Earl of Scandal (London Lords) (8 page)

A black cloud seemed to descend on him as he entered the stables. Even when he tried to do the right thing, it brought him little satisfaction or happiness. Was this a sign that it was too late for him? That he had spent too many years as a heartless, callous sort to ever reform?

He found William in a cozy backroom of the barn with Bob, the two discussing horse-training methods. Bob smoked a pipe, while William drank from a silver flask. The groom looked up guiltily when Christian cleared his throat. “My lord, I was just having a nip to keep warm.”

Christian nodded. “You might as well enjoy your comforts while you can. We’re leaving now.”

“But, I thought the Cassells had asked us—that is, you, sir—to dinner.”

“We don’t want to impose. Given the condition of the roads, I thought it best that we set off.”

William nodded obediently, and after stuffing the flask back into his coat pocket, hurried out.

William and Bob hitched the Northrup team behind the grays and Christian climbed up and took the reins, while William rode in the tiger’s seat at the back. Although Christian had hoped that Merissa would come to see them off—and give him one last fond memory of her beguiling face—it was Elizabeth who hurried across the yard as they were about to set off.

“My lord,” she cried. “You’re certain that you won’t honor us by joining us for dinner?”

Christian bowed. “The honor would be all mine, but I’m afraid I can’t.” Elizabeth moved nearer, her smooth brow creased with concern. “Pardon me, sir, for intruding, but did something happen between you and Merissa? She came into the house looking so out-of-sorts.”

“No, nothing happened.”

Elizabeth exhaled a sigh. “I’m so relieved. She’s so poor at guarding her tongue. People who don’t understand her forthright nature are sometimes prone to take offense.”

Christian smiled, thinking of just how “forthright” Merissa was. Poor Elizabeth would be even more distressed if she knew the cause of her sister’s moodiness. Christian abruptly decided that he was doing the right thing. He would not for the world destroy Elizabeth’s trust in him. Nor did he want to hurt Merissa, whose impetuous nature drew him like a moth to a flame.

He bowed again to Elizabeth. “Your servant, Miss Cassell. I’m deeply indebted to you for your kind hospitality. I pray that our paths will cross again someday.”

Elizabeth gave him a blindingly lovely smile; then he clicked to the horses and the curricle set off. As they turned onto the lane, Christian allowed himself one backwards glance at the neat farmhouse. He could swear he saw Merissa’s face at one of the parlor windows. The sight aroused an ache in his chest. As he turned onto the road leading to Derlingham, a gust of cold wind caught the curricle, and Christian had the strange sense that he had left the warmth and beauty of summer behind.

Six

“Devon.” Christian advanced quickly into the drawing room and shook his host’s hand. “I say, you’re back earlier than expected.”

“I told you that we don’t like to stay in London any longer than necessary. Caroline was miserable with missing the boys.”

“Ma’am.” Christian bowed to the elegant blonde beauty holding a chubby-cheeked baby in her arms. A small red-haired boy stood beside her. “Delighted to see you again, Lady Caroline. You’re looking as lovely as ever.”

“Bosh! Don’t be so formal, Christian. Come over and give me a kiss.”

Christian went and pressed his lips to Caroline’s cheek, then gravely shook hands with young Rafe.

“And kiss Michael, too,” Caroline insisted, holding out the baby. “You’re his godfather, after all. You should get to know each other.”

Christian bent to kiss the infant’s downy cheek. To his surprise, the child didn’t smell of dirty nappies but had a clean, sweet scent.

As his lips brushed the child’s forehead, the baby reached out and grabbed a handful of Christian’s hair. “There now.” Christian disengaged himself. “If you want to spar, you’ll have to grow a bit. I believe I outclass you in weight altogether.”

Rafe giggled. The baby burbled and gave him a toothless grin. “See, he likes you,” Caroline said.

“Nonsense, he’s merely jealous of my full head of hair. Poor little mite is nearly bald.”

Caroline laughed. “I think it means that he will be fair like me. My mother said that she despaired of my getting any hair. Then it grew in as masses of curls. A pity actually, I was hoping Michael would have his father’s coloring.”

Christian gave a mock shudder. “Better he should look like Caroline, don’t you think, Devon?”

“No doubt of it,” Devon responded emphatically.

“Well, I guess I’ll take Rafe back to the nursery and then see to dinner.” Caroline started to hand the baby to Devon and then said, “Would you like to hold him, Christian? He’s really quite well-behaved for nine months.”

