A Matter of Choice (3 page)

She thought of the courage it took for her sisters to walk proudly at their husbands’ sides, pretending it didn’t matter that their husbands did not love them enough to be faithful. She could never be so brave.

Couldn’t David understand that she could never face Society if it was common knowledge that her husband kept a mistress? Couldn’t he understand her pride would never survive?

No, he couldn’t. He’d been unsympathetic through every argument, which was why her attempts to plead a headache and stay home tonight met with his flat refusal. Now she’d have to put up with the noise, the laughter, the gossip...and the Marquess of Montfort’s insistent demand to dance a waltz again tonight.

Her head pounded anew and she looked longingly at the open double doors that led onto the patio. She’d give anything to be able to hide in the dark until this evening was over. But that was impossible.

“Lady Allison.”

She spun around. The Earl of Archbite stood beside her.

“I was hoping you would be here tonight.”

She felt her cheeks warm. And her heart plummet. She hadn’t seen him approach. Didn’t want his attention— not tonight.

“Lord Archbite.” She pasted a friendly smile on her face though she didn’t feel at all like smiling. “How nice to see you.”

“There’s quite a crush tonight, isn’t there?”

“Yes. Lady Ploddingdale’s creativity is seldom surpassed.”
Allison took note of the footmen dressed in puce and lime green, and shuddered.

“Oh, yes,” Archbite continued. “Tonight’s affair is overflowing with color. Puts one in quite the festive mood, doesn’t it?”

Allison forced a smile. Inside, she cringed. Could Lord Archbite be serious? She concluded that he was.
Ugh!
“Yes,” she answered, because an answer seemed necessary. “It’s very...festive.”

She scanned the growing crowd as she listened to the music the orchestra played from the other side of the room. They were in the middle of a quadrille, and after the quadrille, they generally played a waltz. Her pulse raced and her blood pounded harder in her head. Perhaps tonight he would not bother her. Perhaps she’d set him down hard enough the last time that she’d convinced him she didn’t intend to dance with him—ever.

The music ended and the dancers moved to find partners for the next set. She lifted her gaze to look around the room and her heart stuttered in her chest. He was coming toward her, his broad shoulders filling his handsomely tailored jacket to perfection, his expertly tied cravat glowing a brilliant white against his bronzed skin. The corners of his mouth lifted slightly. Then his gaze locked with hers and his lips parted to a wide-open smile.

From halfway across the room he graced her with a look so breathtaking it stole the air from her body. How dare he bother her again tonight. What more did she have to do to convince him she didn’t want him anywhere near her?

Her temper simmered at a slow boil as she prepared to give him the set-down he deserved.

“…haven’t forgotten. Have you?” Percy finished, pulling her b
ack from her nightmare.

She shook her head. “I’m sorry. What did you say?”

“I wanted to remind you of Mother’s musicale tomorrow night.”

She tried to take a deep breath and find a reply to Percy’s question but found it impossible. The Marquess of Montfort stood directly behind Percy.

He towered over poor Percy by almost a head, and his shoulders outstretched Percy’s by nearly half a foot on either side. Percy looked more effeminate tonight than usual. Montfort more threatening.

So far, Percy hadn’t noticed Montfort standing behind him. She prayed he wouldn’t turn around. She feared Montfort might startle him.

“Your mother what?”

“Her musical. I want to make sure you plan to attend.”

She forced a smile. “I wouldn’t miss it for the world.”

“Wonderful. Do you need transportation? I could send a carriage for you?”

Montfort rudely shook his head as if to prompt her refusal.

“Ah, no.” She directed an angry glare in Montfort’s direction. “Thank you, but that won’t be necessary. My brother and his wife also plan to attend. I’ll come with them.”

Montfort gave her a nod, as if her answer met with his approval.

“I also wondered,” Percy said hesitantly, “if you would be available for callers tomorrow afternoon?”

Montfort lifted his brows and crossed his arms over his chest, as if he, too, were interested in her answer.

“If you are receiving, I would like to call on you.”

Montfort’s brows furrowed into a deep frown and he shook his head as if he expected her to heed his advice and refuse Lord Archbite’s request to visit.

“I have no plans to go out,” she answered. Regrettably, her words came out clipped and angry, and Percy looked at her in confusion. He hesitated with uncertainty before he continued.

“Perhaps then we could take a drive through the park?”

Montfort shook his head harder and Allison gritted her teeth in frustration.

“No! Yes! I would be delighted!”

Percy blinked twice when she growled out her answer and looked at her as if she’d taken leave of her senses. “Unless, of course, you’d prefer not to,” he stammered. “Or it rains.”

The tone of his voice was filled with trepidation. She knew her flare of temper confused and intimidated him.

“No, I’d love to.” Her head pounded, her cheeks burned, her temper neared the boiling point. And the orchestra struck a waltz.

The Marquess of Montfort picked that moment to step out from behind Percy. “Lady Allison.” He bowed graciously before her. “I believe this is my waltz.”

“No!”

Several people standing nearby turned to look at her. Even Percy stared at her in wide-eyed astonishment. Only Montfort smiled.

“Please,” he said, placing his hand over his heart. “I beg of you. Don’t turn me away brokenhearted again.”

In an uncharacteristic show of bravery, Percy lifted his shoulders and faced the dragon in her defense. “The lady made it quite clear that she doesn’t want to dance with you.”

Montfort’s narrowed gaze drilled Percy and a cold chill washed over her.

Neither man moved a muscle.

The expression on Montfort’s face darkened and she knew only raw determination kept Percy from shrinking away.

She held her breath. They looked like David and Goliath facing each other. Only Allison’s David didn’t have any special advantage on his side. Montfort didn’t need any.

