Chapter 4 #2
“Am I your second choice as rescuer, Miss Bell?” Buxton sounded put out.
“Your ego will survive. And I didn’t know you would be here.”
Buxton raised a brow.
“Wait, how do you know about Todson’s intentions?”
“Oh, Lavinia.” He nodded back in the other girl’s directions. “She’s an unending source of information. I would guess most of the house party is aware of Todson’s intent towards you.”
Muriel halted, struggling to keep the composed look of adoration on her features. “If you knew as much,” she said under her breath, “why didn’t you…swoop in and save me?”
“I don’t swoop, Miss Bell. Now, tell me of your scheme.”
He was really quite infuriating. Entirely arrogant.
“I need you to pretend great interest in me for the duration of the house party.” Her brows drew together.
“You do not have to profess great love or…even mention a more permanent relationship. No talk of a betrothal. I merely need you to pretend, for a time, that you are taken with me. Enough to dissuade Todson and convince my parents you are a viable candidate to be my husband. This will also put off the young ladies chasing you about because they will assume your affections are secured. You can enjoy the party in peace.”
“Entirely brazen. So, I am to pretend affection for you. Allow you to dangle off my arm and such?”
“Yes.” Muriel nodded. “I would ask you to do nothing improper.”
“That’s a pity.”
“Good grief, Buxton.” Muriel gritted her teeth. “You proclaimed, rather dramatically, I might add, that you are constantly being hunted like some poor fox during a hunt. Don’t you want enjoy Savorton’s hospitality without a hoard of young ladies popping out at you?”
“You’ve popped out at me.” He gave her a roguish look. “I’m dramatic?”
“Entirely. Please, Buxton. We don’t know each other, but…
I feel as if we are kindred spirits of a sort, both avoiding marriage for our own reasons.
And I—may have led Lord and Lady Allred to believe that I have another suitor, one who has secured my affections.
The groundwork has been laid. Just play your part.
Todson wants to leave this house party with a betrothal. I would prefer it not be to me.”
“Hmm. And after?”
“I’ll ensure that your reputation isn’t damaged in any way.
I’m considered…eccentric. No one will blame you for a change of heart.
I’ll keep up the pretense until I return to London, at which point I will wait for you to call, and when you don’t, I’ll…
” Muriel paused, chewing her lip. “Burst into a fit of ears. Declare you’ve sent me a note, that you’ve decided our brief attachment is at an end. I’ll be heartbroken, of course.”
“Of course.”
“Unable to contemplate another gentleman. I’ll be so devastated, I won’t even go out the remainder of the Season.
And in return.” She lifted her chin to him.
“I will be your shield at this house party. Keep your other admirers away,” she whispered.
“I’ll float about and…drop thinly veiled hints of a romantic nature, enough so that they believe we could possibly be courting. ”
Buxton nodded slowly, regarding her with an odd look. “A fine plan, Miss Bell. So I need only pretend?”
“Yes. I assure you that I’ve no ulterior motive.
I don’t wish to wed you or anyone else. I promise.
I only want to study my art. Go to Florence.
Avoid becoming Lady Todson. He’s rather awful.
Converse with him for a quarter hour and you’ll see.
” Muriel took a deep breath. “Please, Buxton. I really don’t want to wed him. Please.”
They were mere steps away from her parents and Todson.
“Very well, I agree. But I have two conditions.”
“Anything.” Muriel felt a surge of hope.
“First, you must paint a portrait of me during the house party. Doing so will add to the ruse and give us an excuse to be in each other’s company. You must use appropriate vegetables, fruit or whatever else, but no fishhooks. You will incorporate…radishes in some manner.”
“Radishes?”
“My favorite.”
“It would be my honor.” And her pleasure to paint Buxton, though she still thought of him as an oak tree in autumn. Muriel had promised her parents that she wouldn’t paint during the house party, but Buxton’s request could hardly be refused. “What is the second condition?”
“A kiss.”
Muriel blinked at him. “I beg your pardon?”
“A kiss, Miss Bell.” Buxton leaned closer, all that cedar scented warmth swirling about her until she could feel it in her belly.
“One at the time of my choosing. No peck on the cheek. Or on your paint-stained knuckles. But on the mouth.” The green of his eyes lingered briefly on her lips. “That is my price. Do you agree?”
“But…why?” She did not believe he could possibly find her attractive, not with the likes of Lady Lavinia in the drawing room.
Even though there had been that brief…spark between them at the coaching inn, one Muriel had immediately discarded.
Buxton was something of a rogue. Far too handsome for his own good.
