Chapter 3
Chapter Three
Ben grinned into his cup.
Mia had responded exactly as he thought she would to the suggestion of a house party. So had her father. But that was no surprise. The two men had spent countless hours trying to devise a plan to get Mia out into society more, but it had come to naught—until Ben had received the house party invitation. It was as if fate were guiding his path.
And while pushing Mia to find a husband did not set well with him, he could see the wisdom in it.
As much as Mia seemed to detest the idea, Ben would not regret suggesting it. He rather enjoyed house parties. And he had every intention of seeing that his friends were on the list of invited guests. It would be the best of worlds for him. All of his dearest friends in one place…including Mia. How long had he been trying to make that happen?
Mia avoided society’s functions as if they were the plague themselves. So, the plague had to be brought to Mia. He frowned. It did not seem so kind when he phrased it like that.
He shook of his doubts. Suggesting the party was the right of it.
His part in the plan was to make certain only the finest of gentlemen were invited. There was no reason to invite anyone who might only see Mia as her dowry. He paused, his cup halfway to his lips. What if she found the right man—one who did not need her money or rank—at her own house party? What if Mia found such a man and abandoned her plans for spinsterhood?
Lud. He pushed away the tightness forming in his chest. He did not relish losing the closeness they shared, but he wanted to see her happy. In truth, her happiness was the only thing that could force him to take such drastic action.
Mia stood up and walked over to the windows. His stomach flopped, sending his tea sloshing about—both inside him and in his cup. She was possibly the most handsome lady of his acquaintance, with her deep crimson hair and pale green eyes. Or rather, they were pale when she was at ease. Anger brought out the darker flecks that surrounded her pupil, making her eyes much more vibrant. Perhaps that is why he enjoyed vexing her so much.
While Ben saw her pale green eyes far more than the vibrant ones, most people were not as fortunate. Mia was not known in society as being the most amiable of ladies. When out in society, her face told more than her words—which were often clipped and peevish. In her first—and only—Season, she had many suitors lining up to spend time with her. But it did not take long for them to scamper off—the milksops.
Truthfully, it was only in society that her temper seemed to show. When it was just the two of them, she was kind and even rather witty. But which Mia would attend the party?
He stared at her back. She deserved someone with fortitude, someone who could appreciate her temper but also bring out her true character. Mia was the kindest person he knew. He’d never met a mistress who knew the tenants as well as her. And she likely did as much service among the village’s poor as the vicar did. But it was a side of her that few people witnessed. If Lord Minton was to find her a husband, she needed to show the gentleman all of her sides. Not just the one she put forth in public.
“Your father looks better than I’ve seen him in months.” He looked up from his biscuit.
She frowned, giving him a bland look. “He’s positively giddy.” Her voice was dull and lifeless.
Ben dropped his head back and laughed. “Come now, Mia. It is not as bad as all that. You look as if your dog has just died. It is a house party . Not a funeral.”
She heaved a heavy sigh and fell onto the couch with gusto. “I do not see the difference, Ben.”
He continued to chuckle. “For one, no one is dead.”
“Ah,” she waved her finger in his face. “That is where you are wrong. I will be dying a little each day they are here.”
“And just who are they?” Ben quirked a brow.
“They—the people who shall invade my home and steal my peace.”
Ben shook his head, still grinning. “Come. There will still be some fun to be had. After all, I will be there, will I not?”
She arched a delicate brow and leaned in toward him. “I’ve been thinking about that, and I do not know if I shall invite you. Why should I reward you for your terrible idea?” Her face showed just the right amount of pout. Not too much to be off-putting but just enough to convey her displeasure. She really was lovely.
“You are intent on punishing me, are you?” He leaned closer to her, staring her down. Was there a gentleman who could handle this woman? It was not just anyone, that was for certain. The gentleman would need to be special. But he didn’t like thinking about special men for Mia.
He would think on it another day. He wished to enjoy their time together—just the two of them—before he would have to share her with others. “If you think you can survive the party without me…” He lifted his shoulders in surrender as he stood up and strode toward the door. “Then I shall stay away. You know I only wish for your happiness.”
She jumped to her feet and hurried over to him, tugging on his arm. “Ben, wait. Don’t go.” Her voice was pleading.
He grinned. She had done just as he wanted…just as he knew she would.
“You know I shall go mad without you here to entertain me.” She looped her hands around his arm and dragged him back toward the couch. “Truly, if you do not come, I shall never speak to you again.”
Ben bit the inside of his cheek to squelch his smile. “Very well. But only if you insist. I do not wish to displease you any further.”
