Lady Be Good: Lord Love a Lady Series, Book 5 Page 5

  Lord Darlington reached one hand out. “May I?”

  Unsure what he asked, she nodded, nonetheless. She trusted him. He’d entered her room in the middle of the night and, although well into his cups, had not made a single advance or inappropriate comment.

  He exuded good character.

  He wrapped his hand around her wrist, drawing her arm away from her body and toward him. With his other hand, he traced the lines on the tender skin of her forearm. “Who did this?” The gentleness of his touch was unexpected.

  She shook her head. “It’s nothing.”

  His throat moved, and she watched him swallow hard. His next question surprised her.

  “Lady Danbury says you attended school with her. Why did you consent to become her maid? She says you could have been a companion.”

  Her breath caught. Had he asked Penelope about her?

  “She is my dearest friend, and I love her,” Rose answered honestly.

  “It cannot be easy.” His fingers traced the mark again.

  She shivered and he lifted his gaze to meet hers once again.

  “My situation could be worse.” It was true. She had no complaints.

  His eyes, normally a bright blue, seemed darker tonight. She felt herself drowning in the black inner circle, unable to look anywhere but at him.

  “I don’t remember why I came here tonight,” he said softly.

  Rose swallowed. “The rumor.” Her own voice was barely a whisper. The intensity of his regard left her feeling exposed and vulnerable. It was as though he wanted to know everything about her, as though he would read her mind. When she could endure it no longer, she closed her eyes to break the spell.

  When she opened them again, he nodded, and then, after carefully releasing her arm, stepped back.

  “Is that all, My Lord?” Oddly enough, she didn’t wish him to leave, but servants already had been talking. And what reason would he have to stay?

  This was Penelope’s chamber.

  He was a viscount.

  She knew better.

  Rose was lying. The bruising on her arm perfectly revealed the shape of fingers digging into her flesh. Rome wouldn’t push the matter. It was none of his business.

  And yet, he liked being in the same room with her. He felt as though he’d known her forever. As though she could see parts of him no one else did.

  He liked touching her––even just tracing the sensitive skin of her arm. What would it be like? To touch her face? To touch her breasts? The tender flesh between her legs? He shoved the inconvenient images from his mind. He’d not be another bastard for whom she must be wary.

  He’d nearly drawn her toward him, nearly pulled her body up against his. It had been so long. Too long. Was that why he’d come? He shook his head and took a second step backward.

  “How was supper?” She smiled weakly, unaware of his inappropriate thoughts. She’d not been raised for service; she’d been raised alongside Penelope.

  What had she asked? Supper. “Delightful but… Good Lord, there was far too much of it.”

  At his words, her smile grew. He’d not truly seen her smile before.

  Breathtaking.

  His gaze shifted to the dish she’d sat on the table where they’d taken tea earlier. “Bread and cheese. Amazing how satisfying something so unpretentious can be.” And at that moment, he wasn’t speaking of food.

  Could she satisfy his most basic urges?

  “You’re welcome to it.” She gestured with one hand.

  He’d admit to himself that he found almost everything about her to be attractive. Her voice, her face… the rest of her.

  He shook his head at such a thought. “Thank you, no. I’ve had my fill.” And before he did exactly that which he’d promised himself he would not, he excused himself and marched out the door toward his own chamber.

  She was a maid. And not just any maid but Lady Danbury’s. Penelope would have his hide if he took advantage. A romp in the sack wasn’t worth losing old friends, even if the romp promised to be thoroughly satisfying. It definitely wasn’t worth losing his self-respect.

  Damn and blast. He’d be sure to avoid Penelope’s chamber in the future. Minutes later, he pushed open the door to his own and immediately felt as though he’d made a narrow escape.

  “My Lord, these arrived earlier this afternoon.” Pierce extended a handful of letters before Rome made it through the door. “I attempted to deliver them to you, in Cortland’s study, as requested. But your whereabouts were unknown.”

  He’d forgotten about today’s reports entirely. He’d been… distracted.

