Two Beaux and a Promise Collection Read online

  Jacob slipped away before Charles could respond, but this explained why he hadn’t just spoken with Sir Waldo, which would have settled the matter. If Jacob thought the betrothal should end, he would expect Charles to manage it cleanly. After all, he’d survived his own jilting virtually unscathed. He knew how it was done.

  But he’d not done it alone. The Beaux had rallied around, shielding him from the most vicious gossip, showing their support, deflecting criticism… And Emily’s immediate marriage to Jacob had blunted much of the talk. They were so obviously in love.

  He doubted that he could arrange a similar disposition for Merrimont.

  Shaking free of the memories, he returned to the ballroom to seek out Miss Knolton.

  — 3 —

  Edith relaxed when Diana returned barely a minute after Hawthorne had headed for the terrace. There was no sign of Jessup.

  Hawthorne’s warning should keep Jessup in line, but eliminating that threat didn’t solve Edith’s problems. Even the width of a candlelit ballroom couldn’t hide the fury simmering in Diana’s eyes. It was clear Hawthorne had put her back up. Pride would make the girl prove that she could do as she pleased.

  It didn’t take long. Within a quarter hour Diana was laughing with Mr. Tomling, her hand on his arm as she leaned far too close and whispered in his ear. Tomling flushed.

  Edith started to join them, but she’d covered barely half the distance when someone whirled her into a waltz without warning.

  “My dance, I believe.” Charles’s green eyes laughed down at her.

  She ignored the sudden warmth. “My lord! This is most improper. I’m a chaperon.”

  “This is an informal evening at a country house party. You can do anything you like, Miss Knolton. Is Russell behaving himself?”

  “I— Of course, he is. You threatened him with the Beaux.”

  He raised his brows. “You mean he actually understood the threat?”

  “Everyone understands that threat.” She erased her scowl lest people notice.

  “How unfortunate. I’d hoped for another encounter. You aren’t his only victim. He is no gentleman.”

  “I know, but—”

  “He will benefit from an extended trip abroad. I’ll see to it.”

  “But—” She stopped, confused and more than a little dizzy as he spun her into a complicated turn. The dizziness had to come from the unaccustomed motion. Or maybe from surprise – his actions belied his reputation. It had nothing to do with laughing green eyes or the way his hand burned into her waist. Or so she insisted.

  He grinned, twirling her faster. “I hear your charge is causing trouble.”

  “No. I mean, I never—” She stopped, not sure what she was trying to say. Why did she always sound like a ninny around him?

  But Diana was giving her trouble, and it was getting worse. Gathering her wits, she peered around Charles’s shoulder to see Diana dancing far too close to Tomling. If something wasn’t done – and soon – they would all be in trouble.

  For the moment, people smiled indulgently, attributing Diana’s behavior to high spirits as she approached her wedding. But that wouldn’t last. Already Giles was glaring. Since gentlemen could not honorably terminate betrothals, he must see his future going up in flames.

  Swallowing her pride, Edith sighed. “Miss Russell is an arrogant, spoiled peagoose. I fear she will never make it to the altar if she keeps this up.”

  “Is that what she wants?” He twirled her onto the terrace.

  Edith knew she should object, but they could hardly discuss Diana in a crowd. Hawthorne had insisted that Charles could help. The alternative was admitting her failure to Sir Waldo.

  The moment they were out of sight, she stepped out of his arms so she could think. The darkness helped, for it kept her from seeing the green, green eyes that haunted her dreams far too often. “I suspect she wants Mr. Merrimont’s attention – according to Miss Russell, he has all but ignored her since their betrothal.”

  “He has a job.”

  “I know that. I’ve explained that. I’ve made sure that she knows her duties as his wife – duties beyond paying calls and hosting at-homes for society ladies. He will have to entertain often, especially if he stands for Commons.”

  His face twisted into surprise. “Did he actually share that ambition with her? Few gentlemen know of it.”

  “Of course not, but I was hired to prepare her for the future. That means finding out what skills she will need.”

