Cocky Baron: Regency Cocky Gents (Book 2) Page 25

  He ignored it.

  With a simple nod, he indicated his approval and then led her through the corridor. He would bluff his way past these inconvenient feelings—whatever they were. Charm had never failed him in the past.

  And yet, she’d stiffened beside him and was tapping her fingers against the cuff of his jacket.

  He had about as much success hiding things from her as she did from him.

  “I worry about Tabetha setting her sights too high. Of course, I’m probably anxious over nothing, but she can be so very obstinate. It’s just that her determination to marry a high-ranking member of the ton has everything to do with our father. He used to tease her…” She faltered. “He always told her nothing less than an earl would be good enough for his little beauty. But I don’t want her to marry simply because of a man’s title. She deserves to be loved.” Her voice caught on the last word, almost as though she’d tried to take it back.

  Bethany deserved to be loved as well. But was he the one to do that? He was her husband, for God’s sake. If not him, then who?

  He opened the door to the carriage and assisted her inside before climbing in behind her.

  In an attempt to steer his thoughts in a more rational direction, he chose to sit across from, rather than beside her. Sitting beside her would mean touching her. Touching her would mean wanting her.

  Facing him, her smile faltered again, but of course, brightened again as well. He was an arse. He knew this. But how was he to clear his thoughts?

  She lowered her lashes and bit her lip. “Tabetha told me I was asking too much of you not to accept a challenge. She says it’s not something a gentleman can do. And I know I am asking too much. But… I can’t stop worrying about it. Jules… Westerley is my brother. And you are my husband. What if he doesn’t delope? What if you don’t?”

  Chase watched her gloved hands as they tapped her words out almost frantically now. He wanted to take her in his arms and tell her what she needed to hear. What the hell was holding him back?

  “You’re worrying over something that hasn’t even happened.” It was the best he could do to reassure her. “We have a few days yet before he returns. I’ll explain everything to him. If I can’t make him see that we’ve moved beyond harm or fallout, surely your mother can.”

  “I know.” She clasped her hands together, as though forcing them to still. “You’re right, of course.”

  Oh, hell.

  Unable to resist her pull, he lurched across the space beside him and wrapped one arm around her shoulders. “I won’t do anything to hurt your brother. I promise.” He kissed the top of her head.

  Holy hell, he just might be in love with her.

  “And my husband?”

  “I’ll do my best to keep him alive as well.”

  This marriage business was coming to be rather exhausting.

  Exhausting but also amazing, illuminating, exciting… along with the occasional bout of insecurity and confusion.

  It seemed like the smallest of gestures magnified Bethany’s emotions.

  Approaching her mother’s house, Chase dropped his hand on the small of her back where he drew a lazy circle. She shivered as he removed it to offer his arm properly and when she met his gaze, it was a knowing one.

  Was he capable of love? Would he recognize it if it beat him over the head?

  Would he tell her if it did?

  They entered the familiar foyer of her former home—her brother’s home—and after greeting her mother and one of her uncles on her mother’s side, she embraced Tabetha reassuringly even as Chaswick offered her sister words of encouragement.

  Guests were already lining up outside, however, so rather than linger in conversation, family members took their places alongside the debutante to be newly presented. Chase and Bethany had been assigned the last spot in the line. It was possible some guests would pass them by, give the cut direct. She wasn’t so naïve to think everyone had forgiven them.

  But it didn’t matter.

  In fact, rather than imagine herself shrinking, she would pity those who belittled others in order to convince themselves of their own worth.

  “Are you nervous?” Chase covered her hand where it rested on his forearm. Standing beside him felt natural. Comfortable and exciting at the same time.

  Right.

  “I’m not.” Her answer startled both of them.

  “Remember your brother assigned Spencer to keep watch over her.” He jerked his head toward the door, where sure enough, the spare to the Ravensdale Earldom was watching Tabetha with a somewhat stubborn expression.

