Inheriting Trouble: A Sweet Regency Romance (The Bequest Series Book 1) Page 7

  Chapter Nine

  “Lord Crossley is here to see you, Miss.” The butler had come himself, not bothering to send a footman, as though he knew he would be dropping an explosive into the room.

  Vicky and Georgia exchanged shocked glances before turning to the countess.

  “Well don’t just sit there, girl, run to your room and make yourself presentable. It would not do to keep the earl waiting.”

  Georgia took a deep breath and held it while counting as quickly as possible to ten. She knew she couldn’t tell the countess what she really thought, but surely she wouldn’t be forced to accompany the dreadful man.

  “I would prefer to abstain from seeing him, my lady.”

  “I beg your pardon?” The countess’ tone made it clear she was not actually begging, nor did she seek pardon. “Has the earl compromised you?”

  Hot colour flooded Georgia’s cheeks. “Of course not.”

  “Then there is no reason to refuse to see him. I don’t care a jot about this nonsense of you being an heiress. You girls have admitted that you are as much at fault as he is. Do not be missish. Any one of my daughters would give her pin money to be the one the earl is calling on. But for some inexplicable reason, he has asked for you. Do not demonstrate such a lack of gratitude that you will ignore the honour he is showing you. You have dithered quite long enough. Now, you haven’t time to even go to your room and right yourself. You must go and see what the man wants.”

  Georgia was torn between fury and humiliation. Angry that the countess would spare no thought to her feelings and humiliated that she would say as much in front of her friends and the servants. She clenched her teeth and set her chin, refusing to be cowed by the aristocratic woman. Georgia knew her face was flaming, but she refused to hang her head. She followed the butler to the foyer where the earl stood gazing out a window. Georgia could only hope he hadn’t heard the exchange. The countess’ voice had not been raised, nor was it shrill, but sounds could carry quite easily in the large, high-ceilinged house.

  For some inexplicable reason, Georgia’s anger was merely fanned to greater heights by the fact that the earl was looking even more handsome than he had on previous occasions. The sun streaming in the window glinted off his chestnut hair, making it look soft and warm. She had never felt the impulse to touch another person’s hair before, but she had to struggle to still her hand from reaching toward the cretin’s head. When he turned to observe her, the sight of laughter dancing in his bright blue eyes made her anger flicker even higher. Is he laughing at my attire or did he hear the countess’ words? She wanted to kick him in the shins and flee back to her village, but the countess’ words rang in her ears. She could not show such ingratitude to the Shertons, nor could she abandon her dearest friend.

  Swallowing all her pent-up emotions, Georgia strove to be polite. “You asked for me, my lord?” was the best she could do, but it was far better than the “What in tarnation do you want?” that she wished to say.

  “Good afternoon, Miss Holton. I brought these for you.” She hadn’t even noticed that he was holding a small bouquet of rosebuds. They were the most delicate blush colour she had ever seen. There had been a steady stream of flowers being delivered to the house all day with four young women in residence, but in Georgia’s opinion, these were the most beautiful ones to have entered the building.

  Georgia didn’t want to, but she felt her anger abating at the sight of such an offering. She made an effort to bolster it. “Do you think my forgiveness can be bought with flowers, my lord?” Her voice wasn’t as cold as she would have wished, but at least the words were right.

  “Not at all, Miss Holton, but I do hope you will at least give me a chance to try to redeem myself.”

  She knew she shouldn’t trust him. His warm, reasonable tone was far too practiced, as though he were experienced with convincing young women not to hate him. Georgia sighed. She really didn’t have much choice. Not that she was about to trust him or forgive him, but she had to see what else he wanted. He could have sent the flowers with a note. The fact that he was here in person told her there was more to it.

  “What did you have in mind?” She almost smiled when she heard how guarded her voice sounded. At least she didn’t sound like a pushover.

  The earl bowed in front of her, much to her surprise. “I would beg the pleasure of your company for a ride in the Park. It is a remarkably fine afternoon.”

  Now, Georgia couldn’t help her smile. At least she would be able to run to her room and right her appearance. It was bad enough that the earl had seen her like this, but there was no way she would gad about Town without at least running a comb through her curls.

  “Very well, my lord, but I must ask you to wait for a few minutes while I get my bonnet.”

  “Of course. If it is fine with you, I will wait for you outside. I would rather not leave my horses standing much longer. They are a little high-strung, and the street is busy at this time of the day.”