  He shook his head slowly, as if in shock. “Then why is she balking?”

  Edith turned toward the yew tree overhanging the balustrade and brushed its delicate foliage. “Lord Hawthorne said I could trust you.” She glanced over her shoulder, waiting until he nodded. “Miss Russell has been the local diamond since the age of fifteen, so she is accustomed to men who fawn over her, accede to her every wish, and praise her at every turn. Her previous governess encouraged her.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t know the woman, so I don’t care to speculate. I’ve tried to explain that contrived adulation is the fashion and thus means little. Mr. Merrimont lacks the temperament to indulge in excessive flattery. Nor does he waste his time in idle flirtation.”

  Again she glanced back until he nodded.

  “Miss Russell equates flattery with love. She thinks his reticence means he doesn’t love her, which raises fears that her beauty is fading. That causes panic, which increases her determination to prove his love by forcing him to flatter her. I suspect tonight’s goal is to make him jealous.”

  Charles choked.

  “I agree, but she no longer listens to me. She is a devotee of romantic novels and expects love to transform the world into a magical place. So far, it hasn’t. We spent last month in town. When Giles refused to forego a Four-in-Hand Club outing so he could take her shopping, she snapped.”

  “She expected him to escort her around the shops instead of driving out to Salt Hill?” He sounded appalled. “Merrimont’s prowess as a whip is legendary. I’ve never seen such light hands on the ribbons – or such absolute control. He can trot through a gate with less than an inch of clearance. Hell, he could turn through a gate that tight – at speed. Driving is how he relaxes after tense negotiations.”

  “I am aware of that. I’ve explained it very clearly. But Miss Russell is spoiled – still very much a child in some ways. She needs constant reassurance.”

  “No wonder Merrimont is making no progress with Schechler.”

  It was her turn to raise her brows.

  “I was sent out here because he can’t keep his mind on his job,” he explained bluntly. “I expected to find him caught up in wedding preparations. Instead, he is so distracted that I’d barely greeted him before he treated me to an outburst on the insanity of females.” His glare made it clear that he shared that view, at least when it came to her.

  Edith ignored it. Diana’s future was more important than Charles’s opinion. She faced him. “I fear he is close to walking away. On the other hand, if he truly doesn’t care…”

  Charles paused, then shook his head. “I suspect he cares too much. There was something in his voice… Hawthorne and Hughes use that same tone when speaking of their wives.”

  “Then why doesn’t he tell her?”

  “Do you honestly suggest that he lay his heart on the floor for Miss Russell to trample?”

  “She wou—” Edith bit off the denial, for Diana undoubtedly would, if for no other reason than to prove she could. “You have a point,” she said instead, sighing deeply.

  “I have several points.” He ducked into the library to hold his hands over the fire. “This is not the weather for tête-à-têtes in the garden,” he explained when she joined him.

  “No. But you were saying—” She shivered now that the air was warmer. Or maybe it was the dismal room, which qualified as a library only because one shelf contained a dozen volumes of old sermons. None of the Russells were scholars.

&nbs
p; “Merrimont’s reticence is more than protection against pain. He is a diplomat. We are trained never to reveal our thoughts.”

  “That hasn’t stopped you.” She glared, recalling the names he’d called her after she’d slipped and knocked him into a suit of armor back in July. The clatter as he and the armor crashed to the marble floor had drawn a dozen spectators.

  “That’s different.”

  “Really?”

  “We are discussing Merrimont,” he snapped. “Most gentlemen are taught from birth that emotions are vulgar, thus indulging in them reveals inferior breeding. And love is the most vulgar of all, suited only to the lowest classes. Merrimont won’t acknowledge such a feeling and won’t admit he can’t handle Miss Russell. Pride won’t allow it.”

  “So it’s all right to be emotional around inferiors, but not your equals?” she asked, suddenly angry.

  “That’s not what I said.”

  “Really? Mr. Merrimont, younger son of a viscount, can’t tell Miss Russell, daughter of a baronet and his affianced bride, that he loves her. But you, who are a great deal higher, think it’s permissible to attack, revile, and otherwise disdain a lowly governess.”

