Unrivalled Regency: A Gallant Gamble Part 2

"We are all ready, My Lord, Ladies" He gave a bow to Alexander's mother and began to turn back the way he came.

Giles gave a cough.

"You have no need to be so formal, Geoffrey. We are all friends here."

Geoffrey glanced back over his shoulder. He nodded once, acknowledging the man behind him.

"Here we may be, but I am preparing myself for London. Things won't be quite so simple there. I don't want to lapse and offend anyone," he paused as he cast his gaze back to Charlotte. A slight flush spread over his cheeks as he spoke again. "Lady Charlotte's chances on the marriage mart will be ruined if I am seen as too familiar or too cra.s.s. I wouldn't want that to happen. She needs to be seen in her best light if she is to catch a husband by the end of the season." His tone was as flat and as cold as the marble floor on which they stood. He walked out of the front door and back down the steps towards the carriage.

Charlotte looked as if she was about to explode.

"How dare he! And how dare you too! I'm not some piece of horseflesh to be traded at a ball. No one is going to ruin me or my chances. I don't want to be married. I don't even want to go," she hissed again as she pa.s.sed Geoffrey on her way to the carriage. He didn't turn in her direction but mounted Lightning in a swift, fluid motion.

Giles handed Olivia up first and then offered his hand to Charlotte. She lifted her chin and her skirts and bounded into the carriage without any a.s.sistance. He leaned inside the door and gave her a quick smile.

"Goodbye cousin. I will see you in a fortnight or so. Try not to get into mischief before then and do try to keep the diamond safe. I have a feeling that Geoffrey will have an apoplexy if you lose it and cause him any trouble." He leaned in and brushed a gentle kiss over her forehead. Charlotte's stiff demeanour faded at his show of affection. She wound her arms around his neck and kissed his cheek back.

"I have the stone perfectly safe, don't worry. You just hurry those lambs along, cousin. I am already missing you, Anne and Marcus."

Giles smiled warmly as he hugged her back.

"We'll come as soon as we can. Now you be good and don't cause Geoffrey any concern. We'll see you all in less than a month." He stepped from the carriage and closed the door.

Olivia tucked blankets around their knees and rested her feet on the heated bricks that Craddock had arranged to keep them warm and comfortable during their journey. She chuckled as she waved farewell out of the carriage to Giles.

Charlotte blew him a last kiss before turning to look out of the opposite window. Geoffrey rode Lightning easily by their side. His straight back and relaxed shoulders showed his excellent form. Her eyes moved lower and she felt her heart flutter dangerously. His thighs looked as though they were moulded to the saddle.

Charlotte felt the heat rise in her face and she turned quickly away from the window as she realized that Olivia had seen where her gaze lay.

The older woman laughed and patted Charlotte on her arm as she shook her head knowingly.

"That dour man could do with someone causing some trouble around him. He was quite a puny child, always getting into mischief with Philip and Alexander even though he was several years younger. His father was my husband's steward. A good man. His mother still lives near Ormond. I must go and visit her sometime. We used to get along quite well." She looked out of the window again. "I can't believe the boy has grown so, but then boys do that, I suppose. He is so tall and broad now, and even quite handsome in his way, but where he used to be so friendly, he is now so stiff and unbending. He used to smile and laugh all the time. These days I think he looks as though he has a poker shoved up his..." The rest of her words were lost in the squeal of laughter that left Charlotte's lips as Callum whipped up the horses and they set off at a quick trot down the drive and towards London.

Chapter Three.

Windows and Wardrobes Charlotte craned her neck and pressed her cheek against the window to take in a better view of the street outside.

"Geoffrey spoke to me while you slept." The only words she had heard from him since leaving the final inn on their journey, that morning. "He said that we would arrive shortly. Is it far yet, Olivia?" She glanced back to Alexander's mother who had been snoring gently until a few moments previously. Now the older woman peered out of the window with Charlotte. She ducked her head back again after a few seconds and tucked the loosened blanket back around her knees.

"I believe we are close, but it is hard to see with the press of carriages. We must have arrived at the promenade hour. I do hope that young Callum is able to control the horses in this crush. It would be a catastrophe to have our arrival announced by an accident."

Charlotte sat back against the cus.h.i.+ons, raised an eyebrow and smiled as mischief danced in her eyes.

"Yes, I agree that it would not do to arrive with scratches on the paintwork and our skirts above our ears."