  Mr. Spencer leaned against the wall but there was an alertness to him, an intensity she’d not noticed before.

  “It’s a shame he’s a mere Mister.” She sighed.

  “Would you matchmake otherwise?” Chase spoke softly enough that only she could hear.

  Funny, Bethany had never endeavored to insert herself in other people’s affairs like that, even when Westerley was courting Charley. But if she was of a mind to choose a gentleman for Tabetha… “I might.” She would most definitely steer her sister toward Mr. Spencer. And then she grinned. “Would you?”

  He didn’t have time to answer, as Lord and Lady Ravensdale had only just turned to greet them, accompanied by Blackheart’s sisters, looking excited and lovely. Next came Lord and Lady Hawthorne, Their Graces, the Duke and Duchess of Cortland, followed by other friendly and familiar faces.

  It wasn’t until Bethany overheard Tabetha giggling flirtatiously beside her that she felt even an inkling of unease.

  “Who is that?” He was familiar but Bethany couldn’t quite place him.

  The object of her sister’s open appreciation was a tall, thin gentleman who actually stared down his nose at the people around him. Despite a receding hairline, his face lacked maturity.

  “The newly crowned Duke of Culpepper.” Chase sounded disapproving. “He was involved in some… disreputable business about five years ago. His conspirators were forced out of England but as a marquess, and only marginally involved, he was allowed to retire to his country estate up north. It seems his exile is over.”

  “I heard he’s recently widowed, as well.”

  “Stone doesn’t trust him.” Chase nodded. “If you have a chance, have your sister steer clear of him.”

  Bethany watched as Tabetha fluttered her eyelashes. If the devil himself was a duke, her sister would still set her cap for him. “Easier spoken than accomplished,” she barely managed to whisper before the young duke turned his attention in their direction.

  Chase made the introduction, and Bethany curtsied.

  Another ten minutes passed and as the line of arriving guests trickled off, Bethany and Chace motioned that they would await the guest of honor in the ballroom.

  “Are you sure I look all right?” Tabetha grasped Bethany’s wrist at the last minute. “I should have worn the rose gown. Or the apricot. I wish you could enter with me.”

  Her sister’s last-minute plea summoned memories of Bethany’s own debut. Only, instead of their uncle to escort her inside, she’d had their father. She blinked away a few tears and then, clasping Tabetha’s hands in hers, spoke the words she’d needed to hear that night.

  “You are beautiful—the loveliest lady at the ball.” Because when a young woman makes her come-out, it has to be true. “Everyone is going to adore you, and all the handsome men will vie for your attention. And you deserve it, Tabby. This is the beginning of something wonderful.”

  Tabetha nodded with a sappy smile. “I love you, Bethany.”

  “I love you too. Now I’m going to walk away before we turn into a couple of weeping pots.” With one last squeeze, Bethany returned to her husband, where he awaited her with a patient smile, and the two of them joined the other guests.

  Two hours later, Tabetha glowed brighter than all the chandeliers put together.

  If she wasn’t dancing, she was surrounded by no less than six young gentlemen eager to garner her
attention. Bethany would have worried when the Duke of Culpepper led her sister onto the floor if Stone Spencer hadn’t persisted in his careful watch.

  Well done, Westerley.

  Although far from perfect, on occasion, their brother sometimes exercised good judgment as far as they were concerned.

  And the event was proving to be a crush. If only she could locate her husband. They’d danced the first set together and then dutifully gone their separate ways as all good married couples did.

  “Don’t forget about your wager this afternoon,” Chase had whispered in her ear before taking his leave. “Because I certainly haven’t.”

  Bethany shivered at the memory.

  Her eyes flicked left and then right, hoping to catch a glimpse of him from where she stood against a brocaded wall, Felicity beside her. Both had just come off the floor after a lively set and were a little out of breath.

  “You seem content in your newly married state,” Felicity offered quietly.

