Tenacious Trents 01 - A Misguided Lord (9 page)

But, he wasn’t his father. Yet, did he
risk marrying a woman who had an easy laugh, who was happy and ran
in parks? A woman he lusted after?

No. He turned his back on the room and
stared out into the dark garden. There was a reason he needed to
marry someone who was sweet, kind and biddable. It was necessary
for his peace of mind and peace within the household.

Yet why was it Miss Westin who invaded
his dreams at night? He barely knew her, yet she was in his
thoughts when he least expected it.

Perhaps if he found a lady more
suitable to be his wife than Lady Anne, he could forget the hoyden
across the room. Yes. That was it. He simply needed to find a more
suitable lady. With those thoughts, Clayton returned to the
ballroom and began to look once again for the lady to become his
countess.

The perfect candidate stood not far
away. She wasn’t titled and came from a humble background. Clay
racked his brain for a name. Oh, yes, Miss Audrey Montgomery. She
was a lovely lady with golden hair and soft brown eyes. Her smile
was radiant and she was at ease with herself.

Clayton pulled away from the wall and
sauntered over for an introduction. She wasn’t as lovely as Miss
Westin, but prettier than Lady Anne. Her figure wasn’t as full as
Miss Westin, yet she wasn’t overly thin as Lady Anne. And, while
she wasn’t outgoing as the woman who plagued his thoughts, Miss
Montgomery did converse often, and outside of her chaperones
earshot. Yes, she seemed to just what he needed.

There were five other gentlemen in her
company at the moment and Clay begged an introduction from the
young woman’s uncle, Lord Everston.

She smiled shyly and dipped into a
curtsey. “It is an honor, Lord Bentley.”

Clay bowed. “Might I have a
dance?”

She held her dance card out to him and
Clay had it in his fingers but a moment before Jordan was at his
side, yanking it from his hands.

“
Of all the nerve,” Miss
Montgomery hissed.

Jordan grinned, unrepentant and
penciled his name in the one and only dance left available, which
happened to be the last waltz of the evening. He grinned and handed
it back to Clay. “Sorry, old chap, she doesn’t have any dances left
for you.”

Clay arched a brow at his brother.
This was quite out of character for Jordan.

“
I have no objection to
crossing out Mr. Trent’s name and adding yours, Lord Bentley.” She
shot Jordan a look that could kill. “Especially since I already
rejected Mr. Trent’s offer to dance earlier this
evening.”

Something was going on between these
two and Clay was not about to step into the middle. “I will leave
that honor to my brother, Miss Montgomery.”

“
Brother?”

“
My younger brother, who
apparently needs to still learn some manners.”

Jordan didn’t even flinch. Instead, he
executed a courtly bow to Miss Montgomery. “I will count the
minutes until we waltz.”

She gritted her teeth and forced a
smile.

Clay bowed and walked away, Jordan at
his side.

“
Do me a favor,” Jordan
said low. “Cross Miss Montgomery off of your list of potential
wives.”

Clay looked at his brother. “You wish
her for yourself?”

A slight blush came to Jordan’s cheeks
and he glanced about. This was a very interesting turn of events.
He’d never seen his brother blush before.

“
Truthfully, I don’t know.
The woman has practically cut me each time I’ve tried to dance or
talk to her. It is really quite disconcerting. I have no idea what
she has against me. She doesn’t even know me.”

“
Perhaps your reputation
proceeds and she has already decided against you.”

Jordan stepped back rather affronted.
“That is not very fair, now is it?”

Clayton could only laugh. “Perhaps you
should change your ways if you wish for a respectable young lady
like Miss Montgomery to want your company.”

Jordan frowned. “I am not sure I wish
to go to that extreme.”

“
Then perhaps you don’t
really desire a dance with Miss Montgomery.” Clayton turned on his
heel and walked away from his brother. Regardless of whether Jordan
got his dance or not, Clay would not approach Miss Montgomery
again. She may be a lovely lady and perhaps perfect for his
purpose, but Jordan had already set his sights on her and no lady
was worth the bother if she pitted brother against
brother.

But this also left him with
the problem of finding another lady whom he could consider for his
wife. As he scanned the room his eyes lit on Miss Westin once
again.
Damn and blast
. Why was she always where he did not want her to be, pulling
him to her as a bee to flower? He had to end this infatuation he
had with her or it would be his downfall.

Maybe he should simply make her not
like him. That should be simple enough. Then he could avoid her and
the danger she posed to his sanity and life.

*

Eleanor tried not to frown when she
noted Lord Bentley walking toward her, a stern look upon his face.
The man was a conundrum. She used to believe that the Lord put
people in your life for a purpose. For the life of her, she could
not begin to understand what Lord Bentley’s purpose could be,
unless the Lord thought to provide her with irritation. First, he
was rude and pompous but lately it seemed as though he was courting
her, and was rather pleasant to be around. Yet, now he looked at
her as if would sooner bite her head off than dance. After his
short visit this afternoon, she had begun to anticipate a
courtship.

She quickly shook the thoughts away. A
walk around a ballroom, tea in the afternoon and a few dances did
not truly qualify as a courtship. If it did, then she was being
courted by almost a dozen men. Besides, he now bore a look that she
was the last person he wished to speak with.

His appearance alone did put her other
suitors to shame. Oh, they all were attractive enough. It was just
that Lord Bentley’s dark hair, green, penetrating eyes and strong
jaw added an essence the others lacked. Of course, it could also be
his height, broad shoulders and the ability to choose fabrics for
his coats that flattered his coloring. Eleanor shook herself again.
She was positive Bentley gave no thought to such frivolities of his
wardrobe. He paid servants to see to that unimportant task. She
just wished she could understand why she was attracted to him above
all others when he had the least pleasant personality. Not that he
was unlikeable, or at least not lately, but he certainly didn’t try
to charm, flirt or flatter. In fact, it would seem almost odd
coming from him.

