Loving Lady Marcia (17 page)

“Lady Marcia?”

She looked up from her perch on the sofa.

It was Finn. The sparkling chandelier threw little lights all over him. Almost everyone stared avidly at the two of them, including Janice. Mama and the Jensen sisters were the exception. As usual, Mama was her serene self, gently cutting up some strawberries for an elderly baroness who apparently preferred them that way. The Jensen sisters were loudly asking for a pot of jam so they might slather some on their toast.

“Mr. Lattimore.” Marcia inclined her head. “How good to see you.”

And it was.

His splendid good looks weren’t even marred by the slight cut apparent on his lower lip. His jaw was no longer swollen. Or if it was, the height of his collar and the folds of his neck cloth disguised any remaining swelling.

He bent low and raised her hand to his lips. “Now my day is complete,” he said simply, and took a seat that someone’s godmother vacated just so he could be close to Lady Marcia.

There were discreet sighs all around the room.

The small talk had been strained and dull before he’d arrived, but within seconds, he had the room laughing. The next quarter of an hour flew by.

Marcia was still chuckling at his last remark—he’d been poking fun at his own fondness for pork pies—when he leaned forward and said earnestly to her mother, “My dear Lady Brady, I’ve come to ask if Lady Marcia—and her sister Janice—can be spared this afternoon.”

“How so?” asked Mama, her expression perfectly polite, which meant that she was just the right amount of friendly and warm—so that no one would feel slighted—but proper, too, so no one would ever dare push their luck.

“It’s been years since I’ve gone to Astley’s Amphitheatre,” he said.

There was a murmuring of approval as the circus was well-known and a favorite among Londoners.

“I have an old friend who said he can get us front row seats,” Finn went on, “and afterward, a personal tour in which Lady Marcia and Lady Janice will be allowed to pet all the horses on their noses.”

Everyone looked about themselves, their mouths agape, as if this trip to Astley’s were the most special outing a person could ever arrange.

“They’re like velvet, those noses,” one trembling old viscountess said.

The crowd nodded their heads as if she’d made an amazing pronouncement. Everyone but Marcia. In her head was an image of a leering horse with huge teeth. She’d always hated walking near the front of a horse, ever since she was a little girl and one had nipped her on the shoulder.

“I’d love to go, Mama, if it’s all right with you,” said Janice. She beamed at Marcia, assuming, no doubt, that she’d be ecstatic, as well.

“It’s perfectly fine if Marcia’s schedule allows it.” Lady Brady looked at her for her answer.

Marcia couldn’t see in Mama’s eyes how she felt about Finn or the idea of going to Astley’s.

Mama might be demanding that she enter the social whirl to find a husband, but at least she was giving Marcia a fair amount of leeway to enter it her own way, which she appreciated very much.

She was about to say no—she had business to attend to, after all, imperative business with Lord Chadwick concerning the Duke of Beauchamp and Oak Hall—when she looked at Finn in his chair. He’d a cane propped up in front of him between his spread-eagled thighs. His fists were bunched on top of that cane and his two arms, straining with muscles, extended over it. He dwarfed the walking stick, looked masterful and careless all at once in possession of it.

With stunning clarity, Marcia remembered being sheltered by those same thighs, how intimate she and Finn had been, how important he’d been to her … and how little she really knew of men, despite their brief romance.

That youthful interlude, when it was still a heady thing, had been a mere taste, she suspected, of what romance could really be.

But she’d sworn it off.

Romance.

Love.

Passion.

For good reason. Why give her heart to any respectable young man when her love was sure to be spurned once he knew of her past?

But now, looking at Finn, she thought,
Loose ends
.

He was a loose end she’d never been allowed to tie up.

Thanks to the Earl of Chadwick.

“Y-yes, Mama.” She was vastly aware of Finn’s bristling masculinity, emanating from him in waves. “I can go.”

Finn grinned at her, and her heart lifted. She was stupid to be afraid of horses and their great, gawping mouths. And one small outing to Astley’s in Finn’s company didn’t mean she would be hurt again. She’d control the situation, which was something she’d had no idea how to do when she was younger.

At that point, the room seemed unable to bear any more tension. Their guests were also on the point of overstaying their welcome. But Mama enforced the rules of polite behavior so lightly, no one even guessed they were being thrown out a few minutes later.

