Scandalous Intentions (3 page)

“My lord.”

Julian opened his eyes, and the valet handed him an ornate silver looking glass.

He studied the man’s work before standing. “Much improved.”

The valet moved to the wardrobe and selected day clothes. Once dressed, Julian headed down to the dining room where he found his parents enjoying an afternoon snack.

“You must be famished, dear,” Mother said. “Please join us. I will have the staff bring you a feast.”

“A feast is not necessary. A snack will suffice.” Julian grinned as he reached for a finger sandwich. A maid stepped forward and filled his glass.

“It is a bit late to call on Lady Sarah now,” Father said. “You will not meet your deadline sleeping the day away.”

Mother sighed from the foot of the table. “Can our son not enjoy a meal? He said he is courting her. He knows what he must do.”

“Very well, I will say no more on the matter.” Father sipped his wine.

Thank God for Mother’s interference. If not for her, he would have come to blows with Father long ago.

Mother looked at him. “Have you been to the opera of late?”

“No, I cannot say that I have.” Julian took a bite of his sandwich.

“Your father and I attended a fortnight ago. We had a splendid time.” She waved her hand through the air in a dramatic flair. “The Royal Opera House was full to capacity. All of the lords and ladies seemed enthralled as the show took place. Lady Othelia said--”

Julian stood. “I must be getting back to London.” He gave each of his parents a nod. “Forgive me, Mother.” He loved her, but she did tend to go on at the worst times.

“Yes, of course, dear. The day grows late.”

A stab of regret went through Julian at the way he had just treated his mother. She did not look the least bit taken back by his abruptness. She had likely become used to such behavior from his father. His wife would never experience such ill treatment.

Julian turned and left the room before Father had a chance to speak. When he reached the entrance, he ordered his horse brought around then stood on the massive stone porch to wait.

He suspected his Mother’s comments were directed at him in more ways than one. A grin flashed across his face. Perchance he would see Lady Sarah after all. He tapped his foot and glanced at the horizon. If he hurried, he could make London well before dusk.

When his beast appeared, he mounted, ordering his carriage delivered to London without delay. Julian did not wait for a response from the stable lad before he spurred the beast into motion and raced away from his parents’ estate.

The sun passed its highest zenith hours before Julian reached his stable at Luvington house. Nightfall would be upon London in mere hours. He dismounted and tossed the reins to a groom. “See that he receives food and water right away.”

“Yes, my lord.” The groom bowed.

Julian moved toward his townhouse with a quick gait. He needed to get things set for this evening. If all went well, he would be in Lady Sarah’s company by nightfall. Lucky for him, the Marquess and Marchioness of Havenshire were acquainted with his family in a friendly way.

His under-butler opened the English oak door to the entrance hall as Julian approached. “Welcome home, my lord,” he said as he bowed then took Julian’s gloves and riding coat.

Julian nodded and handed his hat to the servant. “Send a footman to my office in five minutes.”

“As you wish, my lord.”

He strode to his office and sat at his hand carved cherry wood desk. The crisp spring air drifting in from the window cooled his nerves. He penned an invitation, then lay it flat on the desk before writing the Marquess and Marchioness of Havenshire’s names upon it. After flipping it over he closed it with his seal.

Julian rubbed a hand across his face. He hoped the Havenshire’s connection with his family would be enough for them to accept. If not, his father’s status should suit. Would Lady Sarah be angry? He hoped not, but then he had enjoyed seeing her miffed at the ball.

Not that he wished to upset her, he did not. But the way she had pinned him under her gaze proved adorable. Julian shook his head. It did not signify. As long as she showed herself, he would be happy.

A footman knocked on the door frame, causing him to glance away from the invitation in his hand.

“Enter.” Julian stood and met the servant halfway. He handed him the invitation. “Deliver this to the Marquess and Marchioness of Havenshire without delay. Have someone send my valet up to my suite on your way out.”

“Yes, my lord.” The footman rushed from the room.

Pulse quickening, Julian trekked to his room. He needed to see Lady Sarah. Father’s words bounced around his head, and urgency filled his soul. But something more tugged at him. He genuinely liked the lady, and there was no denying his attraction to her. A far cry from love, but a fire had undeniably flared in him when he touched her at the ball.

Julian exhaled a deep breath and began to prepare for the evening.

SCANDALOUS INTENTIONS

CHAPTER THREE

“My lady.”

Sarah peeked up through her lashes at the young maid who stood before her. She closed the astronomy book on her lap and tipped her head up as the maid curtsied.

“Lady Roseington requests your presence in the drawing room.”

Sarah nodded. Once the maid left, she pressed her lips together, heart sinking. What could mother want that required interrupting her? Father promised to bring out his telescope so they could observe the heavens. Now it would have to wait.

Still clutching the book, she stood and straightened her taffeta skirts with her free hand. She strolled across the cobblestones toward the townhouse. Had something awful happened? Her chest tightened with each step she took.

