Chapter Twenty
Lord Richard Has Some Explaining to Do
Richard entered White’s and handed his gloves to the attendant, who greeted him deferentially. The parlors were lightly populated, and he recognized most of the gentlemen. It was still early, just after midnight, and the gaming room was packed.
He spotted Denys engaged at a card table with four others.
His friend’s dark hair fell over his forehead as he surveyed the board, deep in concentration.
Denys rarely looked disheveled, but his muslin cravat was loosened about his neck and his dark coat was unbuttoned.
He must have come straight from the musicale.
A guttering candelabra on the card table and the dimming wall scones indicated the game had been running for some time.
Judging from the meager pile of chips at his friend’s elbow, luck was not on his side.
Richard knew Denys to be a good card player, steady and careful.
But sometimes, it took bravado to win the day.
That was the case tonight at Lady Drummond-Burrell’s party. Any hesitation on his part would have spelled disaster. He was reasonably sure that Clementine and Martha Sefton knew exactly what had transpired in the conservatory, but neither would dare dispute his explanation.
Denys caught his eye from across the room and he raised his glass, then signaled the dealer for another card. Richard was not in the mood for gaming and decided to sit for a while.
He greeted friends perfunctorily on the way to the front parlor. It was empty, save for two unknown men deep in conversation by the fireplace. He located an overstuffed chair by the club’s legendary bay window.
Just last month—admittedly in his cups—Richard had bet one hundred pounds that the next young woman of marriageable age who passed would wear plumes in her hat. No less than twenty men had taken the wager, and he won a tidy sum.
He sank into the plush cushions and ordered a whiskey and water from the hovering waiter.
It had been a full day. He spent the morning balancing the finances at Seldon and meeting with his overseer and tenants, then drove to Bath to pick up Octavia, who chattered nonstop, and took her home before attending the musicale.
His whirlwind betrothal was the result of sheer carelessness.
Or was it? Surely, he knew on some level that his reckless behavior with Fiona would have consequences.
Richard was accustomed to being pursued by women.
Some just wanted sex; others hoped a casual dalliance might lead to marriage; but most wanted a ring.
He indulged his appetites carefully, avoiding the feverish addictions that had driven several of his acquaintances to ruin.
Until now, it hadn’t been difficult—how had Fiona slipped past his defenses?
Marriage was inevitable. No man in his social position could ignore the importance of a wife, and as the only son, it was essential to present an heir.
He contemplated the amber liquor in his glass.
A marriage of convenience without any emotional entanglements would suit him better, but fate had decreed otherwise.
He might as well give in to his desires.
Downing the rest of the whiskey, he set the glass aside. Easter was calling it close, but he had the funds to make it happen.
Denys settled into the chair across from him with a half-empty glass of red wine and rested his polished boots on an overstuffed hassock.
“Well? Are you going to tell me what your extraordinary announcement is really about?”
Richard raised an eyebrow. “Just what it appears. I am to be married.”
“You intended to wed Fiona without any prior word to me? Or to anyone else? You cannot deny that your mother and sister were completely surprised.”
“Do you think so? I suspect my sudden decision to disclose our betrothal at a musicale might account for that.”
“Do not talk fustian to me, Richard. What happened to provoke such an impromptu engagement? I’ll wager that you’re no more in love with Fiona now than you were before leaving for Seldon.”
“Do you purport to know my deepest sentiments? I was not aware I had confided them.”
“Fine, then,” Denys snapped. “If you cannot tell me the truth, at least assure me that Fiona is a willing participant in your scheme. I hate to see you ride roughshod over the girl.”
“Are you saying she doesn’t make an advantageous match?”
“Blister it, Richard, don’t take offense. I’m simply fond of the girl, and I’d like to see her happily married, not just some sexual whim of yours.”
“Then stand up for me at the wedding. You are my closest friend, although I can’t at this moment imagine why.”
Denys sighed. “I hope you know what you are doing.”
“Always.”
“How soon do you intend the ceremony?”
“I’m contemplating Easter Sunday at St. James’s.”
