Scandal at Vauxhall (Pleasure Garden Follies) (4 page)

“My dear, I have
no desire to give you an account of all my comings and goings. I should be the
one to ask, while you were married to the cad, did you not think of me? And why
all the hostility? Darling, I mean to ensure your safety. Downsbury was being
positively outrageous with his claims. I will not have him patronizing you in
any way.”

“You give
yourself far too much credit, Lord Thompson.”

“Frankly, I
don’t think I give myself enough. Right when you think you are doing an
honorable gesture, you are shot down. I have no idea what I have done to earn such
poor behavior, but if I have offended you in any manner, you have my deepest
apologies.”

Pfft
.
“Have no idea? You only barged into my home, manhandled the duke—who happens to
be a fellow peer—and threw him out of my house.”

“I did not like
his tone,” he growled. “Isabel, he was out of line!”

“He might have
been out of line, but I do have staff to ensure my safety, My Lord. Now, if you
are quite finished, I would like to get back to my company.”

He stared at her
as if she had three heads. “If that is what you wish, then I will depart, but
before I leave I should impart on you with some words of wisdom. Whatever he is
up to reeks of mayhem and disaster, and this is far from over.”

Nathaniel
stormed out of the parlor, the front door slamming behind him. She had injured
his feelings. There had been hurt and regret in his eyes. Now that he was out
of sight, her stomach turned. How she wished she could take her words back. She
owed him an apology.

* * * *

Isabel glared at
Cecily, who now stood only steps away, shaking her head disapprovingly. While
today was a new day, yesterday’s excitement had weighed heavily on her mind,
keeping her from a restful sleep.

“You know if it
were not for the kindness and interference of his lordship, providence only
knows what would have transpired.” Cecily shifted her eyes to the very same
doorway out of which the Duke of Downsbury had been escorted the day before.
“Furthermore, I daresay, if it weren’t for his lordship’s quick wits, not even
vapors would have brought you out of the state you were in. I, for one, am glad
for his intrusion.”

Isabel wanted to
agree with her, yet refused to concede. “Honestly, Cecily, in all the years
we’ve been friends, you have never once abandoned me. And now, here we stand,
and you have all but taken his side in the matter.”

“What matter,
Isabel?” She closed the distance between them, wrapping her arms around her.
“My dearest friend, you will always be the sister I never had. I would never
forsake a friend for a man, let alone the Marquess of Stoughton, but believe me
when I say he wants to make
 
amends, if
not more.”

Isabel desired
nothing more than to push away the mere thought of her and the
marquess
entangled again.
No
. Her time to prove to herself that she did not require the
approval of her parents, friends, or the
haute
ton
was now.

Being a widow
would yet prove most advantageous to her independence. She would not have to
rely on a man approving household changes. She could move out of the city to wherever
she wished. She could even travel to the continent or the Americas.

In a feeble
attempt to stray from the seriousness of the discussion, she pulled away from
Cecily’s embrace and smiled. “I assure you, my darling, I am fine. I will
recover and move on as I did when Henry passed.” She sighed and fiddled with
her gloves. “I can’t believe you managed to convince Robbie to take us,” Isabel
whispered.

“Really, Isabel,
did you think my brother would miss the opportunity to escort us—you—to
Vauxhall and Bath? I think not. I dare say, the moment I suggested it, he was
positively beaming.”

Oh.
Isabel had entirely forgotten how smitten Cecily’s eldest brother was with her.

Robert Turner the
Third had only just returned from the war in hopes to finally marry his betrothed.
What he had not expected to find was that she had gone off to Gretna Green and
eloped with some other fool.

Unfortunately, Robert
would not find happiness with her. She liked him well enough, but never saw him
in a romantic way. Though, he was handsome and had the Turner family’s charming
dark brown hair, bright blue eyes, and dashing smile.

Contemplations about
the kind of life she and Nathaniel could have had intruded her mind once again,
never giving her an ounce of peace. Would they have had a brood of children by
now? Or taken up residence in his family estate? What would it be like to feel
his lips against hers after all this time? His hands raking her body up and
down? His wicked tongue delighting her in ways she had only read about in the
French novels her friends often shared?

An unfamiliar
feeling washed over her, desire mixed with fear and possibly envy. They could
never be. Proper etiquette dictated that she wait a period of one year for
mourning.
But why should I?
Her late
husband would not have hesitated to leave her funeral and find himself in bed
with his mistress.

The sound of
horses outside aroused her attention. She approached the window and spotted six
magnificent, speckled grays tethered to a beautiful, black-lacquered carriage.
Both ladies stood in silence, waiting for the occupant to emerge.

They glanced at
each other, speaking at the same time. “Who do you think it is?”

Time seemed to drag
for an eternity before another carriage appeared down the lane.

“Robbie!” Cecily
squealed excitedly, recognizing their family carriage, only to be silenced as
the Marquess of Stoughton stepped out from the first one.

Gasping
collectively, Isabel groaned. “Good Lord!”

“It is about
bloody time, if you ask me!” Cecily cheered.

Isabel’s heart
thundered in her ears, barely finding breath.
Why is he here?
He knew full well her intentions, and truthfully,
she had never known him to make such house calls with a team of horses.
What is he up to?

* * * *

Nathaniel made
haste in exiting the confines of his carriage. He hated the damned thing and
disliked even more to be brought to such lengths in demonstrating his
affections. For him, there were better ways to show a lady appreciation and
admiration, to declare undying devotion without having to ride a team of horses
to the steps of a dowager’s door.

Yes, he loved
her now, as much as he did then. He would do anything to secure her confidence.
And heaven forbid anyone who got in his way.