“I believe I was speaking to Lady Allison,” Montfort responded, his tone soft and deadly. Allison heard the threat in his voice. Felt the danger.

Percy obviously didn’t. He puffed his narrow shoulders. “And I believe I heard the lady say she did not want to dance with you.”

A muscle at the side of Montfort’s jaw twitched. This had gone far enough. Of course, she was not concerned for Montfort, but for Percy. She knew she had to stop the two adversaries before they caused a scene. Before Percy got hurt.

“I have changed my mind, Lord Archbite.” She placed her hand on Percy’s arm. “I did promise Lord Montfort this dance.” She turned to Montfort. “I apologize, my lord. I forgot.”

“Are you sure?” Percy asked. The look on his face told her he would fight to the death for her.

“Yes, I’m sure.”

With an angry scowl, Percy stepped back when Montfort extended his arm.

She hesitated, then placed her hand on Montfort’s sleeve. She could feel Percy’s glare as they made their way onto the dance floor.

“Why are you doing this?” she said under her breath when he pulled her toward him to begin their dance.

She couldn’t remember ever being so angry. She had always been able to brush suitors off. Why was Montfort so different? He wasn’t serious about courting her. He’d made that fact perfectly clear the first time they’d met.

“Doing what?” He stepped in perfect time to the lilting waltz, effortlessly gliding across the floor with her in his arms. He was an expert dancer. But she knew he would be. She pursed her lips in an angry pout.

“Don’t play the fool, my lord. You know exactly what I mean. Pursuing me when I have made it more than clear that I want nothing whatsoever to do with you. Bothering me when I have repeatedly indicated I don’t want you anywhere near.”

“Is that what your refusals meant?” The look of innocence on his face was almost laughable.

“You know it is.”

He executed another turn and held her even closer. She pulled away. “It’s not proper to hold me so close. People will talk.”

“People are already talking. Dancing with me is cause for people to talk.” He arched an eyebrow, which gave him a dark, rakish look. “I have a reputation, you know.”

She rolled her eyes heavenward. “Everyone knows your reputation. You’ve done nothing by your words or actions to quell the wild rumors and speculation that surround you.”

“Is that admiration I hear in your voice?”

Allison nearly stumbled over her feet. “It most certainly is not. I find your actions reprehensible. And you have yet to answer my question. Why are you doing this?”

“If you must know, I have decided to save you.” He pulled her closer. His arms held her securely as they moved across the dance floor and she felt…safe.

Her skin tingled where he touched her. The room seemed much warmer than before. “Save me from what?” She kept her voice low enough not to draw attention.

“From Lord Archbite, of course.”

She came to a halt and tried to pull out of his arms. The marquess countered her actions by clamping his hand around her waist and leading her to the side of the dance floor. The minute they stepped through the open double doors and onto the flagstone terrace, she spun around to face him. “From Lord Archbite? How dare you!”

He escorted her to the secluded side of the patio where they could not be overheard. “It is quite obvious, Lady Allison, that you have come back into Society to find a husband.”

She felt her cheeks blaze. She had a difficult time keeping her pointed gaze focused on him.

“There’s no need to deny it. There’s nothing unusual about a woman desperate to find a husband. You are, after all, not that young any more.” He held up his hand when she started to say something. “We’ve already covered the advantages of love and marriage and know each other’s viewpoints. I wish you every success in your endeavor. I have therefore decided to assist you.”

“You pompous idiot.” She clenched her teeth and struggled to hold her temper. “You arrogant—”

Montfort held up his hand to stop her words. “You almost have Archbite where you want him. Ready to take the fall. It is obvious to even the most disinterested observer that he is prepared to ask for your hand.”

Allison knew what he said was true, but hearing the words out loud caused a sickening weight to churn in the pit of her stomach. “Lord Achbite’s intentions are none of your concern.”

“But they are. Surely you know the two of you are not the least suited?”

Allison’s hands fisted at her side so tightly they ached. “Of all the—“

“Oh, really, Allie.” He leaned casually against a corner pillar anchoring the balustrade and crossed his arms over his chest. For several uncomfortable seconds he stared at her with a serious look on his face.

He appeared even more the rake than before and her heart pounded harder in her breast. If she wasn’t careful her temper would get the better of her. No one could infuriate her like he could.

“You’re not a fool, my lady. Surely you’ve considered the drawbacks to marrying Archbite?”

“There are no drawbacks. Lord Archbite is sincere in his suit. He is wealthy beyond measure and would not marry me only for my dowry. And most of all, he doesn’t have the reputation of a scoundrel. He’s not famous for his mistresses, or for trying to seduce every female he meets.”

“Are you referring to me?”

The amused glint in his eyes only made her angrier. “If the boot fits…”

He gave her a hearty laugh. “And how do you intend to compete with his mother.”

“His mother? I’m not marrying his mother.”

“But you are. The strings that connect the two are inseparable. Archbite has not made a move since he was out of nappies without first consulting dear Mama. He is not strong enough to begin now. Which leads us to another problem.”

He lowered himself to the balustrade railing and sat. This put him at eye level with her, on an even field. Her courage surged with renewed vigor. “And that would be?” She anchored her fists on her hips.

“He is not strong enough to be your match. You would devour him within a week.”

Allison could not hide her shock. “I do not need a husband who is strong.”

“But you do. Or you will run over him at every turn and be unhappy for the rest of your life.”

She stood speechless, her heart not sure how fast or slow to beat. “You must think very little of me,” she said when she could again speak.

“On the contrary. I think quite highly of you. I recognize your strengths and know you wouldn’t be content with a weak husband for even a day, let alone your entire life.”

“I see you consider yourself an expert on the qualities that attract a man and a woman. How is it, sir, that you are not married? Can you recognize these characteristics in everyone but yourself?”