“Good God,” Denys choked. “If you can make that happen, you must be more powerful than I imagined.”
“I’ve heard the church needs a new rectory.”
“That would do it.” He looked at Richard speculatively. “Why the huge hurry? Isn’t Fiona falling in with your plans? I think you’re afraid she’ll run, and you’re in love with her.”
“Now, you’re being ridiculous. I am going home. Did you lose a lot tonight?”
He knew better than to offer a loan. Denys was adamant about refusing even the smallest amount.
“Enough.” He rose with a huge yawn. “I suppose I’ll follow your example and go home since you are determined to keep the mystery of your engagement. Is there room in your curricle to drop me off at Berkeley Street?”
“Provided you do not vex me with more questions.”
Denys bowed with exaggerated deference. “Yes, my lord. Of course, Your Most Supreme Earlship—”
He cuffed him lightly on the top of his dark head. “Idiot.”
The next morning, Richard slept until John pulled back the heavy velvet curtains surrounding his bed. He sat up, a vague pain hovering behind his eyes.
“Damn me,” he muttered, massaging his temples.
The valet looked over in concern. “Shall I have Miss Valentina mix a potion, Your Lordship?”
He tossed the linen covers aside and padded over to the set of windows in the east, drawing aside the patterned jacquard drapes.
He resolutely faced the outpouring of light through the thick panes, stretching his shoulders and neck.
John picked up the dressing gown Richard had discarded before tumbling into bed.
“No, it’s not a full-blown headache yet. Send for some Assam tea with milk and sugar. I have an appointment this morning, then I’ll pay a visit to Jackson’s. Some fresh air and a bit of exertion might set things right.”
“Very good, my lord.” John held out the jacquard silk robe, and Richard slipped it on, tying the tasseled belt tightly.
“And might I say, my lord, the entire household joins me in offering our felicitations?”
“Has word spread so quickly? My mother, no doubt.”
“Inadvertently, my lord. Lady Amelia discussed it with Clara early this morning as she dressed, and Betty learned from Miss Valentina, and—”
“Yes, yes, I’m well aware of how rapidly news travels at Merrick House. Have Mother or my sister come downstairs yet?”
“They are breakfasting now. Lady Amelia wished to be informed as soon as you were awake.”
“Of course, she did.” There was sure to be a gauntlet of questions. “Is Miss Rafferty with them?”
“I believe I heard Betty say Miss Fiona isn’t feeling well, sir, and remains in her chamber.”
“Leaving me to face the inquisition,” Richard murmured.
“I beg your pardon, my lord?”
“Nothing, John. Could you please inform Hansen that Jerome is to have the curricle ready with my grays at ten thirty?”
“And Lady Amelia, sir?”
“You may also have Hansen relay that I will be down to her within the hour.”
The valet coughed discreetly.
“Well, John? What is it?”
“I really must suggest more time, my lord. I fear an hour may not suffice to properly dress and shave you this morning.”
“That bad, then?” He ran a hand along his shadowed jawline. “I have an hour to spare and complete confidence in your ability to work a miracle.”
“Very good, sir. The dark-blue Melton coat perhaps? And dove-gray trousers, since you won’t be riding?”
“Your taste is impeccable as always, John. Will you pack a bag for Jackson’s?”
“Of course. If you will excuse me, my lord, I shall go speak to Hansen and call for your tea.”
When he left, Richard fell into the armchair next to the bed, massaging his stiff neck. What the devil was he going to tell his mother?
Precisely fifty-five minutes later, he entered the sun-filled morning room to find Lady Amelia engrossed in a letter. She looked up expectantly as he dropped a kiss on her forehead.
“Richard, how handsome you look this morning. But a trifle pale…it seems like the excitement of last night has taken a toll on everyone. Have you a headache?”
“Just a bit of tension. I intend to leave for the boxing saloon shortly. Physical activity sometimes chases it away.”
