Wicked And Wild: Spencers in Love Book Two (3 page)

Chapter 7

            Why, why, why?
Thought Mirabelle as
Lucien helped her up to the seat of his phaeton the next afternoon. She sighed
as she looked at the sleek, glossy pair and the reins. She longed to be in the
country, on the back of a horse not headed to Hyde Park for a sedate drive.

            “Could I drive?” Mirabelle used her sweetest,
most innocent smile on Lucien. He narrowed his eyes for a moment before handing
her the reins.

            “For a bit. Behave.” He stretched his arm along
the bench and she tried not to shiver as he idly stroked her spine. She found
it hard to focus on the traffic and the horses while Lucien’s hand discreetly
caressed her. The urge to stare at him was almost too much. He reclined with
his boot resting on his knee, watching her. Mirabelle knew that the next day,
young bucks would be imitating him down to the lazy smile. She wished them luck.
Many wouldn't be able to pull off the cut of his navy coat and striped waistcoat
or look as flattering wearing inexpressibles and Hessians. Mirabelle no longer
wished to be in the country riding horses; she longed to be anywhere, alone
with Lucien.

            As if he'd heard her thoughts, he leaned forward
and put his hand on hers.

            “Hand them over, we’re almost to Rotten Row.”
She passed them to him and sat back. “I'm supposed to be courting you, remember?”
Mirabelle rolled her eyes.

            “It's a shame I couldn't have courted you. Life
would be so much more efficient if women didn't have to wait on men.” She cut
her eyes as she scanned the street. As she had expected, everyone appeared to
be watching them or whispering about them. The entire ton would know before
they returned to Spencer Place.

            “No doubt, you're right. I think that's why men
need wives. We have no idea what we’re doing once we’re adults.” Lucien nodded
vaguely as he passed landaus and pedestrians. Like her, he had no wish to stop
and be interrogated. Mirabelle laughed and he winked at her.

            “I think we’ll be in for it if you don't get us
out of here.” She said as she pretended to miss Lady Gasden waiving wildly at
them. Lucien nodded and steered them away from the park.

            “I had hoped to take you for a walk. Perhaps
we’ll go back and get your maid and go for an ice?” He offered. Mirabelle
grimaced.

            “I think we should give it a day or two. We
won't be able to take two steps before we’re mobbed.” She looked at Lucien and
saw that he was beginning to comprehend how much of a spectacle they would be.
“Why couldn't you have courted me in the country?” She mumbled. He laughed and
nudged her with his elbow.

            “I don't think it would truly count as a
courtship if the only ones to witness it were the horses. I suppose I could
catch fish for you, instead of bringing you flowers.” He teased. Mirabelle
wrinkled her nose and shook her head.

            “I suppose there could be worse things than this.”
She grumbled as she crossed her arms.

            Two evenings later, they were still drawing
attention. Lucien had suggested a stroll by the Serpentine and a queue had
practically formed. By the time they quit Hyde Park, Mirabelle's face hurt and
her patience was worn thin. She's was well aware of how fortunate she was but
if she hadn't been, it had been all but hammered into her. Her favorite comment
of the day had been from Miss Binsdale.

            “It's so romantic! Rescued from the brink of
spinsterhood, I'm sure you'd given up all hope!” She gushed. Mirabelle had
almost told the woman that she was a bacon-brained nincompoop but Lucien had
shushed her.

            Lady Gasden had been a great help. At her
landau, Percy Wigham, a terrible sycophant and a singleton nearly interrogated Mirabelle
in regards to her level of delight and surprise at being chosen by “His Most
Honorable Grace”. Really? His sister displayed even less sense.

            “Surely, you're absolutely in alt but aren't the
two of you related?”

            “Off with you dunderheads! Someone should slap
your parents!” Lady Gasden declared and they fled. Which, unfortunately, was
the highlight of Mirabelle's day.

            Lucien escorted her to a musicale at Lady
Hathewaite’s and the performance could barely be heard over the whispers.
Annabelle Whyte sat behind her and kept leaning forward to whisper in her ear.
At one point, Mirabelle flicked her fan open, ready to swat the woman away
before Lucien stilled her with his hand on hers. Her eyes flared and he shook
his head. For once, she wished he wasn't able to read her so well.

            Days later, things had not improved. Because of
her age, the mature and married ladies she encountered assumed it was
acceptable to discuss Lucien’s reputation and physical attributes with
Mirabelle. One had gone as far as to say that she had been told that Lucien was
as well endowed as the horses he bred. Mirabelle could think of no response. At
least none she could say out loud. She'd spluttered as she felt heat rising up
her neck. The foolish woman assumed she'd embarrassed Mirabelle and laughed.
The only thing she could do was turn on her heel and walk away. An hour later,
Lady Hargrove, a very popular widow, found her getting refreshments. She leaned
in and whispered in Mirabelle's ear over the punch bowl.

            “He has the most wicked tongue…” Mirabelle
stopped her.

            “I am not acquainted with your mother, but I
assure you mine raised me better!” She hissed. Lady Hargrove pressed her hand
to her chest and leaned back.