  “Content is a tame word for it.” Bethany and Felicity had known one another for most of their lives and gone through a multitude of highs and lows together. She allowed herself a mysterious smile when she turned her head to meet Felicity’s gaze.

  “Is that so?” Her friend’s brows raised.

  Bethany didn’t want to reveal anything else, thinking that to do so could jinx it. Ridiculous that a grown woman could feel this way, a married woman, but… she mentally shrugged. “It’s as though I’m free to… be who I want to be. Does that make sense?” Before this last week, she’d simply been a spectator in life and now she’d become an actual participant.

  She didn’t expect Felicity, who never seemed uncertain under any circumstance, to fully comprehend her meaning and was taken aback when she nodded.

  “It does! But that’s wonderful, Bethany. Family is a wonderful thing most of the time… I’m happy for you. Truly, I am.”

  Bethany squeezed Felicity’s hand but couldn’t keep herself from glancing around the room again. She stiffened when her gaze landed on an all-too-familiar, striking red-haired woman.

  Lady Starling.

  And standing beside the lovely widow was none other than her husband. A smile hovered on his lips but then he stilled, and his brows rose. Hair on the back of Bethany’s neck stood up when she watched him reach out to take a folded piece of paper the widow discreetly slid into his hand.

  The corners of his eyes narrowed, and with a glance toward the terrace doors, he nodded. Lady Starling then touched his arm, rose up onto her toes and brushed her lips along his jaw. Sending him a lingering glance over her shoulder, the woman sashayed away.

  Bethany clenched her fists, unclenched them, and then clenched them again.

  Felicity witnessed the exchange as well and clutched Bethany’s arm. “It’s likely nothing.” But her voice was more sympathetic than reassuring.

  “I didn’t realize she was back from Brighton.” It was nothing.

  And yet…

  He’d never pretended to love her. He’d never promised to be faithful. Had he?

  A few guests were staring at her. Had they noticed as well? Had everyone been watching for this?

  Her skin broke into a cold sweat, and she shivered.

  “Come with me.” Felicity dragged her toward the exit where they could slip into the lady’s retiring room. “It’s nothing.”

  But of course, it had to be something.

  Visions of the past week flashed in Bethany’s mind. Had she wanted him to love her so badly that she’d fooled herself into believing it was possible?

  “Just because he read the note doesn’t mean he’s going to meet her,” Felicity insisted.

  “He nodded.” Bethany thought she might swoon. But it didn’t make sense. The Chase she knew wouldn’t do this to her.

  What was this? Oh, dear Lord, she was jealous. She was so jealous and angry that she wondered that she hadn’t turned green. “I feel sick.”

  “Of course, you do. But it has nothing to do with Lady Star—“ Felicity halted her words abruptly when they entered to find the retiring room occupied by Rachel Somerset and Coleus and Hollyhock Mossant.

  “You poor thing! Did you know she was back in London?” Coleus didn’t bother to explain who she was talking about.

  “She is so very glamorous.” Delia stepped out from the corner where she stood near a potted plant.

  Mortification washed through Bethany as she remembered what Delia and Rachel had overheard at Westerley Crossings. It was obvious that Delia was remembering too.

  Chase. Oh, Chase! Yes! Yes, Chaswick!

  Miranda, God. Miranda!

  “It’s no wonder, really. Do you suppose they’ll pick up where they left off?” Rachel smirked at Bethany triumphantly. “Chaswick’s never kept his paramours secret and it’s well known he keeps more than one mistress at a house on Farm Street. Surely, you don’t believe the adage that reformed rakes make the best husbands?”

  But Chase hadn’t been—a rake that was. Those ladies were not his mistresses. They were his sisters. Bethany clamped her mouth shut. The secret wasn’t hers to share, regardless of how badly she wanted to set the record straight.

  “Don’t be mean, Rachel,” Coleus reprimanded the other girl. The Mossant sisters had always been lively, friendly young women, and not for the first time, Bethany wondered at their friendship with Rachel.

  “I’m not being mean. I’m simply calling a spade a spade.”