He paused before her and bowed. “I
believe this is our dance, Miss Westin.”

She took his offered arm and allowed
him to lead her out with the other couples. Any warmth she had
glimpsed over the last two days was gone and he treated this moment
no differently than one would a business venture. Or, what she
assumed business ventures were like. They were at a ball. He should
be enjoying himself, not look as if he was about to partake in a
most distasteful act.

“
Why are you so somber,
Lord Westin?”

“
Probably the same reason
you are so frivolous. The difference in our gender,” he
countered.

Her lips had quirked with a smile.
“Oh, you see I don’t view everything in such a manner.” She
attempted to sound serious. “One certainly can’t consider you
frivolous. You take yourself much too seriously.”

She knew she risked angering him by
making such a statement but Eleanor was beyond caring and she
didn’t try and guard her words where Lord Bentley was concerned. He
was far too hard to understand with his constantly altering moods.
Besides, he had everything he could wish for in life, yet he found
no joy in his blessings. Yes, he had troubles she didn’t doubt. He
was a peer, with responsibilities that he took more seriously than
anyone else she had ever encountered. One of the few traits she did
admire in him.

Westin remained silent until the dance
ended and began to escort her back to Lady Stanhope. He stopped
halfway and turned to Eleanor. “I shall take my leave of you Miss
Westin.” With a nod of his head Lord Bentley turned and stalked
away.

Eleanor was left staring after him. He
was a waste of time and she refused to let him affect her further.
She would never understand that particular gentleman. His
personality changed with the wind.

*

Clay rose early to ride in
the park with thoughts of Miss Westin forefront in his mind. He was
beyond rude last evening. Why did she bring out the worst in him?
Why couldn’t she be the same as all other ladies of the
ton
seeking a husband,
one he could view with indifference? Why did she have to be
beautiful, intelligent and make him want things he knew better than
to want? Why did she have the power to make him long to taste her
lips again?

Knowing that he couldn’t be with her
angered him and the next thing he knew he was insulting the woman.
The more he wanted her, the more frustrated he became, and he ended
up biting the head off of anyone he spoke to. This was not the way
to go about. He needed to find a lady that he didn’t long to throw
on her back and have his way with every time he laid eyes on her.
Nor could he pursue a lady such as Lady Anne, who didn’t even tempt
him to kiss her, let alone toss up her skirts. He needed to find a
woman whom he could desire, but at the appropriate times and
locations, such as a bed chamber at night, and not in the middle of
a ballroom or the center of Hyde Park.

He should stay away from Miss Westin.
If this is how much she got under his skin when they barely knew
one another and had only shared one kiss, how much havoc would she
wreak on his life if he courted her, or worse, married her? That
would not do.

A man lusts after a
mistress, not his own wife. It ruins a marriage.
His father’s words continued to haunt him. But
Clayton paid heed to that advice. Of his father’s three marriages,
the two that were happy were marriages where his father had
not
lost his heart, or
his sanity.

Clayton needed to break from Miss
Westin. If peace of mind was what he wanted in a marriage then Miss
Westin was the last woman he should marry. If only he could stop
wanting her. It would be easier to put her from his mind if she
didn’t visit his dreams each night.

Clay blew out a frustrated breath.
Lust. He lusted after Miss Westin and wanted her in his bed. The
only way he would earn that privilege is if he married
her.

*

Eleanor gave the ballroom one last
glance as her grandmother oversaw the servants place candles and
flowers. For two weeks she had attended functions yet she had not
met one possible candidate. She refused to consider Lord Bentley as
a potential husband. He was far too hard to understand, and his
moods changed too quickly. She doubted the elusive gentleman she
should marry would be here tonight either. Suitors were not the
problem. They flocked to her house daily. The problem was none of
them, well, suited. Only Bentley added to her evenings. Drat that
man. He should simply disappear so she could concentrate on what
was important: finding a husband who would not drive her to
Bedlam.

Why was she attracted to him? None of
it made sense to her. She never had a clear idea on the type of
gentleman she would like to marry one day, but she was fairly
certain it wasn’t someone as staid as Bentley. So why did she wish
he would kiss her again?

A clocked chimed down the hall and
pulled her from her thoughts.

She raced out the door. She was in
such a hurry that she barely remembered her cloak. Eleanor
chastised herself all the way down the steps to the waiting
hackney. She should not have stopped to help with some of the
preparations for the ball. What would the children think? She saw
them very little as it was and guilt engulfed her for not being
with Benjamin through this illness. All she could hope for was
their forgiveness.

*

Clay halted his horse when he saw the
lady of his thoughts emerge from her grandfather’s home. She
hurried to the corner and entered a common hackney. Had Benjamin
worsened? Had her other brother caught the disease? Clay should
just continue on, but he found himself trailing after the hackney.
Someone should be there if Miss Westin needed
assistance.

He had a tight schedule today which
didn’t involve following a young miss. It would be the first time
since he was ten and four that he dismissed his plans on a mere
whim. The last time he had done so he had received a rather
unpleasant beating from his father. Well, his father was no longer
alive and for the first time in a very long time Clay followed his
own desires.

Miss Westin had just paid the hackney
and walked toward the door when a boy of no more than two came
running out with his arms up to be held.

“
Mama, mama,” he
cried.

Miss Westin stopped and leaned down to
pick him up, carefully balancing the packages. “Oh Jamie, you
mustn’t call me that,” she chastised and gave a quick glance around
to see if anyone was about before she entered the house.