Chapter Seven
Wolcott House
Hanover Square
Bloody bloody hell.
Not only did William have a pounding megrim due to copious drinking the night before, but he was still in a wretched mood upon waking this morning. Well, to be fair, it was near noon because of the hangover.
Didn’t matter. Everyone could just fuck off for all he cared.
By the time he’d had a bath, Cooper had come in to help him with dressing. William’s mood hadn’t improved much, but the ache in his head had calmed slightly. The two cups of strong coffee might have been the cause, too.
Hot anger still percolated deep in his chest. Of course he didn’t want to wed, and he certainly didn’t want Charlotte as a wife, yet he was being forced into having both.
“Why the devil are you so crotchety, Your Lordship? The air fairly crackles with your ire,” the valet said as he fitted William with a waistcoat of sky-blue satin embroidered with green ivy vines.
“I have been forced into an engagement.”
Shock crossed the valet’s face. “What?”
In succinct sentences, William explained what happened yesterday at the book auction then at Hyde Park, and who had witnessed the scandal of being dumped out of the shrubberies in various degrees of undress.
“Well, I did instruct you to find a new scandal.” Cooper held up a jacket of sapphire superfine. “How many times have I told you that eventually your sins would catch up to you?”
“More than I can remember, but that is beside the point.” He glowered at the valet. “Now I am trapped, doomed to take up the reins of a life I do not want.”
“Yet you knew it would have to occur at some point.”
He shoved his arms into the jacket. “Thank you. That makes this whole thing so much better.” So much sarcasm dripped from the words he was surprised it didn’t make a mess on the Oriental-style carpet on that part of the floor.
Before the valet could respond, a soft knocking rang on the door.
“Come!” How much worse could the day get?
When the door opened and the butler came slightly into the dressing room, William bit back a curse. “I apologize for interrupting you.”
He frowned at the man of indeterminate age. The butler could be anywhere between thirty-five and fifty-five, for he never aged. In fact, he’d looked the same since William had taken the title and had hired him ten years before. “Think nothing of it, Layton. What do you need?”
The other man cleared his throat. He scratched at his head of thick dark hair with a gloved finger. “Uh, a Miss Primrose has arrived. She wishes to speak with you. However, she is unaccompanied.”
As if that branded a woman scandalous. Regardless, his pulse kicked up a notch despite his annoyance. Clearly, she had no patience. No doubt she was here to argue with him, tell him how disappointed she was in him, or something else along those lines.
After he blew out a breath, William rubbed a hand along the side of his face. “She is my fiancée. Please show her into the drawing room. I do need to speak with her and will be down directly.”
His usually unflappable butler gawked at him. “I beg your pardon, Your Lordship, but did you say you are engaged to her?”
“I did.”
Layton sputtered. “To be married.”
“I believe that is the natural order of things following an engagement.” William narrowed his gaze then turned his attention finishing his toilette, while Cooper badly stifled his laughter as if this was the biggest joke in the world.
Finally, the butler nodded. “Very well. I’ll see that she’s comfortable and offer her tea.” He cleared his throat. “Have you told the staff this joyous news yet?”
“I have not.” He jabbed a stick pin into the folds of his cravat.
There was some sort of perverse pleasure in seeing the small ruby glinting from the pristine white fabric, almost as if it was a drop of his blood, since he’d been stabbed through the heart with this latest run of bad luck.
“Why don’t you make that your next priority? That way, I don’t have to do it.”
“Of course, Your Lordship.” With a bit of a grin, Layton departed.
A groan escaped William’s throat as he met the valet’s gaze. “What the hell am I supposed to do?”
Cooper snickered, but he shrugged. “Marry her. At least the work of finding and courting a woman has been done for you. If you landed in scandal with Miss Primrose and that is what prompted this forced engagement, at least you thought her interesting enough to kiss or to do other wicked things to.” One of his eyebrows rose in question.
Or judgment. It was difficult to tell.
“Yes, but I can’t imagine—”
“Go.” The valet gave him a bit of a shove toward the door that led to the corridor.
“Your life can’t become any more complicated.
Like the rest of us, you must move forward regardless of what happened.
” He gave an encouraging nod. “And don’t forget, she’ll be by your side at your Midsummer Night ball.