  “That’s not true!” he snarled, slamming his fist on the mantel in a vivid show of temper. “I said most families eschew emotion. Mine doesn’t. We’re not quite respectable, if you need the truth, though we’ve enough power that all but the highest sticklers overlook our oddities. We don’t deride emotion. We even champion fidelity after marriage. But that is not the point.” He sucked in a calming breath. “Does Miss Russell want this marriage?”

  “Yes, but on her terms. I think she’s terrified that he doesn’t care and that she might face living with a man who ignores her. Somehow I must convince her that compromise is necessary – and trust. That will be easier if Mr. Merrimont makes even a small show of approval. Can you convince him to abandon pride long enough to admit he wants this match?”

  “I doubt it. If this has been building for some time, he will see any concession as a defeat. And while he is trained in the art of compromise, he never makes the first move.”

  “Damnation,” she muttered under her breath. “Fools, both of them, standing on pride when they ought to trust each other enough to be honest. Why did he offer for her anyway? Surely he could see what she is.”

  “Which supports my contention that he loves her. It’s the only reason he might abandon sense. But he won’t admit it even in his mind, and he won’t risk being hurt. Pain is never pleasant. A smart man learns to avoid it.”

  The pain in his voice halted her reply, for he’d been trampled rather badly himself not long ago. London had talked of little else for weeks after his fiancée jilted him. “Then we need another approach. What if he finds her in danger? The shock might break down his pride.”

  “No.” His tone was final.

  She stared. “Why?”

  “I once arranged that scenario to force two other proud fools to admit the truth. Despite precautions, one of them nearly died. I won’t risk it again.”

  “I see.”

  “I doubt it, but it doesn’t matter. I swore then that I would never again meddle in other people’s affairs. I’m already uneasy about involving myself in this. I won’t tempt fate.”

  “Very well. What do you suggest?”

  He paced to the window, stared over the grounds, then returned to the fire. “You said Miss Russell expects love to produce a magical transformation. How?”

  “She is fond of romantic poetry, and her favorite novels always end with the characters transformed by love. So the idea that marriage will saddle her with a host of responsibilities and surround her with serious-minded diplomats instead of fawning suitors does not sit well.”

  “She is mad.”

  “You asked what she expects.”

  “Didn’t she foresee this when she accepted him?”

  “I doubt it. She was too caught up in the Season. Reveling in her success left little time to think about how marriage would change her life.”

  “Hmm.” He clasped his hands behind him and resumed pacing. “Magical transformations… Does she believe in magic, then?”

  “How should I know? I don’t include magic in my lessons.” But her irritation faded when she met his eyes. “What do you have in mind?”

  “A magic amulet. Wearing it would force those around her to speak only the truth.”

  She snorted. “She won’t believe anyone but Mr. Merrimont, and she won’t accept anything short of capitulation to her demands.”

  “I wonder how true that is. Using an amulet might force her to see herself in a different light.”

  “How?”

  “Suppose I encourage Merrimont to repeat today’s outburst. Suppose Miss Russell overhears him.” He sharpened his gaze. “If she’s as selfishly arrogant as you imply, I doubt his words will contain much flattery. It will be up to you to control her.”

  “I’ll manage.”

  “Good girl.”

  His smile pooled heat in her womb. Ignoring it, she concentrated on business. “When?”

  “It will take a day or so to arrange,” he admitted. “Not the amulet. I can cobble something together easily enough. But I need time to prime Merrimont so he’ll talk, and you’ll need time to convince her that the amulet is truly magic. Start tonight. Mention that I know Granny Gibbs.”

  “The witch?”

  “She has that reputation, though I’ve seen nothing to warrant it. I know her as an excellent healer. She patched me up more than once when I was a boy.”

  “While you were visiting Hawthorne and Hughes, I suppose.” He hadn’t lived in the area himself.

  “Exactly. Tomorrow morning I’ll give Miss Russell an opportunity to ask me about it. I can produce the amulet the next day.”