Finn was the last visitor to go. He had Janice laughing about the stale cakes and weak lemonade at Almack’s. The two of them ranked the hostesses in order of their likability, Lady Cowper being the clear favorite and Lady Jersey the least.

It made Marcia happy to see them chatting lightly together. Finn was obviously trying his best to be good to her family, and Janice, beautiful and sought after as she was, still seemed a trifle unsure of her own worth. Having a young man as charming as Finn pay such attention to her—especially sharing moments of merriment with her—could only help her confidence.

At the front door, he kissed both Mama’s and Janice’s hands with the proper respect and admiration, a certain amount of harmless flirting in his tone. But when he came to Marcia’s hand, he lingered before he kissed it, his face serious, his voice mute.

Mama backed discreetly away and then disappeared. Janice did, too.

After Finn gently pressed his warm lips to Marcia’s knuckles, which didn’t make her heart flutter in the least—how could it with Burbank lurking like a ghostly black presence in the corner?—he looked deeply into her eyes. “I’m so glad I’ll see you later today.”

He should win the blue ribbon for
Earnest, Endearing Young Man,
Marcia thought, and she meant it. And then she thought of another one he should win:
Epitome of Masculine Charm.
And then,
Best Face and Hair.

He waited for her response.

“I look forward to Astley’s, as well,” she said. “Does your brother know we’re going?”

Finn looked reproachfully at her. “Why? Do you want him to go with us?”

She laughed. “The party as it stands is perfectly agreeable.”

He smiled sweetly as he bowed himself out. Then she shut the door behind him before Burbank even had a chance to get near it, after which she ran quickly upstairs.

She was so excited! She didn’t even feel guilt that she’d put off discussing with Lord Chadwick the matter of Lord Beauchamp and saving the school. Half a day’s delay so she could go to Astley’s this afternoon would make no difference at all to anyone.

She could do both. And why shouldn’t she?

At her desk, just as she sat down to write a note to Lord Chadwick, Gregory walked by her bedchamber door.

“Gregory!” she called to him, replacing her quill in the inkpot.

He came back. “Yes?”

He was an excellent confidant. “Do you think it matters that I’m about to cancel an outing with Lord Chadwick … to go to Astley’s with Mr. Lattimore?”

Gregory rubbed his jaw. “It depends how skillfully you resolve the conflict.” He sent her a sympathetic grin. “The social whirl can be complicated, can it not?”

“Yes.” She bit her lip, glad that he understood. “I never really wanted to say yes to Lord Chadwick anyway, and we’re only driving in the park. Besides, I’ve already told Mr. Lattimore yes.”

“Then keep it vague. Tell the earl you have an unexpected matter to attend to. The fewer details you supply, the less likely you are to get into trouble or hurt someone’s feelings. That’s what I do.”

“Excellent advice.” She nodded and reached for her quill.

“Marcia?”

“Yes?” She heard a bit of reluctance in Gregory’s voice and halted her hand on the quill.

“Don’t you enjoy Lord Chadwick’s company?” Gregory’s Irish blue eyes registered curiosity. “I rather think he’s a stand-up fellow. I don’t know much about his brother. We’re the same age, but he was out of the country for years, and before that he was only at Oxford long enough to get sent down several times.”

“Didn’t
you
get sent down from Oxford?” she asked him.

“Of course.” Gregory gave a short laugh. “Everyone does, at least once, if they’ve got an ounce of spirit in them.” But then his brow puckered. “I wasn’t suggesting Mr. Lattimore isn’t worth your time. Merely that you should exercise caution. I know very little about him. I
do
know that his brother is a good man, however.”

She threw him an appreciative smile. “I’ll keep that in mind.”

It was an outright lie, but she couldn’t tell Gregory why Lord Chadwick would never suit her.

“Good,” he said, and left her.

Without further delay, she lifted the quill from the inkpot and wrote her note:
“Dear Lord Chadwick, I’m afraid I’ll have to postpone our drive through the park until tomorrow. I have an unexpected matter to attend to. I hope you’ll understand. Regards, Lady Marcia.”