Olivia laughed behind her gloved hand. The two of them had become firm friends over their week long journey to London, Charlotte finding Olivia to be far more outrageous than she had supposed and Olivia discovering that Charlotte was quite shamefully refres.h.i.+ng.

"You are simply dreadful, Charlotte. It will not do, you know. Skirts above our ears indeed! I'm sure that I don't know how you think of such things...However, though you amuse this old woman to the point of near tears, you will have to curb that tongue of yours if we are to s.n.a.t.c.h the best bachelor of the season out from under the noses of the other young hopefuls. The debutants will be clamouring for attention, but I am confident that you will outs.h.i.+ne them all."

Charlotte stopped smiling immediately.

"And who might this best bachelor be? You know that I am absolutely against any match. Marriage is not for me. I am unsuited to being a wife. I couldn't possibly give up the freedoms that I have now, and besides, apart from the diamond left to me by my father, Giles has made provision for me. I am quite capable of looking after myself." She thought of the diamond that sat snugly in a small velvet purse hidden inside her chemise. She would make sure that she sold it for the best price and then she would never have to come to London or do anything quite so foolhardy as pretend to look for a husband ever again.

Olivia shook her head and smiled indulgently.

"I never heard of anything quite so singular. Every woman needs a husband and children. There is nothing else for it but to marry, however we will make sure that the man we choose for you is no bore. Nor will he have any pokers sticking anywhere." She laughed at Charlotte's incredulous expression before continuing. "There should be a young earl or two willing to take on a feisty, independent bride such as you. With your looks, t.i.tle and prospects of a decent dowry, you are sure to have more choice than the average chit." She gave a satisfied sigh at the thought.

Charlotte wasn't so keen on the idea. She turned towards the window to take in the view once again, but all she could see was Geoffrey's broad back as he rode confidently alongside them on Lightning and kept the carriage free from harm.

She watched closely as his wide shoulders and muscled thighs appeared to guide her horse through the crush of traffic with ease, and she gulped back the anger that rolled over her every time he neared them as he controlled her beautiful stallion with enviable grace.

Though it pained her to admit it, however much he disliked her, there wasn't another man alive who she would have trusted so well with her prize horse, but he had been barely polite to her for the whole seven days of their journey. Leaving the ladies in their hired private rooms at each inn while he had eaten with Callum in the public bars, Geoffrey had spoken to her not at all apart from the odd enquiry as to whether her sleeping quarters were adequate or a question about her dinner or breakfast selections.

Each morning his generous lips had appeared as if they were sculpted from marble; so cold and inflexible, and his piercing silver grey eyes crackled with ice whenever he looked her way. She knew that his animosity all stemmed from the night Starlight was born. He clearly thought her a harlot for removing her dress, but there had been no other option other than ruining the beautiful gown and she couldn't have let that happen when there were other far easier options. It wasn't as if she had bared anything to Geoffrey. She had at least two other layers on beneath her chemise. Unlike him, who had bared his powerful chest to her with barely a murmur.

She closed her eyes briefly and tried to erase the sight of his sculpted torso and the scent of clean man from her mind, but it was impossible. She had seen statues of the Greek G.o.ds. She had viewed life in art. She knew what perfection in the masculine form should look like.

Geoffrey had not appeared to be lacking in any way. The play of tight muscles beneath his silken skin as he had moved that night had mesmerized her completely, and she had dreamed of what his warm, toned flesh might have felt like beneath her palm nearly every night since. She breathed in deeply as if she could catch his unique scent again while her heart pounded furiously at the very thought of all his male glory on display that night.

She swallowed a deep sigh, cleared her head and opened her eyes again as the carriage drew to a stop. Not a minute later, the door opened and Geoffrey bent to draw out the step below the entrance to the carriage.

A sharp cough sounded from behind him.

"Sir, if you please, you will soil your hands. Let me."

Geoffrey didn't even glance backwards as he pulled the second step out. The cough came again and this time he hesitated, though he still didn't look back.

"Sir, your hands! The step is filthy from travel. You will ruin your gloves. Here, let me."

Geoffrey stood up and turned towards the man who had spoken. He pointed to his own chest.

"Are you referring to me?" He asked in some confusion.

The servant behind him nodded quickly.

"Of course, Sir. Bottomley at your service. Master Alexander sent word that you would be arriving with the mistress and Lady Denvers today. Your rooms are all prepared, Mr. Talbot. If you would just let me see to the carriage, Mrs. Bottomley will show you to your rooms. Everything is prepared for your convenience in accordance with His Grace's instructions." Bottomley squeezed around Geoffrey and bent to secure the carriage steps.