“Sit.” She patted the empty side of the cream-and-blue striped settee. “And tell me what has brought about this sudden announcement. I’m rather disappointed you didn’t inform me of the connection between you and Fiona. Honestly, I thought just the opposite, since you two are always at odds.”
“Mother, I’m afraid you will need to trust me without much explanation.
I won’t reveal the details, but Miss Rafferty and I were discovered in a rather awkward situation that would lead to conjecture at the least and scandal at the worst. I have decided this is the best way to handle things, and Fiona has agreed. ”
“Indeed? What have you done? I’ve never known you to be indiscreet, Richard. And marriage is the only solution? I find that difficult to imagine.” She frowned. “Fiona did not come downstairs this morning. You haven’t coerced her into something, have you?”
“Why does everyone believe I possess some Machiavellian desire to bend her to my will? Fiona had a turbulent evening, with the anxiety of her performance and then the announcement of our betrothal. It was close to midnight when I brought her home. I don’t wonder she avoids company this morning.”
“I won’t accuse you of being domineering, exactly, but you do like to take control. I only want your happiness, Richard. But, my dear, to marry without love…”
“With love, without love, what is the difference? You loved my father, despite his faults. Yet you cannot tell me you were happy in your marriage, Mother. Sooner or later, I must take a wife, and if circumstances have led me to Fiona, it’s not a bad choice.
She is attractive, intelligent, talented.
I believe we shall do quite well together. ”
“Such detachment, Richard.” She patted his hand with a sigh. “I will say there are always surprises in a marriage, no matter how well one plans.”
He decided to change the subject. “Where is Valentina?”
“She took Octavia to the lending library. I will tell her the good news when they return. We shall have many callers later, I expect, eager to congratulate you and Fiona.”
“Put them off, Mother. There are plans to be made. I have decided on an Easter wedding at St. James’s.”
“This Easter?” Lady Amelia’s eyes were wide. “How is that possible? Scarcely a month away, and the wedding of the Season…”
“There is no need for panic. I’ll make the arrangements, but I rely on your help to execute the event. Fiona and Valentina can assist, and you may hire all the extra help you need.”
She sank back among the cushions, a bit pale under her delicate rouge. “But the notices—invitations, flowers, parties—a bridal dress and trousseau—how can it all be done in time?”
“I have sent word to Falworth to handle all the legal matters, including the banns. They will be published in this evening’s paper.
He is also interviewing private secretaries today.
My new assistant will take on any aspects of the wedding you deem necessary.
Thereafter, he’ll shoulder some of my more tedious responsibilities. ”
She recovered quickly. After all, it would be the event of the year, no matter how quickly arranged. “When can I fit in a betrothal ball? We absolutely must have one.”
He shrugged. “If you wish. Compile a guest list for the wedding ceremony—I wish to keep that on the smaller side—but invite as many people to the ball as you would like. The new secretary will see to everything you need.”
“Richard, a ball of that size will take weeks to plan.”
“Saturday a week before the wedding should do for the date, I think.”
“Oh, my…that is…I…” Lady Amelia was at a loss for words.
He leaned over to kiss her soft cheek. “I have infinite faith in you, Mother.”
“That’s all well and good,” she said tartly, “but I can do nothing without a wedding date.”
“After my appointment at Jackson’s, I plan on proceeding directly to St. James’s Church and will confirm the date tonight.”
His mother threw her hands up in the air. “You are an inescapable force of nature, Richard. I should know by now that you always get what you want.”
He bowed. “If you say so, Mother. You have carte blanche at Madame Brigitte’s regarding Fiona’s trousseau, and I shall make an account at Rundell and Bridge.”
“Really, Richard,” she reproved. “You should choose the jewels yourself.”
He laughed. “If I do, I’ll be lucky if she doesn’t throw them back in a temper. It will take a period of adjustment for Fiona to accept my wealth as her due.”
“She is very proud. You are including her in these details, are you not?”
“You and she and Valentina may plan to your heart’s content. I have simply chosen the venue and the date. I must go, Mother. The carriage is waiting. We shall speak again at dinner.”
With a nod, he strode out of the room.