  “All right. But don’t speak with her alone. If I’m wrong and she’s given up on this match, she may attach a replacement before jilting him – that’s one lesson she would have learned from your imbroglio last Season. Only your betrothed’s immediate marriage to Hawthorne mitigated the scandal. You are the greatest catch in residence just now. More eligible than Merrimont, if truth be told, and far more eligible than Jessup. If she’s looking, she’ll know that.”

  Shock flared in his eyes.

  Leaving him to brood, she returned to the ballroom. Diana was waltzing with Jessup, much too closely. So much for Hawthorne’s warning. Glaring in the earl’s direction, Edith settled in for a long evening.

  * * * *

  Following her habit, Edith entered Diana’s room as the girl was preparing for bed. She liked to discuss the day while its events were still fresh.

  “Did you enjoy the dancing?” she asked once the maid left.

  “Mostly.” Diana frowned. “But Giles is making me look a fool.”

  “How?”

  “He ignores me! People notice. He’s hateful!”

  “I saw nothing to criticize. He led you out for the first set and again for the fourth, then spent the rest of the evening entertaining your relatives. It would be ill-bred of him to hang on your arm.”

  “Ill-bred! We are betrothed! He didn’t even notice my new gown.”

  Edith sighed. “Men rarely notice appearance unless your attire is inappropriate. We’ve discussed this before.”

  “Mr. Jessup noticed. Mr. Tomling noticed.”

  “Because they have little to do beyond flirting with the ladies, so they need things they can praise. Giles has business to conclude before your wedding – business that is not going well from all accounts. He spent the afternoon in meetings with Baron Schechler and Lord Charles.”

  “At my house party? How dare they!”

  “The Regent expects an agreement this week,” she snapped crossly, then stifled her temper. “You know Giles has responsibilities. We speak of it every day. As long as he works for the Foreign Office, he will have little control over where or when he conducts business. And if you wish to leave on a wedding trip, you
will cease disturbing him. Let him finish his negotiations so he is free to go.” She wondered if the baron was taking advantage of Diana’s antics to wring concessions from a distracted Giles. Not that Charles would let him get away with it, but—

  “What business was Lord Hawthorne conducting when he decided to follow me about?” demanded Diana.

  “I wasn’t aware that he was,” lied Edith.

  “Though I suppose someone as beautiful as I must expect every man to watch her,” Diana continued with complete illogic.

  “Having seen the way the earl looks at his wife, I can guarantee that he has no interest in you, no matter how beautiful.”

  “Nonsense. Everyone loves me – except Giles. If you’d heard Mr. Tomling praise my eyes, you would understand.”

  “Diana!” Edith shook her head. “A man may enjoy looking at beauty. A young man may play at worshiping beauty. But a husband needs more than an ornament.” She sighed. “If you are dissatisfied with Giles, perhaps you should reconsider wedding him.”

  “He’s mine!” She flung herself across the bed. “He offered prettily enough, so why won’t he even compliment my new gown.”

  “Because you treat any notice as a skirmish won in a war only you are fighting. Yes, a war,” she repeated when Diana tried to object. “You have criticized him so relentlessly that he must conclude you are a shrew.”

  “I’m not!”

  “Think, Diana. What did Giles see tonight? It wasn’t your gown, lovely though it is. It wasn’t your face, either. What he saw were flirtations that went well beyond propriety, vulgar laughter, abominable manners… In short, he saw a girl whose behavior will embarrass him at best and possibly harm his position with the Foreign Office. Slipping outside to kiss Mr. Jessup was not well done.”

  “How did you—” The words were out before Diana remembered that a denial might serve her better.

  “I heard about it, which means that others might also hear about it. Especially Giles. Do you really believe that Jessup will remain quiet? He is working hard to discommode Giles, so he will certainly trumpet his triumph. And if Lord Hawthorne caught you together, Giles can hardly doubt Jessup’s word. Jessup may have arranged for Hawthorne’s presence himself.”