She rolled her eyes, surely to let him know she knew of his ploys. “I insist.” She did not sound happy, even after extracting the promise from him.
His brow furrowed slightly, and he doubted for a moment if he’d done the right thing in mentioning the house party.
Mia looked truly miserable.
“I have promised to entertain you for a fortnight, and you cannot muster a little more enthusiasm than that?” He shook his head and frowned. “You have but a few weeks to change your tune. Then I expect frivolity for the whole of the party.”
She smiled up at him, but it did not settle in her eyes. Lud, she really was doing it a bit brown. “I shall try.”
He picked up her hand and gave it a squeeze. “What is wrong, Mia? Does a house party truly cause you this much displeasure?”
“The thought of all those people…” She shook her head.
Ben frowned. Mia had never enjoyed large groups, but he’d always thought she was being stubborn. But the look on her face was more tense than grumpy. Was it the sheer number of people that bothered her? Or the party itself?
Her lips fluttered as her breath came out in a whoosh, and she dropped onto the couch. “And knowing this house party is only a means for my father to secure me a husband. I’m certain he believes if he invites the right gentlemen, I will give up my plans to remain unmarried.”
“Is he right?”
Mia glanced over at him, then shook her head. “No.”
Ben shrugged and settled on the couch next to her, picking up his teacup and unfinished biscuit. “He only wants your happiness, Mia. You know that. But what can he do if the party comes and goes and still you have no attachments?”
She grunted. The sound would appall mothers across the ton , but Mia didn’t seem to care. It was one thing Ben loved about her.
“But really, is marriage so terrible? What if you find someone and fall in love?” His stomach clenched. His breakfast had not settled as well as he’d hoped.
She snorted. “As if that happens.”
Ben grinned at her unladylike behavior. “Whether or not you believe it, it does happen. Quite often these days, from what I hear.”
She smirked at him. “Love matches are fashionable, I suppose. But I have yet to see anyone truly in love with anything but their spouse’s money or title.”
He wagged his finger at her. “Perhaps if you had stayed for the whole of Heatherton’s house party last year, you would have seen it for yourself. Both Heatherton and Stoke married for love, and they are ridiculously happy. It’s rather odious at times.”
She narrowed her eyes at him, but then her laugh won out. “And that is what my father and you wish for me? To be odious?”
Ben laughed with her. “No. But we do wish for you to be ridiculously happy.” He popped the last bit of his biscuit into his mouth and stood. “I must be going. I have a meeting with my bailiff.”
She pushed herself up at the same time he did. “What have you to meet with Mr. Murphy about?”
Ben ran a hand across the back of his neck. “One of the sea walls is crumbling in the east pasture. I’ve had to remove the sheep until we get it fixed. The last thing I need is for one blasted sheep to go over the cliff and a half a dozen to follow after it.”
Mia reached up and gently ran her fingers over the lines between his eyes. She had been doing it since she was a child of only two or three. And while he knew that as a lady of one and twenty, it was wholly inappropriate, he could not stop her from doing it.
He closed his eyes, enjoying her touch. Such actions would end once she married. Blast it all.
“Poor Ben. I dislike seeing you so worried.”
He grudgingly opened his eyes at the sound of her voice. “I’m not overly worried. It’s just something that needs my attention.”
She gave him her perfect pout. “If you do not stop, these creases will permanently mar your face. And you are much too handsome to look like a wrinkled old man.”
He gave her a smug smile and leaned into her. “You think me handsome, Mia? Please, tell me more.”
She shrugged, but her lips tugged upward. “Compared to some.” She bit down, trying unsuccessfully to stop her grin. “You are much more handsome than Mr. Cogsgrove.”
Ben’s mouth dropped open. “The butcher? The man is near sixty. He wears a patch and is missing two fingers.”
Mia could not stop her laughter any longer. “Yes, but because his temperament is so foul, it puts you at least a rod ahead of him in desirability.”
Ben’s eyes widened, and his mouth dropped open. He reached for her, but she slipped out of his grasp. “You can be quite cruel, my lady. And after all the hours of entertainment I’ve provided you throughout our childhood.” He tsked and turned away from her. “Seeing as you have nothing nice to say, I shall take my leave.”
She darted around the low table, making Ben stop abruptly when she moved in front of him. She looked at the ground, her face the picture of contrition. “I’m sorry if I caused you any hurt. Please do not stay away for long.” Her tone was sincere, but he knew if her eyes were within view, there would be a mischievous twinkle in them. Although he did not doubt she wished for him to return.