Christian drew back and gave her an aghast look. “Good God, no. Just because I’ve consented to rot in the country for a few months doesn’t mean I’ll willingly sink into the appalling state of domesticity that Devon has. I have my reputation to uphold, you know, ma’am.”

Caroline laughed and transferred the baby to his father’s arms, then came and kissed Christian’s cheek. “We really are delighted to have you, Christian. I promise I will try to see that things aren’t too tedious. In fact, before we left London, we asked a few people up for a house party. Sort of a spring thaw assemblage.”

Christian brightened. “Truly? Whom did you invite?”

“The Norwoods and Lady Hanscum, Lord Weston and his new wife, the Beeches and the Archfields. Let me know if there is anyone else you would like me to ask. We’ll be having a few of the local gentry, of course. Not your usual set, but very nice people. I’m certain there will be some young ladies amongst them who would very much enjoy getting to know you.” She winked.

“I say, Caroline. Don’t be pushing any coy country misses my way. I have no intention of getting myself leg-shackled.”

“Married life is really not so bad,” Devon put in. “Especially if you find the right woman.”

Christian rolled his eyes. “I might have known you’d try to convert me to the virtues of matrimony now that you have me trapped here in Derlingham.”

“Really, Christian,” Caroline laughed. “You act as if we were holding you prisoner.”

Christian looked to Devon. “You haven’t told her about the wager?”

“I thought you might prefer to have Caroline believe you were drawn here by the prospect of spending time in the company of your friends rather than the opportunity to best me in a gambling venture.”

Christian’s mouth twitched. No matter what Devon said, he knew Caroline was in on the project of reforming Christian Faraday. He could well imagine the two of them on the way from London, trying to decide what dull, respectable miss they would pair him with.

“It won’t work,” he told them. “If I ever fall in love, I’m certain it would be with some utterly unacceptable wench. An orange girl or an actress, perhaps. Or maybe a comely chambermaid.” He challenged them with a grin. “Face it. I’m incorrigible. I’ll never wed, and you don’t want me breaking some sweet thing’s heart, especially while she’s a guest of yours. If you insist on finding me female companionship, I can think of some delectable matrons whose taste runs to the same sort of liaison as mine.”

“Actually an orange girl or chambermaid would be perfectly fine,” Caroline said. “If someone like that could get you to care for them, I’d welcome her into our house and insist that everyone treat her like a duchess.”

“Indeed. Well, I know a certain young lady who might change your mind.” Christian smiled, thinking of the willful Merissa Cassell tangling with elegant Caroline Langley. “She has a tongue as tart as vinegar and scorns our whole class as a bunch of despicable libertines.”

“Really, Christian. She sounds very interesting. Where did you make her acquaintance?”

“On a desolate roadway a dozen or so miles away. It was quite dark, and she refused to yield to my vehicle. Her stubbornness resulted in my curricle ending up in the ditch. Had to have the rig towed to Derlingham for repairs.”

“Ginter mentioned you had a carriage accident,” Devon said. “He also remarked that you spent the night at the woman’s house and...” he paused for emphasis, “that you seemed quite taken with her.”

Caroline’s brows rose, and a merry smile danced on her lips. “Ginter said that? How astonishing. Is it true, Christian?”

“What? That I spent the night at her house? Yes, of course it is. But mind you, if the little baggage had her way, I would have rotted there in the ditch. It was her older sister who offered me hospitality.”

“Well perhaps we should invite both of them to our little soiree,” Caroline said. “The older sister deserves our thanks for rescuing you. And the younger one —I must say that anyone who can so nimbly manage to put Christian in his place would certainly prove an entertaining guest. Don’t you agree, Devon?”

“Absolutely.” Devon flashed one of his rare and very wicked looking grins. “We must have her.”

Christian narrowed his eyes. “You don’t even know the family’s name. And I have no intention of divulging it.”

“Ah, but I’m certain William knows,” Devon said. “According to Ginter, he accompanied you there today to retrieve your horses. Given that William is my employee, I believe he will see fit to offer up information regarding your rescuers.”

Christian shrugged. “Invite her then. She won’t come. I told you, she despises all of the nobility. She would not be caught dead at such a gathering.”

“Truly?” Caroline teased. “You mean to say that she won’t be tempted to come, even knowing that it will give her a chance to torment you some more.”