            “My apologies, I was merely congratulating you.”
She had the audacity to act offended.

            “I believe the conventional way to do that would
be to say ‘Congratulations’ or ‘Felicitations’, if you'd prefer something more
formal. Not, ‘I’m a bit of a trollop and had a go of it with your fiancé’.”
Mirabelle whispered furiously before she swept off to find the devil.

            As soon as they made eye contact, he could tell
she was angry. She saw that his first instinct was flight. Mentally, she dared
him. He stood his ground and when she finally reached him he raised her hand to
his lips as he leaned close.

            “Whatever it is, I'm sorry.” He looked so
contrite and handsome, Mirabelle felt her fury evaporating. Unfortunately, a
stabbing pain had started behind her eyes and it was immune to his charms.
“Would you like to dance?” He’d made his voice like velvet and was soothing. She
shook her head.

            “I'd like to leave. I've had enough and my head aches.”
His eyes searched hers and he frowned.

            “I'll take you to The Mothers and then have the
carriage brought around.”

            A short time later, they were cocooned in
darkness and on their way back to Spencer Place. Mirabelle sighed in relief and
felt Lucien's hand wrap around hers. If they had been alone, she would have
rested her head on his shoulder and told him about Lady Hargrove. Instead, she squeezed
his hand and pushed her anger away. She knew of his past before she'd agreed to
marry him. Mirabelle accepted that she couldn't punish him for it. But it didn't
mean she had to be pleased about it.

            Lucien saw Mirabelle and maman into the house
and waited until they were alone in the hall before he took her hands in his.

            “What happened?” His eyes poured into hers,
searching. She shook her head and looked away. She didn't want to revisit the
encounter. He took her chin and pulled her back to him. “Tell me.” He pleaded
softly.

            “Lady Hargrove cornered me and was rather explicit
in praising your… talents.” Mirabelle mumbled. Lucien closed his eyes and
grimaced.

            “I'm so sorry, sweetheart. If there was some way
I could spare you, I would.” His thumb brushed her cheek and she felt giddy.

            “Maybe a notice in the paper to all of your past
paramours?” She teased.

            “Touché, madam.” His lips curved gently and for
a moment, Mirabelle thought he would lower his lips to hers. Instead, he sighed
then raised her hand and kissed the inside of her wrist. Heat flowed down her
arm until it pooled between her thighs. “Goodnight.” Lucien whispered before he
turned and let himself out. Mirabelle cursed under her breath and stomped up
the stairs to her room.

Chapter 8

            Two weeks into his engagement, Lucien watched
his intended from across the Winterfeldt ballroom as he reflected on their
courtship. He was confident that his efforts so far were proving successful. He
reasoned that if the rest of their engagement went as well, Mirabelle would
feel that the years she'd spent waiting for him had been worth it.

            Determined to be the perfect suitor, Lucien
settled into a very devoted routine with Mirabelle. Every morning, he would
arrive at Spencer Place for breakfast with flowers and chocolates in hand.
After breakfast, Lucien would spend a minimum of a half of an hour
complimenting Mirabelle on her dress, hair and general beauty. Following that,
he would listen to her play the harp or piano or they would share a game of
chess. The rest of the morning was devoted to an outing. Lucien would take
Mirabelle for a stroll down Bond Street, to the British Museum, a gallery or an
exhibition. Often, they would enjoy lunch (supervised by her maid, Mary) and an
ice at Gunter's (to Mary's delight). A few times, Mirabelle had allowed Lucien
to coax her into a shop to buy her gifts. The first, a crystal perfume bottle
that he made her promise to keep full of her jasmine and lavender scent, which
he confided was his favorite smell, above all others. The second was a book of
Shakespeare's sonnets that he vowed to recite from to her every day. Which led
to Lucien reading to Mirabelle in the afternoon until it was time for a ride or
a stroll before he returned home to change for the evening. Their evenings were
spent at Spencer Place among the family unless there was an engagement for them
to attend. Lucien had accompanied Mirabelle to five balls and three musicales.
He found himself swelling with pride when he walked with her on his arm. Though
it had not been officially announced, it took little more than a day for the
ton to realize Lucien's intentions. Not that he'd tried to hide them. As he had
never driven a lady or walked with one in the park, his doing so was a very
clear signal. The ring that Lady Wembley and Miss Eskwith were currently
admiring on Mirabelle's finger was another giveaway.

            The ton was fixated. Everywhere he went, Lucien
heard his and Mirabelle's names whispered. So far, the news was well received.
As long as he kept her on her best behavior during this period of intense
scrutiny, the match would continue to be well favored. With that in mind,
Lucien pushed away from the wall and made his way through the crowded ballroom
towards Mirabelle. He could tell by her brittle smile and flaring eyes that she
was on the verge of doing something regrettable. Not that Lucien imagined she'd
regret it. But those around her might.

            "Ladies." He addressed the trio and
bowed. Mirabelle was nearly seething. It didn't help that Lady Wembley curtsied
low and let her eyes travel up and down Lucien's body appreciatively before
smiling invitingly.