  Rome flipped through the stack, removing the one from Wales, and then tossed the others onto the table beside his bed. Anxious to hear any news about his son, he opened the envelope and scanned the unfamiliar handwriting. Not quite believing his eyes, he returned to the salutation and reread the words.

  “Mrs. Creighton died. A week ago.” He relayed the news to his valet. The letter had been written by Wesley’s uncle––rather, his great-uncle. “Mrs. Creighton’s brother says Wesley has settled in well, however, and wishes to remain in Wales, with him.”

  Rome rubbed his chin. At their urging, Rome had allowed Laura’s parents, Mr. and Mrs. Creighton, to bring up his son. They’d insisted it would be for the best. And the boy was nearing his majority now. If he wished to stay in Wales, what right did Rome have to tear him away from the only family he’d ever known?

  And yet…

  “The Creightons were good people. Sounds as though the boy is feeling at home there,” Pierce interrupted his musings. “What of the other missives, My Lord?”

  “They can wait.”

  “You are certain?” his man prodded. “They’ll be expecting your prompt response.”

  Rome rubbed the back of his neck. If any of the missives were urgent… He retrieved the stack again and began flipping through it. “I’ll go through them tonight.”

  “Let me help you change, first, My Lord.” Pierce tugged at the back of his jacket.

  Rome absentmindedly switched the letters from one hand to the other as his man peeled the fitted jacket off his person. He’d have to write to Wesley, and the uncle, he supposed. To express his condolences and confirm Wesley’s wishes. He’d also need to change the name on Wesley’s trust. With both of Laura’s parents dead now, he supposed the uncle would be needing the benefits.

  “I believe that we will travel to Wales after this party, Pierce. Ensure that Wesley is content there.” If he was not, then Rome could bring him back…

  “Are you sure that is for the best, My Lord?”

  Rome swallowed hard. The Creightons had always insisted Rome’s visits caused too much upheaval in his son’s life. That seeing Rome, his real father who was also a viscount, only served to remind the boy of the unfortunate circumstances surrounding his birth.

  “I think it necessary.” It was the least he could do, upheaval or not.

  Mr. Pierce grunted. “You’ve done more than most would have, My Lord.”

  Rome wasn’t sure he could agree with his valet’s statement.

  His valet stepped around him to untie the cravat he’d knotted earlier, reminding Rome of the moment he’d felt Miss Waring’s hands loosen the tie when she’d thought he was sleeping.

  Thoughts of her persisted most inconveniently. She seemed so very serious on some occasions and yet, she’d teased him. She’d plied him with sugar.

  “Were you aware that Lady Danbury’s maid was not raised for service?”

  Pierce paused, and then draped the cravat over a clothing horse. “She doesn’t act as a lady’s maid ought.” Disapproval sounded heavy in Pierce’s voice.

  Rome frowned. Lady’s maids were something of an unknown commodity to him. They were lady’s maids, after all. Miss Waring seemed to be as much friend as a maid to Penelope. But… “How so?”

  Frowning, the valet brushed Rome’s hands away from the fasteners on his breeches to assist with those. “She ha
s a somewhat unsavory reputation amongst the servants.”

  Unsavory, as in…? Surely not!

  Although she had allowed him into her chamber. Several times now.

  That sent his thoughts in a disgustingly roguish direction. Did she lay with other servants? Did she have a lover in Land’s End?

  If he were to take a mistress, would she be interested in the position?

  “Most prudent to stay away from that one,” Pierce added.

  “Interesting.” Rome slipped into his banyan and moved toward the desk in the corner of the room. Damn, Penelope would murder him if she knew the direction of his thoughts.

  “That will be all, Pierce.”

  “If you’d like—”

  “That will be all.”

  Chapter 6

  Pinkerton’s Mercantile, Milliner, and Pecuniary

  “Wear something warm, Rose. You’re coming with me to town. The duchess has assembled a party to travel into Exeter, and I’ve shopping to do,” Penelope declared as she swept into the room upon returning from breakfast. “You’ll want a scarf and mittens, I imagine. It’s dreadful cold outside.”