“If your cutting remarks have not driven me away yet, Mia, I cannot imagine they will now. Did you forget I’ve already accepted your father’s invitation for dinner? You’ll see my handsome face again tonight.” He winked at her.
She smiled widely, her head tilting slightly to the side.
He loved it when she smiled—unguarded and genuine. It made him warm, like he was coming home.
“Then I’ll see you tonight, Ben.”
He dipped his head to her. “Until six then, Lady Amelia.” Then he strode from the room, his face muscles aching.
He moved down the corridor toward Lord Minton’s book room, pausing and rapping twice on the solid wood door.
“Come.” Lord Minton called.
Ben pushed the door open and stuck his head in. “I am sorry to disturb you, Minton.”
The older man waved Ben in. “Nonsense. Come in, my boy.”
Ben smiled fondly. Lord Minton had called him my boy for as long as Ben could remember.
Minton motioned to a chair.
Ben sat down, crossing his legs at the ankles.
“I wanted to thank you for coming up with this plan, Berwick. It is a capital idea. Just what Amelia needs.” Minton sat back. “You have been holding out on me. All this time you’ve had this marvelous plan up your sleeve.”
Ben shrugged his brows. “I think Lady Amelia would disagree with you, my lord. She seems most unhappy about it.”
Minton waved the concern away. “Nonsense. She will grow accustomed to the notion, and it will be an enormous success.” He rubbed his hands together. “Perhaps we will have a wedding before the Season even begins.”
Ben held up his hands. “Now, wait a moment, Minton. You cannot be so obvious. You know if Lady Amelia catches on about your plan”— he was having second thoughts about owning a part of it— “she will dig in her heels and deliberately push away anyone we introduce to her.”
Minton nodded. “Yes, yes. I am perfectly aware of Amelia’s propensities.” He grunted. “But you are not the one being coddled day and night. And it is only worsening with each day, Berwick. By the end of the year, I fear she shall not allow me out of my dressing gown or even my bed.”
Ben grinned at the man’s fervor. “Yes. I can see your concern.” He licked his lips. “But you know as well as I, there are few gentlemen with a strong enough constitution to handle our Lady Amelia.”
The light in Minton’s eyes dimmed. “Yes. I have considered that.” He glanced down at his list and then back at Ben. “Have you any suggestions?”
Ben steepled his fingers in front of his chin. “A few, my lord.”
“Well, let us have them. Do not keep them to yourself.”
Ben chuckled. He loved it here at Hedlund Hall. Never had he felt unwelcomed, and rarely did he leave without a smile on his face. Indeed, he loved it almost as much as his beloved Tweed Castle.
“I believe Mr. Charles Bancroft would be an excellent addition to the party.” He twitched his lips to the side. “The man has over ten thousand a year. While he does not hold a title, his income more than makes up for it.”
Minton scribbled. “Yes, but is he up for the challenge of Amelia?”
Ben slowly nodded his head. “I believe so. He is not a mean-spirited man, but she will not chase him away, either.”
“Good, good. Capital.” Minton nodded. “You said there were several?”
Ben pulled air in through his nose and paused, his stomach twisting uncomfortably. Why was he suddenly feeling guilty about this? Was he not helping Mia and Minton? Yet, even as he justified it, he knew that if she found out what they were doing, she would be angry—that word sounded far too mild for what Mia would be if she found out.
He cringed. But if she were not so stubborn, they would not have to resort to such measures.
The thought did little to assuage his conscience.
“Well? What other names have you to add?” Minton looked expectantly at Ben.
He cleared his throat. If he did not offer some acceptable gentleman, Minton would invite Heaven only knew who else. He need not feel so guilty.
“Lord Montcort, His Grace, the Duke of Larmont, and Lord Michael Ponsonby.” He cleared his throat. “And while they will not be an option for Mia, Lords Stoke and Heatherton, along with their wives, will help to round out the party.”
He sucked in a breath. He’d done it. He had contributed to the list. And they were proper gentlemen with large fortunes and a solid place in society. Minton would be happy to have Mia align herself with any one of them. If any of them were inclined toward marriage. Which they weren’t. That was his part in helping Mia.
But there was always a possibility they would change their minds, was there not? His stomach twisted tighter, the knot coming up into his throat. He gave his head a shake. He must ask Mrs. Partridge to cook the eggs more thoroughly from now on. His stomach did not agree with her way of cooking them of late.
“Yes, they are all quite eligible and will do nicely.” Heaven help him if Mia ever discovered his hand in it.