The moment he
had found out about the arrangement her father had made, the overwhelming fear
of never seeing her again had pummeled his heart down his throat and into the
pits of hell. And only Isabel could rescue it. He did not want to spend the
rest of his life with anyone other than her.

Bound by his
bullocks and determination, he would finally make Isabel, Lady Brimley, his. Now
would be as close as he could get to for a second chance. He was certain there
would never be another opportunity as such.

Adjusting his
cravat, Nathaniel noticed the curtain fall into place in the parlor.
Is Isabel watching from the window? Or maybe
a servant?
With no previous arrangement, he truly hoped Isabel would
receive him. Allow him to escort her to Vauxhall and, perhaps, further on to
Bath.

They could use
the sojourn to become reacquainted in more than one way—just as in their
youth—in complete and total abandon. With no need to fret over disappointing
either set of parents, nor risking his title, they were free to explore as they
wished.

As Nathaniel was
about to knock, the door opened and her butler stood before him, flashing an
amused grin. “My Lord, the ladies will see you in the drawing room.”

He wondered who
exactly was here, but given Isabel had been in the company of a female
companion night before, perhaps she had returned to check on her. They would
surely protest his return and his mannerisms from the previous night. Not that
anyone’s opinions mattered, as Isabel’s well-being was a priority, next to her
pleasure, of course.

Led away from
the foyer, he was received in the same room as yesterday, only today Isabel sat
quietly with Miss Turner at her side. Both ladies rose and curtsied. “To what
do we owe this pleasure, My Lord?”

He found the
flush of her face fascinating. The thought of sliding his fingers across the
rosy flesh made him wonder if her entire body would blush the same way.
What an ill-timed thought. Get a hold of
yourself, man! You are here to strengthen your bond with the woman.
He
smiled. “Well, Your Grace, it was my desire to speak with you. Alone, that is.”

The instant grin
on Miss Turner’s face was infectious. He smirked in return, only to have Isabel
leap from her seat. “You cannot expect me to ask my guest to leave.”

Miss Turner
giggled and waved her gloved hand. “Hush, darling. Think nothing of it. I shall
step outside briefly to see if Robbie is ready to leave.” Slightly turning, she
curtsied and rushed out of the door.

Scrutinizing the
wary glances Isabel delivered, he stepped toward her, capturing in the faint
floral scent encapsulating her. Isabel’s beauty mesmerized him, increasing his
need for her exponentially. Her devilish, violet eyes scorned him for the
interruption, yet the way she colored from the apple of her cheeks to her neck
noted a much more fiery reaction to his presence.

His eyes moved
to the swell of her breasts, distracting him even further. He shifted his
stance to accommodate the increasing bulge in his pants.

“Well now, I
hope you are satisfied, Lord Thompson. Not only have you succeeded in bullying
your way for a bit of privacy, you have managed to clear the room in a mere few
seconds. You may sit. Shall I ring for refreshment?”

She waved for
him to sit opposite of her, but Nathaniel chose to sit next to her instead. He
dragged another chair from the lone table in the far corner of the room and
moved it next to hers. “Tea would be nice but not necessary. We will be leaving
shortly. Have your butler summon my footman to take your things to my
carriage.”

She stiffened,
and her eyes widened. “Have I misunderstood you, My Lord? Did I just hear you say
you will be taking me to both Vauxhall and Bath in
your
carriage?”

Yes.
You heard me well. I will not leave your side ever again,
he wanted to say, but only grinned and winked at her.

“I assure you,
madam, your hearing is in perfect health. Yes, I will escort you. Nevertheless,
you will still be in the company of Mr. and Miss Turner. I would not dream of
your dismissing them so easily. Though, I am rather thankful for the
opportunity for us to be reacquainted.” In truth, Nathaniel was ecstatic, his
nerves threatening to reveal his true feelings.

“My Lord, this
is highly improper—” Her outburst was cut short as Miss Turner returned with
her brother.

“By the by, this
is a pleasure, My Lord!” Robbie gleefully smiled. “So we’re a party of four,
then? Well, we must not tarry.”

Nathaniel rose
from his seat and offered a hand to her ladyship. “Madam, if I may have the
pleasure of escorting you?”

Both men bowed
to each other.

Isabel’s eyes
narrowed. “You may, for now.”

“Smashing. Now
come along, we shall not keep the Turners waiting.”
And I really cannot wait to get you alone. I have waited so long.

* * * *

Isabel stood in
the middle of the path in awe. “Oh, Robbie, it is beautiful here.”

Cecily fanned
herself incessantly as she took in the general splendor of the grounds. Ladies
in all the fashionable wear the times had to offer, dapper gentlemen escorting
them, and simply the general liveliness surrounding them.

Nathaniel bent
his head, whispering into Isabel’s ear, “Not nearly as beautiful as Your Grace,
I might add.”

Isabel blushed,
simply replying with a coy smile. She turned her attention to Cecily. While she
adored her most cherished friend, Isabel feared the giddiness ready to burst would
draw unnecessary attention. “Calm yourself, sister. Or half of London’s elite
will vouch for us to be denied entry. We wouldn’t want that to happen, would
we?”

Cecily walked
with her brother while Isabel took the
marquess
’ arm
and followed their lead.

Vauxhall’s
reputation for being elegant and enchanting certainly rang true. Then there was
the pleasure garden.
Why exactly do they
call it that?
She wondered, trying to avoid any scandalous images the mere
title brought on.

Her eyes fixed
in the direction of the orchard and would not move, as if drawn to some
mythical landscape where knowledge, escape, and trouble awaited. It would be
rude of her to abandon Robbie and Cecily, but on second thought, branching off
might not prove to be a bad idea. Cecily would experience London’s favorite
playground, and Robbie would perhaps meet a lady or two who might elevate his
status.