  Rose’s spirits lifted at the prospect. Not that she could afford to purchase anything, since she sent most of her wages home to her mother, but she needed away from this estate.

  If only for a day.

  “What kind of shopping?” One never knew with Penelope.

  “I want to buy Hugh something special for Christmas. Something to mark our first holiday together. What would you suggest?”

  Penelope handed Rose a soft cashmere scarf and then threw one over the back of a chair, presumably for herself.

  Lord Danbury would be impossible to buy for. “A book? A pipe? A walking stick?” Rose touched the soft material to her cheek. What did you buy for someone who already had everything they needed? “You are prepared to leave the babies, then?”

  The twins were only a few months old, and Penelope and Danbury had yet to leave them alone with their nurses for long.

  “It’ll only be a few hours. Besides, Hugh is staying behind.”

  Feeling a smidge of excitement, Rose helped Penelope change and then chose one of Penelope’s heavier cotton day dresses for herself.

  An hour later, no less than three carriages and twice as many mounts took to the road leading away from Summers Park toward the nearby town of Exeter. The shopkeepers would be in raptures when they saw them coming.

  Rose tucked in beside Penelope while Lady Hawthorne and Lady Asherton faced them from the other bench, their backs toward the front.

  “The drive isn’t a long one,” Penelope assured Lady Asherton, who had not visited Summers Park before this. “My first stop will be Pinkerton’s Mercantile, Milliner, and Pecuniary. They carry the most frivolous gentlemen’s items. I’ll have a challenge purchasing something for Danbury, but I’m determined to surprise that man.”

  “I’d hesitate to say that he has any needs you haven’t already met.” Rose sent a sly look in Penelope’s direction.

  Penelope grinned back at her, and Lady Hawthorne erupted into a peel of laughter. Lady Asherton rolled her eyes heavenward.

  “Rose, you’ll embarrass Lady Hawthorne.” Penelope’s elbow dug into her side.

  The beautiful blonde countess, who had been married little over a year herself, merely waved one hand. “Likely, Penelope is the perfect wife for him then.”

  Neither of the two women questioned that Penelope would bring her maid along in the same carriage, despite the other maids riding separately. Penelope had been doing so ever since they’d begun their arrangement.

  Rose appreciated the courtesy. Penelope truly wanted to include her. Acting as both maid and companion, however, affected the unintended consequence of excluding Rose from both groups of women.

  For the remainder of the ride, Penelope and Lady Hawthorne—Natalie—as she insisted Penelope and Lady Asherton address her, spoke of babies and children and other issues that arose while managing large households.

  Even Lady Asherton chimed in when it came to the topic.

  Rose stared out the window, inadvertently catching sight of the gentlemen who’d accompanied them but had declined traveling in carriages in favor of riding outside. She’d known the viscount was participating in this excursion and yet her heart skipped a beat when she caught sight of him atop a majestic black mare.

  Straight back, proud natural seat…

  Lost in her thoughts, Rose jumped when Lady Hawthorne peered outside and spied him as well.

  “Rome needs to marry,” she commented, at the same time waving to catch his attention. She didn’t speak again until he’d waved back at her and then spurred his horse forward. “You wouldn’t believe the horrid rumor my maid shared with me last week. I hesitate to say it aloud. It’s obviously unfounded.”

  Penelope nodded, “Unspeakable. I heard it, too. Ridiculous. Utter rubbish.”

  Lady Asherton glanced from one lady to the other, obviously unenlightened as to the nature of the gossip.

  “It isn’t true,” Rose announced without thinking. If she hadn’t seen that look in his eyes less than twelve hours earlier, she mightn’t have been so adamant.

  Both Lady Hawthorne and Penelope stared at her curiously.

  “Most rumors,” Rose explained quickly, “travel through the servants before making their way upstairs. I believe I first heard it last spring.”

  “Last spring?” The Viscount Darlington’s sister seemed horrified. “Unacceptable! Such nonsense can become dangerous if it gets out of hand.” Her joltingly familiar blue eyes hardened. “He must marry. This coming Season at the latest. I won’t have my brother’s good name bandied about so recklessly. If I discover the beef-witted clod-pole who started this nonsense…”

  “It is dangerous,” Penelope agreed. “Although anyone even remotely acquainted with him knows it to be absolute rubbish.”