            "Your Grace, I was just telling Miss
Spencer how lucky she is and that the ladies of the ton will be devastated when
you are no longer on the market." Lady Wembley attempted to position
herself closer to Lucien. He saw Mirabelle's hand curl into a fist and he
quickly pressed against her side and placed her hand on his arm.

            "My lady, I can assure that I am the one
that is lucky. No other lady will do and I am humbled that she would choose me
in return." Lucien brought her other hand to his lips and kissed her
knuckles. "If you'll excuse us, I'd like to waltz with Miss Spencer."
He nodded as he led her away. Lady Wembley understood that he had declined her
not so subtle offer and blushed as she and Miss Eskwith curtsied as they
departed.

            "I cannot believe that she would dare to
behave so brazenly in front of me!" Mirabelle hissed.

            "It was most unattractive." Lucien
murmured. Though he did not doubt that less than a month ago, he would have
accepted Lady Wembley's offer. Now, she repulsed him. He couldn't help but
smile. Rakes could truly be reformed, it seemed. Lucien led Mirabelle to the
dance floor and took her in his arms and set them gliding. "Aside from
Lady Wembley and Miss Eskwith, how are you enjoying your evening,
sweetheart?" Mirabelle pulled a face and rolled her eyes. Lucien couldn't
help his smile. Her emotions always showed on her face. Her expressions were
always adorable, even when she was irritated or angry.

            "I promise you, Lucien, the next person
that tells me how lucky I am or that I was smart to hold out, I'll punch in the
throat." Mirabelle was tense in his arms. Lucien chuckled as he led them
through a turn.

            "Has it really been that bad?" He
dipped his head so he could see her face better. She answered with a scowl and
Lucien threw his head back and laughed. Heads swiveled in their direction.
"Even when you're furious, you delight me." He whispered. Mirabelle
shrugged and looked over his shoulder.

            "Would you mind if we left early? My head
is starting to pound. I think it might be a buildup of delightful fury. I can't
promise I won't snap and attack someone."

            "Very well, we'll find your mother and see
if she's ready." Lucien scanned the room.

            "The Mothers left a while ago. Didn't
Madeline tell you? Lady Gasden wasn't feeling well so they helped her home. I
told them not to worry, that you would see me home." Mirabelle smiled up
at Lucien sweetly.

            Lucien stifled a groan. He'd been careful to
avoid being alone with Mirabelle since the night of their engagement while she
did everything she could to find them some privacy. He knew she wanted him to
kiss her again. While Lucien would like nothing more, he wasn't sure he could
trust himself, or her. He'd come very close to losing himself while kissing
Mirabelle twice in the parlor at Spencer Place. The second time had been just
moments before Gilles walked in. The very worst thing that could happen would
be for Lucien to get caught in a compromising position with Mirabelle; he was
walking a fine line with Gilles and Alastair. Now, she'd maneuvered them into
several minutes alone.

            It didn't take long to make their way out and
into the carriage. As soon as the door shut and the horses pulled away,
Mirabelle turned her face to Lucien's expectantly. She leaned towards him and
sighed as she rested her hand against his chest. He felt his body tighten in
response and cursed under his breath. He crossed to the opposite seat and made
a show of looking out the window. When he looked back at Mirabelle her eyes
were wide with disbelief.

            "Sorry, I thought I saw something."
Lucien mumbled and looked out the window again. "What shall we do
tomorrow? Perhaps you'd let me take you to the jeweler. We could have a
bracelet or a necklace and maybe some earrings made to match your ring.” He
offered. Jewelry always worked, in Lucien's experience. Not with Mirabelle, it
seemed. She continued blinking, her eyes unfocused. Her jaw hung slightly
opened. "Mirabelle?" She shook her head gently and eventually looked
at Lucien. "The jeweler? Can I get you some pieces to match your ring?"
She looked at him as if he'd sprouted extra ears.

            "God, no! I'm not your wife yet, that would
be ridiculously excessive." She scolded.

            Lucien shrugged and smiled.

            "What's the point of being a duke if I
can't indulge in a little excess and spoil my lovely fiancée?" He leaned
and checked the window. Almost there. Mirabelle sighed and relaxed against the
cushions, her eyes drifted to the window.

            "Could we just stay in tomorrow? I'd
appreciate a day to relax with Elise and just read. I'm a bit behind on my
correspondence as well." Mirabelle sounded disappointed and tired. Lucien
frowned. He knew she wanted him to kiss her but this seemed like it was about
more than the kiss.

            "What's wrong?" He whispered as he
reached for her hand. Mirabelle smiled weakly and was about to say
"Nothing" but the carriage rocked to a halt and the door was pulled
open.

            "Good night, Your Grace. Thank you for
seeing me home." Mirabelle called as she exited the carriage without
looking back. Lucien knew he'd just been dismissed.

            Very well, he'd give Mirabelle a day. They'd
spend it at Spencer Place with the family but the day after, he'd step up his
efforts. Lucien smiled. He was going to court the hell out of Mirabelle.