  “That would probably be a good idea.” She didn’t bother offering further comment, merely turning on her heel and hurrying up the stairs as quietly and gracefully as she could, without a backward glance.

  ~~~

  Crispin grinned at the butler after he tore his eyes from her retreating form. He admired her spunk if nothing else. At least the girl wasn’t insipid. He knew he was in for an interesting afternoon. Realizing that standing in the foyer left him open to potentially having to speak to one or more of the Sherton sisters, the earl too turned on his heel and left the room.

  He was just getting his matched bays turned around when Miss Holton appeared at the top of the stairs. Crispin almost stared. He had never known a woman who did not delight in keeping a man waiting. Especially when she was angry with him. And the chit looked remarkably appealing as she stood and gazed at him.

  For the split of a second, he thought she looked hesitant and vulnerable but then dismissed the ridiculous thought. The girl could be a termagant when she wanted; he didn’t think she had an uncertain bone in her body. He thrust the momentary compassionate feelings aside and reminded himself that he was merely here to assuage his guilt for breaking his word. She was a female, a noblewoman at that, and therefore not to be trusted. She didn’t need his compassion and would probably scorn it if he were to offer it. He hardened his heart but tried to keep it from showing on his face.

  After handing her up into his curricle, the girl sat prim and silent beside him. He was becoming uncomfortable with the silence and was thus goaded into speech.

  “You are the promptest female I have ever met.” It was the first thing that came to his mind to say.

  “I beg your pardon?” She turned to him with startled eyes that suddenly filled with laughter. “I do apologize, my lord, I wasn’t paying any heed to what you were saying. Surely you realize this is the first time I have ever ridden in a curricle. I do hope I wasn’t doing anything so ill-bred as preening.”

  Crispin was astonished and couldn’t prevent a bark of laughter. “No, I can assure you there was no preening. In fact, I was quite convinced that you were holding yourself stiff and silent due to your fury with me.”

  The girl grinned but then primly replied. “Well, I am still quite angry with you, but I will revive it only after I have absorbed the marvel of this experience. I mean, a curricle, my lord. If only my brothers were here to see me. I am trying to absorb every sensation so that I shan’t forget anything when I write them about it. They will be pea green with envy, I can assure you.”

  Again, Crispin had to laugh. “Have you really never ridden in a curricle before?”

  “Never. I’ve barely even seen one before. Remember, I live in a village. The most common conveyance I see on a regular basis is a gig. I don’t think even Lord Sherton has a curricle. Last year they had a grand house party and a couple of the young gentlemen brought curricles, that is how I even know what they are. My brothers told me. They aren’t the most practical of vehicles, I will admit, but
it is quite lovely to ride in it. So, I cannot be angry with you just at the moment, you understand.”

  “So, you are the sort that holds a grudge.” He stated this fact, not asking.

  “Not usually, no, but your transgression was rather large, my lord. But, please, let us not ruin this lovely afternoon with such talk.”

  “Do you wish for silence?” Crispin had never met a woman who didn’t want to talk his ears off when she wasn’t giving him the silent treatment.

  “If you don’t mind, my lord. It’ll be all the better for me to know what to write to the boys.” Her apologetic tone made him want to laugh again, but he managed to keep a straight face.

  “Of course. I shall save my comments for later then.”

  They continued in silence until they were halfway down Rotten Row. Then the chit offered a heartfelt sigh and turned to him with a grin.

  “This is really quite lovely, my lord. I suppose it would be rather churlish to hold onto my anger toward you considering this stupendous experience you have afforded me. How did you know to bring a curricle? Or am I being decidedly provincial by remarking on it? I suppose most debutantes would expect it, or at least it would not be the very first time they’d ever ridden in one.” Her next sigh was not nearly so full of delight, in fact, it sounded almost despondent.

  “Actually, Miss Holton, now that I think on it, if I had been thinking clearly, I would not have brought my curricle.”

  Her gasp of dismay made him smile before continuing. “That is not to say that I wish to deprive you of the experience, but I just remembered that there have been a few ladies that are terrified of riding in a curricle. If I had thought the matter through carefully, I would have brought a safer vehicle.”

  “Well, then I am relieved that you were thoughtless,” she said with a laugh. “Why would they be afraid? It does not seem unsafe to me.”

  “Me neither, but there have been some accidents, especially if the driver is inexperienced.”

  “Well, there you have it. I would never expect anyone to describe you as inexperienced. You have probably been riding since before you could walk and driving nearly as long.”

  Her approving tone made the earl want to preen. She certainly knew how to talk to males. Her brothers must love her, he thought with wry humour.

  “Do your brothers ride and drive?”

  “Of course. But nothing so grand as your pair.”

  They continued in more companionable silence for a few moments while Crispin wondered uncomfortably how to raise the subject of her quest. He shook his head again at the duke’s whimsical wording.

  He took a deep breath and plunged into the topic. “I feel dreadful about breaking your confidence, Miss Holton, and wish to make amends. What can I do to make it up to you?”

  Crispin had to fight not to squirm when she turned her searching gaze onto him. She appeared amazed by his words and looked like she wanted to read all his secrets from his face.

  “You must be the oldest sibling,” he blurted out.

  She trilled a laugh. “Why do you say that?”

  “You have the air about you as though you can read my thoughts just from examining my face.”