  “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Bethany lifted her chin, feeling a flicker of hope because she knew at least one rumor wasn’t true.

  Surely, they were all mistaken in imagining he would go off alone with Lady Starling.

  Without fail, Chase charmed the people around him. Of course, he couldn’t simply cut the widow.

  Lady Starling.

  The woman he’d intended to spank in the Willoughbys’ garden.

  Just because he and Lady Starling were no longer lovers didn’t mean they could never speak to one another again. Lady Starling might even end up a friend.

  She pictured the woman’s expression as she’d secretly slipped the folded parchment into Chase’s grasp.

  And he had nodded in agreement.

  Bethany crossed the room to where the water bowl and pitcher had been set out. Showing a calm she by no means felt, she wet her handkerchief with the cool lavender water and then dabbed it to her forehead.

  When Chase had licentious thoughts on his mind, a wicked glimmer appeared in his eyes, making them twinkle. There had been no twinkling when he’d addressed Lady Starling.

  He hadn’t been agreeing to a tryst. But what then?

  “The Roger de Coverley is certainly a lively dance.” She met Felicity’s gaze in the large looking glass propped against the wall. “I never laughed so hard as when Lady Darlington lost her slipper.”

  “She did manage an exceptional recovery,” Felicity added.

  Bethany only half-listened as Felicity distracted the room’s occupants with a full description of the incident.

  These sorts of assumptions planted the seeds of the worst rumors. Chase wouldn’t do that to her. When she’d asked him about Lady Starling, he’d told her it was over.

  She believed him.

  Bethany would march back into the ballroom, Chase would claim her for the supper dance, and then she would ask him about it while they sat down to eat.

  He’d told her he was going to share things with her—share the contents of his heart. A good place to begin would be for him to share the contents of the note from his former lover.

  Bethany summoned her composure, nodded in Felicity’s direction, and they returned to the party.

  When Lord Tempest arrived to claim the set he’d reserved with Felicity, Bethany assured Felicity that she was perfectly fine to be left alone. Her husband would find her any minute, and they would join the other dancers for the waltz.

  Bethany watched as more and more dancers took their places on
the floor.

  He would be here. Any minute.

  Even Lady Delia had a partner, as did the Misses Mossants. Rachel’s Somerset awaited the music to begin with the Duke of Culpepper.

  Feeling conspicuously alone for the first time all evening, Bethany moved along the wall, head held high. He likely was in the card room or smoking in the library.

  But he ought to hear the music. Aside from that, he always carried his timepiece with him. He wouldn’t be so caught up in his wagers or cigars that he would forget her.

  Would he?

  Pitying stares encroached on her confidence.

  And then…

  A matronly woman stepped to the side, giving Bethany an unfettered view of the windows that opened up to the terrace and revealing the man she’d been watching for. Chase was holding a cigar between his fingers, rolling it. He was watching for something. Her!

  Bethany smoothed her skirts and licked her lips. She would learn not to doubt him in the future. He was not the rogue people believed.

  She raised her hand to attract his attention but just as the welcoming smile danced on her lips, he shifted his gaze back to the windows, and then, almost as though not wanting to be seen, slipped outside the terrace door leaving Bethany standing at the edge of the dance floor.

  Alone.

  Chapter 31

  What Business?

  The megrim Bethany feigned when informing her mother of her early departure had become a very real thing by the time she actually climbed into bed.

  An unfamiliar, cold, and lonely bed.

  The Gold Room had been emptied and what furnishings remained had been covered with large tarps while the contractors began work on the renovation. Since she couldn’t bring herself to await his return in his bed, she’d claimed one of the other guest chambers.

  She shouldn’t have left the ball early, but she’d panicked.

  After watching him sneak away to meet Lady Starling, there was no way she could continue pretending that nothing was amiss. She squeezed her eyes shut.

  Did she know him, or didn’t she?

  M-i-s-t-r-e-s-s. Eight.