Whatever this was about, it must be of the utmost importance, as mother rarely sent for her. The need seldom presented itself. They saw each other several times a day, prearranged for outings, family gatherings, and social events. The last time mother summoned her, it was due to a family crisis. She quickened her pace.

Entering through the door in a most unladylike way, she passed her book to the butler and continued toward the drawing room.
Pray, let everything be as it should.

The moment she entered the drawing room, her gaze met Mother’s. She sat on the settee, sewing. Bright sunlight poured through a stain-glass window and washed Mother’s pale blond tresses in a kaleidoscope of color while she slowly pulled a needle through the cloth she held in her gloved hand.

Sarah took a calming breath and tried to steady her shaking hands. Nothing seemed amiss.

Mother set her stitching aside and studied Sarah. The slightest trace of amusement lit her turquoise eyes.

Sarah moved farther into the room. “You wanted to see me.” She arranged herself on a velvet wing-back chair near the settee.

“Yes, dear. We received an invitation to attend the opera tonight at Covent Garden, the Royal Opera House.” Mother grinned. “I wanted to ensure you would have plenty of time to prepare.” She took Sarah’s hand in hers. “It appears my interpretation of last night’s events were accurate.”

“To what interpretation do you refer?” She nibbled her bottom lip and waited for Mother’s reply.
Please, let it not have to do with Julian Carrington.

“Why, your admirer of course. I told you Lord Luvington appeared to be smitten with you. He has invited us to join him in his private box. It is so wonderful.” She squeezed Sarah’s hand before releasing it.

Sarah straightened her back and averted her gaze. “It is awful, Mother. He is a notorious rake.” She glanced back at Mother. “No good can come of this.” She stood and paced to the hearth before turning back. “Think of my reputation.”

“Mind your manners, Sarah. Think of the damage to all of our reputations if we refuse. It would be rude to deny the invitation if for no other reason than his father is a duke.” Mother peered at her. “Do, come, and sit back down. Your reputation will not be tarnished simply from being in his company.”

Sarah did as Mother requested, exhaling as she lowered herself onto the chair. “Of course, my apologies.” She rested her hands on her lap.

Mother tipped her chin toward Sarah and beamed. “To think you could well be a duchess someday. Far better suited to you than the scholarly path you currently pursue.”

Sarah closed her eyes for a moment when she opened them she met Mother’s gaze. “You know perfectly well I intend to marry for love or not at all, Mother. I could not love a rake for he would only break my heart. Nothing will change my mind.” Why did Mother continue to fight her on this?

Cheeks taking on a scarlet hue, Mother stood and paced to the door. “I know where you stand on the subject but it will not harm you to keep company with Lord Luvington. Your father and I will be there as well. I expect you to prepare yourself properly and at least pretend to be grateful for the invitation.”

She twirled back to face Sarah, her mouth set in a fine line. “Many a lady would be honored to spend their time with a powerful and handsome marquess.”

Sarah swallowed her retort. She would gain no ground by arguing the point. She stood and placed a hand on her abdomen as her stomach rolled. “I shall be on my best behavior, Mother.”

“That is better. Now, go ready yourself.” Mother’s eyes glowed.

Sarah nodded and then moved faster than a lady ought from the parlor and toward the stairs. She longed for the sanctuary of her room.

“Wear that new violet gown we ordered a fortnight ago, it enhances your eyes,” Mother called after her.

Stilling, Sarah glanced back over her shoulder. “Very well, Mother.” Grabbing hold of the banister, she hurried up the steps. She could not care less how her eyes appeared to the scoundrel. If she were less of a lady, she would dress in rags to scare him off.

Lord Luvington would no doubt destroy her reputation. She would never be allowed in polite society again if he continued to pursue her. Or worse, she would be forced to marry him.

Sarah shuddered as she entered her room and sat at her vanity. She reached up with one hand and pinched a curl between her fingers weaving it back and forth between them as she fretted. How could Mother expect her to allow a blackguard to court her?

She could not give a fig that he was in line for a duchy. It did nothing to remedy his damaged reputation.

Could that be his angle? She gazed at her reflection in the beveled looking glass. Was it possible he was attempting to repair his deplorable reputation by spending time with her?

The thought held merit. Perhaps she had discovered how to get rid of his unwanted attention. She released the strand of hair she had been fiddling with and grinned. Could it be so simple?

Pushing off the plush velvet bench, she moved to the call cord. A newfound lightness added a bounce to her step. After summoning her maid, Sarah positioned herself by the arched window and grabbed hold of the muslin curtain with one hand as she stared out at London. Contemplating. If she were indeed correct, it would be imperative to make Lord Luvington see her as less of a lady. Could she carry out a plan to drive him away without harming her reputation?

How unfortunate Amelia could not be here now. She would have a plan. Sarah giggled at her involvement in last season’s shenanigans. She could hardly believe Amelia convinced her to help. And the Duchess of Abernathy as well. The way the three of them plotted was utterly scandalous.