  “Well, you are certainly more inscrutable than any of my brothers or sisters.” Her disgruntled tone made him smile before she continued. “You are right. I am the oldest. Which means all the responsibility rests upon me. Most of them are much younger than I am. My closest sibling, Gregory, ran off to war as soon as he turned fifteen. But the rest of us are at home. I’ve pretty much had to raise them since my mama died bringing Drew into the world seven years ago. So yes, I’ve learned there’s much to be read in someone’s face. Especially guilty boys.”

  She had tried to turn it back into a jest, but he could see the emotion shining in her eyes over the losses she had felt.

  “Seven years ago, you must have been little more than a child yourself,” he couldn’t help from prying.

  “I was almost thirteen. Many boys and girls have already gone into service by that age,” she dismissed his sympathy with a slight wave of her hand. “There was no other option, anyway, and this way I could pass on to them what Mama had already taught me.” She averted her face for a moment before turning back to him with a jaunty grin. “But never mind about that, my lord, you were saying something about wanting to make amends for your lapse in gentlemanly behaviour. This sounds intriguing. What do you think you could possibly do to make amends?”

  “I could help you with your purpose for being in London for the Season.” He stated this with as much firmness as he could muster, despite his own misgivings about this “quest” and the derision he could see in her gleaming eyes.

  “That might be a challenge for you, my lord, since you know nothing about my purpose for being in London.”

  “Are you not here seeking a husband like every other young lady?”

  “Well, I am not a lady, you will recall, my lord, I am merely a miss, for one thing. And no, I am not here seeking a mate. Even if I were, your little lapse made it impossible anyway, so it is just as well that I was merely expecting a diverting holiday with my dearest friend.”

  Crispin felt his stomach drop with what felt like dismay over her words. “What do you mean I made it impossible? How can it being known that you are an heiress make it impossible? You will have to be more discerning, of course, which I can help you with, in order to steer you away from the fortune hunters.”

  Her tinkling laughter did nothing to settle the queasy sensation.

  “Do not trouble yourself about it, my lord. I absolve you. You needn’t make any effort at redemption. I shall be perfectly fine. I am here to help Vicky have fun this Season. That is all. After two weeks, I will return home to the life that is waiting for me in our village with jolly memories to last me for years. And when Vicky writes to me, which she so often does, I will now have faces to put to the names and places she mentions. It is as simple as that. So, you did not disrupt anything. That was the plan all along.”

  There was a pause while Crispin tried to digest what she had said. Her earnest expression led him to believe she was telling the truth as she saw it, but he was struggling to believe her. The fact that she was not meeting his gaze did not help his unease. But suddenly she interrupted his musings.

  “My lord, do you know that child?” She was discretely pointing toward a small boy that was running toward their curricle while waving.

  Crispin had to bite his tongue to prevent every unclean word he knew from leaving his lips. The governess is going to be let off without a single grout, he thought viciously as he slapped the reins to goad his horses into a trot. He gritted his teeth as his companion gasped and grabbed the edge of her seat.

  “What is the matter with you? Are you running away from a child?” Her incredulity made him grimace.

  “He should know better than to accost me.”

  “He was a child.” She put heavy emphasis on the last word. “He could no more accost you than could a kitten.”

  “Kittens have claws, Miss Holton.”

  “Perhaps they do, but they aren’t going to do much damage to a grown man. And that child did not look like just any urchin. He was well dressed, and while I didn’t see much after you almost upended me from your curricle, it looked to me as though he were being chased by a governess. Perhaps he was the son of one of your friends and merely wanted to say hello or admire your handsome horses.”

  “He doesn’t belong to any of my friends.”

  “How do you know?”

  “He belongs to me.” The heavy silence that met his statement made him glance over at her. The chit had such a look of disapproval written all over her face from the furrow between her brows to the tight line her lips were pulled into that Crispin instantly knew he was in for another one of her tirades.

  “I would like to get off now, please, my lord.” Her polite words were barely audible as though she had to force them through her clenched teeth.

 
He was surprised. “Do you wish to stroll?”

  “No, my lord, I find your company distasteful, and I no longer wish to share it. I would rather walk all the way back to Sherton than spend another moment in your handsome curricle if you are also in it.”

  The earl had never been so politely but coldly insulted in all his life. “I am not leaving you on your own in Hyde Park, Miss Holton. You will have to bear with my presence until I can escort you back to your home.”

  “I believe I would be better off on my own. Please, stop this carriage right this minute.” She had been keeping her voice quiet at first, but by the end of her statement it had begun to rise.

  When he still did not pull his horses to a stop, she shifted her position, and he realized she was about to jump. He shifted all the reins to his right hand and grabbed her arm before she could. He held onto her tightly while he pulled over beside a copse of trees.

  “Are you insane? You could get killed trying such a stunt.” He wanted to shake her and bellow at her, but in an effort not to draw attention he merely hissed the words but kept his hold on her arm.

  “Let go of me,” she hissed back. “If you do not want me causing an uncomfortable scene, you will remove your hand from my person and allow me to get down from this ridiculous carriage.”

  “Ridiculous carriage?” he shot back. “Just moments ago, you were preening over the adventure of riding in my best curricle.”

  “That was before I realized you are a charlatan. I want nothing to do with you, and I feel tainted just by being in your presence. Let me go, Crossley,” she insisted.

  “I really cannot leave a madwoman to run about on her own in Hyde Park. I will escort you back to the Shertons and let them deal with you.”

  “I am not the mad one here, my lord. I am not the one who just ran away from his own son.”

  “Who said anything about him being my son?”