wish I had a thousand pounds, but we can’t always get what we want.”

“My wedding is in September. Will you come?”

“Probably not, and mainly because I think you’re making a horrid mistake with Priscilla.”

“Thank you for that vote of confidence.”

“Also, I have to attend James’s wedding in a few weeks. It will be more matrimony than a single fellow should have to tolerate in one summer.”

“I’d like you to stand up with me.”

“Yes, and I’d like a thousand pounds, remember? We can’t always get what we want.”

He walked out, and Aaron listened to him go. Regret washed over Aaron, then a wave of exasperation. Lucas had a way of flustering Aaron so he moped and lamented. If their mother had survived, their life might have been better, but instead, it had wound down its untenable path, burdening Aaron with a distant, impossible father and a corrupt, dissolute brother.

His marriage to Priscilla should have been like a beacon on a hill, offering a refuge from all the insanity he’d endured. But it wasn’t.

Another wave of anxiety shot through him, and he couldn’t bear to examine it too closely. He leapt up and went out to the stables, saddled a horse, and galloped down the road.

Before he sat down to supper with his fiancée and her mother, he needed to clear his head and calm his racing heart. He needed to remind himself why he’d decided it was time to become a married man.

* * * *

“You’re joking.”

“Not at all.”

“But she’s a schoolteacher, George.”

“She
was
a teacher, Claudia. Was. Past tense. She’s now betrothed to my son, and since her antecedents don’t bother me, they shouldn’t bother you either.”

Claudia Cummings smoothed out the frown that had briefly marred her face. Age forty was swiftly approaching, so she couldn’t encourage any wrinkles.

“This is England, George.” She forced herself to sound bored and rational. “There’s no such thing as an unimportant past. She
was
a teacher, which means she will always have been a teacher. What will people think if she’s allowed to join the family?”

“Who cares what they think?”

“I care, and you do too. Don’t pretend otherwise. I’ll never believe you.”

Claudia was an arrogant snob. She admitted it. There was a reason the upper classes had been elevated above the masses, and the two groups oughtn’t to ever mingle.

Everyone had his or her place in the world. Claudia—with her brother being a baron—was on the very top level. A schoolteacher such as Miss Hubbard, who worked to earn a salary, was little more than a servant. She should
serve
Claudia and Priscilla, not wed into their family, and Claudia was gravely insulted that George would plan such an outrage. She didn’t understand why he would.

If there was a person more focused on status and lineage than herself, it was George Drake. With his title so newly given, he was constantly trying to prove himself worthy of his lofty position. If he shackled Lucas to Miss Hubbard, Claudia would be the biggest laughingstock in the kingdom, and it would happen right before Priscilla’s wedding.

Claudia had spent years scheming to land the best husband for Priscilla. She’d have liked to have had a duke, but dukes were in short supply, so she’d settled for Aaron. He would eventually be an earl and Priscilla a countess, and Claudia wouldn’t let George ruin Priscilla’s glorious summer with an unacceptable, shoddy marriage for Lucas.

They were out on the verandah, enjoying the fresh air of a beautiful June evening. Supper had been tedious, the food average, the wine barely palatable. Miss Hubbard had been present, so the conversation had been stilted and awkward.

Claudia was glad the meal was over and couldn’t wait to get into her carriage and head home.

“I shouldn’t have to explain myself to you,” George said.

“Well, you certainly owe me some sort of clarification. Your announcement is shocking.”

“Lucas needs to wed, and a wife will calm his worst tendencies.”

“Hopefully.”

“He’s out of the army and at loose ends. Would you rather have him carousing with doxies and spreading scandal wherever he goes?”

“No,” she firmly stated. “I wouldn’t want that.”

“It wasn’t easy to find a girl who would have him.”

“I don’t suppose it was.”

“While Miss Hubbard comes from a much lower background than I would like, I have it on the highest authority that she’s quite remarkable.” He puffed himself up and bent nearer. “Her father was a French count. I shouldn’t have to say more than that.”

“If that’s really her lineage, why was she working? Why was she teaching? Are you sure you were told the truth about her?”

“Ah...” He scowled, his befuddled expression indicating that it had never occurred to him that the story might be false.

She sighed. He wasn’t very intelligent, and while they currently had to socialize, after the wedding she would devise many excuses to avoid him.

“Don’t embarrass Priscilla like this, George,” she pleaded. “Miss Hubbard looks to be in a desperate fiscal condition. Buy her off and send her packing. I’m positive her price would be very, very affordable.”

“I’ll consider it,” he mumbled.

He was a coward who hadn’t the fortitude to defend his position, and he turned and slinked inside, so she had to fume all by herself.

She leaned on the balustrade and stared into the house. Through a window, she could see Miss Hubbard on a sofa, talking to Aaron. She was pretty—in a common type of way. During supper, she’d seemed educated and well-mannered, so someone with sense had raised her.

But no amount of tutoring or etiquette could change a woman’s bloodlines, and Amelia Hubbard would marry into the Drake family over Claudia’s dead body. She couldn’t predict how she’d arrange the conclusion she sought, but if George tried to proceed, Claudia could guarantee that none of his dreams for Lucas would ever be realized.

* * * *

“I’m afraid I have to insist, Miss Hubbard.”

“I don’t know, Lord Sidwell. I think it would be best if I leave.”

“To go where, Miss Hubbard? Miss Peabody’s school is closed, and you have no kin in England. Will you traipse off down the road with no destination in mind and no money in your purse? You can’t be that foolish.”

“I’m not being foolish. I’m simply convinced that Mr. Drake and I shouldn’t wed. We don’t get on in the slightest, and a union would be a huge mistake.”

They were in George’s library, with George seated behind his desk and Miss Hubbard perched on the edge of her chair as if she was about to bolt. He was aware that she planned to depart, but he was more determined that she remain. In light of his resolve, she would have to do exactly what he wished.