  Lady Hawthorne pursed her lips, deep in thought. “Who would make a good match for my brother? I hate to see him tied to some miss half his age. He needs someone with half a brain, or he’ll tire of her before the wedding breakfast is over.”

  Penelope waggled her brows while staring at Lady Asherton. “I have the perfect person in mind.”

  The widow held her hands to her chest. “Me? Oh, no! Penelope. Don’t be silly.”

  But Lady Hawthorne turned her gaze on Penelope’s sister-in-law as well, an excited, somewhat cunning look in her eyes. “Have I mentioned how glad I am that you’re joining us at Raven’s Park next month?”

  “I’m not so sure I should,” the woman said as the carriage jostled to a halt.

  “Here we are!” Penelope focused once again on the purpose of their journey. “Hopefully, Mr. Pinkerton will have a few original suggestions for me.” Once Penelope decided she wanted something, nothing could stop her from getting it. Likely, this entire outing had been her idea.

  The door flew open at the same time one of the outriders could be heard lowering the step. With the other carriages stopping behind them, a bit of chaos then ensued while everyone promised to return at a certain time before scattering in different directions to explore the tea shops and some of the other stores on the opposite side of the road.

  Rose collected her reticule and waited, along with Penelope, as Lady Hawthorne explained to her husband and a few other gentlemen where the cigar shop could be found.

  In no particular hurry, Rose admired the merchandise displayed in the windows, enjoying herself even knowing she would not be purchasing any of it.

  The building that housed Pinkerton’s Mercantile, Milliner, and Pecuniary extended the length of at least five smaller stores and stood two stories high. They carried everything from corsets to spices, and they also offered funeral services.

  Once Lady Hawthorne waved her husband away, Penelope led Lady Hawthorne, Lady Asherton, and Rose inside impatiently before disappearing into the men’s section.

  Rose, knowing Penelope would ask for but not re
ally want anyone’s opinion but her own, wandered through random aisles alone.

  So many lovely things: the prettiest tea set with tiny roses, a lovely silver locket. Oh, and such beautiful lace. She drifted through the offerings, touching a pair of delicate gloves, a parasol, not even bothering to look at the cost. And wherever would she wear such items? While taking nuncheon with the housekeeper?

  “Exquisite. Don’t you think?” Lady Asherton had sidled up behind her. “But utterly impractical.”

  Rose stepped back and allowed Penelope’s sister-in-law to examine the parasol. “You ought to buy it,” she offered. Knowing all the loss the widow suffered over the past few years, Rose surmised the lady deserved something pretty and frivolous for herself.

  Lady Asherton tended to dress conservatively, choosing to remain in full mourning for her mother since a year had yet to pass. Although she’d never been anything but polite to Rose, she’d distanced herself from her brother and Penelope. Rose suspected the lady considered herself a nuisance and a bothersome relative to be residing at Land’s End, which Rose knew was not true. Penelope had expressed such concern on a few occasions.

  Would a woman such as Lady Asherton make a good wife to Lord Darlington? She was beautiful, refined, elegant. Eminently suitable. But Rose rather thought she wasn’t the right lady for him. The two of them as a married couple would be akin to drinking tea without sugar for the remainder of their lives.

  Darlington needed more sweetness, more sparkling delight to add joy to his life. As did Lady Asherton, for that matter.

  She shook her head at the course her thoughts had taken. Did Rose consider herself the sweetness he needed?

  Of course not.

  Although she found him attractive, such contemplations were best shoved from her imagination. A viscount! Of all things!

  As though her fantastical thoughts had summoned him, the bell on the entrance to the store jingled. Dressed in a top hat, greatcoat, and shining Hessians, Viscount Darlington’s presence could be felt from across the room.

  He’d ridden outside in the wind and yet his hat sat perfectly level and his coat appeared freshly pressed. His crystal blue gaze barely swept the room before landing upon her.