She didn’t know what else to say. A lie about what she planned to do in place of driving with him was out of the question. But she also couldn’t tell him the truth without looking ill-mannered and possibly getting Finn into trouble.

Complications of the social whirl, indeed,
she thought with a sigh. Here she was, already caught up in it, and she’d been home only a few days.

But it was Lord Chadwick’s fault that she’d missed out on all those possibilities with Finn, wasn’t it? So she refused to feel guilty about the fact that she, of all people, was—dare she think it?—juggling men.

Chapter Thirteen

Duncan eyed himself in the looking glass. “Do I look nice, Joe?”

Joe refused to answer or look at him.

Duncan crouched on his haunches and pulled the boy over. “Tomorrow,” he said, to his downcast face. “Tomorrow morning, by gar, we’ll see that shark’s tooth.”

Joe whipped his head up, his eyes sparkling. “Really?”

“Yes. But you must be a very good boy. Now go see Ruby. She made cakes today, and I think she made one with the letter
J
on top. I wonder who that could be for?”

“Me!” Joe took off like a hare, but at the door, he almost ran into Jenkins.

“Say ‘excuse me,’” Duncan called. It was second nature now, these miniature lectures of a few words.

“’Scuse me,” said Joe, and skirted around the butler’s legs.

Duncan heard him clatter down the stairs.

“A note, my lord. It just came.” Jenkins brought him a folded piece of paper on a small silver tray.

“Thank you, Jenkins.” Duncan opened it and closed it almost immediately. “I won’t be going driving, after all.” He felt a keen sense of disappointment.

“I have an unexpected matter to attend to,”
Lady Marcia had written. He wondered what it could be.

“
That’s
a waste of a good cravat,” complained Warren.

Jenkins arched a brow. “What shall I tell Rupert, my lord?”

“Tell him I’ll be taking the curricle out the same time tomorrow. Just a delay. But I’ll need the carriage now instead.” He looked at Warren. “Your cravat won’t go to waste, after all. I’ll take Joe to Albany to see the shark’s tooth. And we’ll stop and play in Green Park.”

“Very good, sir.”

When Duncan and Joe showed up at Finn’s apartment door a half hour later, his brother answered with a grin, his cravat hanging loose. “Don’t tell me,” he said to Joe. “You’re here to clean up. My housekeeper didn’t show this morning.”

“No, I’m here to see the shark’s tooth,” Joe said, his voice serious, his eyes wide.

Finn scratched his head. “Are you sure you won’t dust the candlesticks?”

Joe nodded. “Very sure.”

“That’s all right, then,” Finn said to Joe. “Come in anyway. Let me finish my cravat first.”

Duncan rather liked Finn’s banter. He was hopeful—hopeful they could be an ordinary, loving family.

And then Finn ushered them in.

Good God, the place was a wreck. There was a feather, an earring, and two empty glasses on a table. Joe went right for the feather and began to wave it about.

“Finn,”
Duncan said. He looked at the closed door of the bedchamber.

“She’s gone,” Finn said low. “You just missed her. But she left some things behind, didn’t she? Next time you might want to send round a note first.”

“Yes, I suppose I should have.” Duncan sighed. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know you’d get to work so fast.”

Joe had run to the window and was mesmerized by the traffic below.

“A man returns home after a long absence and you don’t expect—” Finn paused. “You need to get out more, brother.”

Duncan would ignore that dig. “Where are you off to now?”

Finn’s expression became shuttered. “Astley’s. With two friends.”

“Who?” Astley’s was an innocent enough place.

Finn shrugged. “Do you really need to know all my business, Duncan? Is that fair?”

“I suppose not.” He stared at him. It was so obvious something was off. “All right, keep your friends secret. But apparently, they’re people I won’t approve of. Just remember, you’re only as good as the company you keep.”

Finn went to a small looking glass and tied his own cravat. “I’m keeping very good company, I’ll have you know. So good I did some scrambling and got last-minute tickets ringside. The best in the house.” He turned to Joe. “See that box over there? On the shelf?”

“Yes,” said Joe.

“The tooth’s in there. You can get it out.”

Joe raced over and got the box. And then he crouched down on the floor and opened the lid. Duncan saw him sort through various things and then hold aloft a hefty black triangle. “Look!” he cried.

Even Duncan was impressed.