It would be no hardship to agree to give him a kiss even if it was only his arrogance that demanded it. “For the sake of your ego, I assume.”
Another roll of those broad shoulders. “What else could it be, Miss Bell? Are we agreed?”
Muriel nodded.
“Splendid. Now, introduce me to Lord and Lady Allred.”
Muriel’s heart raced inside her chest as they closed the distance to her parents.
She kept blissful adoration on her features.
Clutched Buxton’s arm that much tighter.
This was a brazen gambit, asking a man she’d only just met to pretend to be her…
paramour. This could well be a disastrous undertaking.
Worth it to be rid of Todson.
Her unwanted suitor took one look, eyes drifting to Muriel’s fingers on Buxton’s coat, and bowed so low, she thought Todson was examining the toes of his shoes. Father stopped speaking mid-sentence and stared at Muriel in shock, bowing.
Nora made an audible gasp before sinking into a curtsey.
A terrible, uncertain feeling came over Muriel.
I’m Buxton.
That was how the man beside her had introduced himself. Not, Lord Buxton or, I’m the Earl of Buxton. And the arrogance. His assumption Muriel would recognize his name.
Oh. Dear.
“Your Grace,” Todson murmured as he straightened. “What an unexpected pleasure to see you.”
“Isn’t it?” Buxton said. “Lord Todson. Wonderful to see you as well.”
Muriel swayed, knees wobbling. Duke. He’s a duke.
“Your Grace,” Father said. “Savorton mentioned you might be attending, but I didn’t realize—that is to say, I am Lord Allred.”
“Lord Allred,” Buxton—His Grace—said smoothly. “I believe we were introduced at the opera by Lord Wroxley.”
Father swallowed. “Indeed, Your Grace. My wife, Lady Allred.”
“I didn’t realize”—Nora’s eyes darted between Muriel and Buxton—“that you were…acquainted with our...daughter.” She blushed furiously as Buxton took her hand. “Your Grace.”
I have never fainted in my life, but I might do so now.
Well, that certainly explained the fawning. The gasping sighs from every unwed female within range of Buxton. The air of entitlement. Muriel had assumed it to be merely because of his looks.
I promised to paint him as a radish. And kiss him.
Buxton placed his palm over her fingers as if he could sense the panic of her thoughts.
“Savorton is a friend, but I confess, I hadn’t thought to attend his house party until Miss Bell mentioned she, too, would be here.
” He cast her an affectionate look. “After that, nothing could keep me away. Did you fail to inform your parents, Miss Bell?” He shrugged. “You do like surprises, don’t you.”
“I did mention you, Your Grace.” Muriel stared at Nora, daring her to say differently. “Do you not recall, Mother Nora? On the ride here?”
Nora’s mouth popped open in astonishment, unable to speak, which pleased Muriel to no end. When she was castigated later, as surely Muriel would be for losing a duke’s attention, she wanted to remember that her stepmother had been struck speechless.
“How did you make my daughter’s acquaintance, Your Grace?” Father said. “If I may ask.”
“Of course you may,” Buxton said smoothly. “Our meeting was recent. Over terrible meat pies.”
Muriel’s breath caught in her throat.
“In the park,” he finished.
“Meat pies,” Father said in disbelief. “Forgive me, Your Grace, but—”
Todson took a step back, his gaze still locked on Muriel’s hand resting on the duke’s arm.
“Unlikely, I admit.” Buxton laughed in his charming way.
“But I happen to enjoy a good meat pie. I often purchase one from the vendors near the park. I was enticed by the scent at one gentleman’s stall and stopped to examine his wares.
Miss Bell happened to just be a few feet away, also examining the meat pies.
I was taken with her immediately.” He bestowed a besotted look at Muriel.
“I offered to purchase her a meat pie. Entirely proper, I assure you. Her maid was mere steps away. But Miss Bell declined my offer.”
“I wasn’t hungry, Your Grace.” He was far better at this than she’d hoped. “You, on the other hand, were starving, as I recall.”
“Walking the park gives one an appetite. So does riding. Managing my estates. I’ve far too many, I think.” He laughed. “I’m always hungry.”
With one sentence, Buxton gently reminded Todson and her parents he was a duke. Not to be questioned. Even if it was only about meat pies.
“The pies, unfortunately, smelled much better than they tasted.”
“The face you made while taking a bite was most amusing, Your Grace.” Muriel babbled, warming to Buxton’s ridiculous tale. It wasn’t entirely untrue. They had met over meat pies. “I’m afraid I didn’t realize at first who His Grace happened to be.”
“Debrett’s. I told you to study Debrett’s,” Nora whispered under her breath.