As he met Caroline’s twinkling gaze, Christian had the sudden feeling that she might be right. It would be very like Merissa Cassell to accept the invitation in order to provoke him.

Not that it would be so awful if she did accept. Especially if she wore something more enticing than her usual high-necked serge dress. Merissa Cassell in a fashionable gown would be something to behold.

“Very well then,” he said. “Her name’s Merissa Cassell and she lives about ten miles the other side of Derlingham. Her father is rector of a nearby church. You’re welcome to invite the whole family if you wish. Elizabeth—she’s the older sister—might actually accept. She’s such a lovely gracious woman, she’d probably consider it rude to refuse.”

Now, there was an idea, Christian thought. If the invitation was couched in the right terms, Elizabeth might force her sister to come.

“The Cassell sisters.” Caroline nodded. “I’ll have a note sent directly.”

“Be sure to impress upon them that it is my personal wish they attend,” Christian said. “They must understand that I view their acceptance as the only possible way I can repay their kindness for taking me in.”

“Odd, isn’t it, Devon?” Caroline’ remarked. “A moment ago, Christian insisted that he would not divulge the name of his amour even under torture. Now he appears to want her to come.”

“A sad thing.” Devon gently rocked the snoozing baby in his arms. “Love makes fools of even the sharpest-witted men.”

“Love?” Christian shook his head. “Merissa Cassell’s a shrew, a real termagant. You’ll see. And she hates my bloody guts. If I were going to fall in love, I’d at least choose a woman who liked me!”

“Would you now?” Caroline smiled in a most irritating fashion.

~ ~ ~

“Don’t you see, Elizabeth, how cleverly the invitation is worded? He wants to make us feel guilty if we don’t come.” Merissa frowned as she reread the parchment note. Since it had arrived that morning, everything seemed to be at sixes and sevens. Elizabeth would insist that they go. She could not see that Christian Faraday was arrogantly manipulating them.

“How unkind of you, Merissa, accusing Lord Bedlington of dishonesty. Just because you’ve quarreled with him.”

“We did not quarrel!”

Elizabeth smoothed the embroidery in her lap. “So you say, but I cannot imagine any other reason for your bad temper these past days, nor for your rude comments regarding His Lordship either. Something has gotten your nose out of joint. Even Papa has commented on it.”

Merissa gritted her teeth: If only she could forget the irritating Mr. Faraday and restore her life to normal. But there seemed no hope for it. Even as she tried to convince herself that what had occurred between them had absolutely no significance, an invitation arrived, asking, nay, begging the Misses Cassell to attend a small soiree at Darton Park on. Friday, the 15th of March.

They could not go. That’s all there was to it, no matter that Elizabeth thought it would be the height of bad manners to refuse.

“We’ve nothing to wear,” Merissa pointed out to her sister. “The other guests will be much too grand for us. We shall look like poor church mice by comparison.”

“Pooh, I can’t think that Lord Bedlington would be impressed by such superficial nonsense. Why, he seemed so sincere, completely without presumption.”

Merissa glanced despairingly to the heavens. Mr. Faraday had certainly managed to pull the wool over her sister’s eyes. Hardly a difficult feat. Elizabeth was always eager to believe the best of everyone. “Well, perhaps it doesn’t bother you to be laughed at, but I abhor the idea. I’ve endured enough condescending glances from Mrs. Hammond to last me a lifetime.”

“There are some things of Mother’s packed away that might be made over,” Elizabeth offered timidly. “I’m certain if we put our minds to it, we could contrive some sort of respectable attire. After all, it’s not as if we are invited to an earl’s house every day.”

Elizabeth wanted to go! The notion shocked Merissa. She’d always seen her older sister as eminently practical and without a shred of vanity. Peculiar to think that Elizabeth fancied the notion of attending a party.

Of course, it would be fun to dress up for one night, to pretend to be real ladies. As the idea caught fire in Merissa’s mind, she remembered years ago when their mother had shown them the things in her special trunk—the satin, tulle, and silk flowers—and alluded to the day when they would “come out.”

But their mother had died when Elizabeth was fifteen and Merissa ten, and there had been no other female relative around to concern themselves with the girls’ social future. Merissa had always told herself that she had no interest in such foolery, but with this opportunity, she suddenly realized she nurtured a secret longing to satisfy the purely female part of herself. She dreamed of wearing something dainty and exquisite, of winning admiring glances as she danced across an elegant ballroom.