You’ll need to do it proper this year instead of making it into the scandal it usually is. ”
“Well, damn. I’d forgotten about that.”
“No going back now, friend.” Cooper clapped a hand on William’s shoulder as he escorted him into the corridor. “Best not to muck it up further, hmm? You might manage to surprise yourself.”
“I rather doubt that,” he muttered beneath his breath shortly before he plunged down the stairs.
At the door to the drawing room, William stood peering inside.
Charlotte wasn’t sitting demurely on a chair or a sofa.
A tea tray rested on one of the low tables, apparently untouched.
Instead, she paced the length of the floor in front of the windows with her arms crossed under her breasts and a frown on her face.
Finally, when he could delay no longer, he stepped inside the room, softly closing the door behind him, for he didn’t want the servants to overhear what was sure to be an ugly conversation.
“Hullo, Miss Primrose. I thought I told you yesterday that I would call upon you today.” Why the hell was she so head strong?
“Where have you been?” Charlotte snapped as she whirled around to face him so suddenly that her skirts swirled about her ankles. “It is nearly three o’clock, and I waited for you to make an appearance, but you’re still here.” She shook her head. “We have things to discuss, Your Lordship!”
That shrill tone did nothing to ease his megrim. “Please lower your voice, for a multitude of reasons.”
She frowned once more. “You’re drunk.” It wasn’t a question.
“No, I was drunk. Now, I’m merely suffering the aftereffects with a hangover.”
“Don’t be more of an arse than you can help.” The woman popped her hands on her hips, which only served to call his attention to how luscious she was with plump curves a man could really hang onto while doing wicked things to her, all swathed in a light blue cotton dress. “Why are you avoiding me?”
“I’m not.” He could do nothing except close the distance between them. Perhaps then she’d stop shouting.
“You are. Delaying coming to call.” As she spoke, she drilled a forefinger into his chest. “Getting drunk last night to forget.”
“Can you blame me?” The situation was no less maddening today than it had been yesterday. “This engagement has changed the whole course of my life!”
“Mine as well, or did you think you are the only one who matters?”
“Of course not, but I don’t want to marry you.”
“Ah.” Confusion and disappointment clouded her eyes, and he suddenly regretted his harsh words.
“Because you can’t fathom a marriage with someone like me?
” Tears welled in her eyes to magnify the blue behind the lenses.
“Someone who wears spectacles? Who isn’t slender as a willow and therefore not fashionable in the ton? ”
Shit. Why did she have to cry? Feminine tears would be his undoing. “Think logically, Charlotte. You surely don’t think a union between us will last?” Shock went through his voice. “You are ten years my junior.”
“What difference does that make?” She sniffled.
“Why won’t you be honest? Perhaps this is the best chance the both of us have of perhaps being married, and almost happily.
” For the space of a few heartbeats, she paused as she searched his eyes for God knew what.
“We won’t know until we try, but I refuse to be wed to a man who won’t be loyal to me.
If we do indeed marry, I won’t tolerate you keeping a mistress. ”
“What the devil? You mean for us to go through with a wedding instead of pretending with an engagement we can then break off with a litany of excuses later?” He gawked at her. “It’s madness I tell you.” Why didn’t she understand that?
“I understand what you’re feeling, and that’s not to say that I’m not angry as well about how all of this came about.
” She laid a hand on his arm. “However, my father is quite stubborn. He won’t relent easily, and my mother is greedy about the title.
So there is no need for the off-putting attitude or the cursing. I, for one, don’t appreciate it.”
Who was she to dictate how he should act?
She had no claim to him, especially not when they knew each other not at all.
Outside of a few kisses and a brief touch of her breasts, they had nothing together.
We are strangers. “Oh?” He shook off her hold.
Perhaps that was the crux of his bad temper; he wanted her attention.
And that annoyed him, because up until now, no woman had maintained such fascination for him.
“You don’t appreciate it? Well, excuse me.
I’ve apparently upset your delicate sensibilities. ”
Not that he cared.
“What is wrong with you?” She pushed her spectacles back onto the bridge of her nose. “Why are you being so rude?”
Indeed, that was the question.
“Did you ever pause to consider that I don’t appreciate being forced into this engagement? That I might have rather chosen my bride-to-be, or at the very least, come to know you better if I’d wanted you in that position.”