Geoffrey frowned but had no time to think before Alexander's mother appeared at the carriage door. He immediately lifted his hand to a.s.sist her as she smiled down at her butler.

"Bottomley! How wonderful. I take it that you and Mrs. Bottomley are well. It is delightful to be back. I have spent too long away from town, but plan to make up for lost time with this darling girl." She stepped to the ground and turned as Charlotte reached out for Geoffrey's poised hand and descended from the carriage. "My dear friend and protege, Lady Charlotte Denvers. Such a beautiful young woman. She will take London by storm, don't you know!" The Dowager d.u.c.h.ess declared with a wave of her hand as she swept up the steps of the townhouse and in through the wide front door.

Charlotte stared after her and then looked up at Geoffrey who still held her hand. She blinked twice as he appeared to be on the brink of speaking, but instead, he let her hand slip from his and turned to help the d.u.c.h.ess's maid down from their conveyance.

Charlotte felt the chill air stiffen her fingers. He had held her hand for only a brief moment but it was enough to send spikes of pure heat through her whole body. Now she felt a sharp rush of cold air encase her. She pulled her cloak tighter about her shoulders and glanced back to watch Olivia's maid give a quick shudder as she left the comparable heat of the carriage before quickly running up the stairs behind her mistress.

Charlotte stood alone on the pavement in front of the tall house, taking her time to regain her composure as tumbling thoughts cluttered her mind. She looked down at her gloved hand and slowly curled her fingers. She had felt Geoffrey's heat through both his and her own gloves, but he had clearly noticed nothing. Despondency gripped her heart. It wasn't as though she had any expectations of the man, but to receive a constant display of frosty aloofness hurt her more than she liked to admit. She squared her shoulders in a display of indifference and it was only as she mounted the steps to follow Olivia that Charlotte heard heated voices behind her.

"I beg your pardon, Sir, but I must be allowed to do my job. Please leave the bags to me."

There was a familiar answering grunt before she heard Geoffrey's gravelled tones.

"It's fine. I am perfectly capable of managing a few trunks. Go about some other business."

Bottomley's tone became more agitated.

"But Sir, I must insist! I have my instructions from the Duke! Please go into the house. Mrs. Bottomley is waiting to show you to your rooms."

Geoffrey's answer sounded even gruffer than previously.

"I don't need to be shown to the stable. I can find that by myself; and please stop calling me Sir. Geoff is fine."

There was a sharp intake of breath and a thoroughly shocked voice responded to his words.

"The stables? You think that you will be situated above the horses? Good heavens! I never heard the like, Sir! The very idea!" Bottomley stuck out his bottom lip and lifted his chin defiantly. "The rooms above the stables are reserved for the groomsmen and stable lads. Your driver will be housed there. You Sir are in the suite opposite the Master's rooms. The stables indeed! Master Alexander would have me flogged!" Bottomley carried on muttering with increasing unease and Charlotte turned to watch in amazement as the Butler attempted to wrestle a trunk from Geoffrey's arms.

Geoffrey was not giving way and held on hard. She hid a smile as she walked back down the steps to the struggling pair. She tapped Geoffrey on his arm and jumped backwards as he turned so swiftly towards her that his broad shoulder nearly caught her about the head. Gathering herself quickly she spoke in lowered tones.

"Geoffrey, I wonder if you would mind escorting me inside. I am rather overwhelmed by the thought of meeting the staff alone. In her enthusiasm, Olivia has sailed in without me." Charlotte blinked her long, dark lashes slowly up at him and the trunk immediately fell from his hands sending Bottomley sprawling backwards as the case was unexpectedly released from Geoffrey's grasp. After a few moments spent picking up and untangling the astonished but unscathed servant from the luggage, Geoffrey glanced up at the open door of the surprisingly large house and noticed a line of stiff shouldered staff wearing starched white ap.r.o.ns waiting in the entrance hall.

"Of course, Lady Charlotte." He made a short bow and held out an elbow. She placed her hand on it, inclined her head and whispered to him as they walked up the steps.

"You really must let the staff do their jobs, Geoff. Not that Alexander or Olivia would ever do anything so reprehensible, but many servants fear that they will be dismissed if they are made to look dispensable." She nodded an affirmation as surprise lit his eyes. "I have heard of it happen in some of the more heartless households. The staff won't like you attending to anything that is in their job description. You are Olivia's and my friend and escort, not our servant."

Geoffrey ground his teeth together irritably before speaking.

"I was seeing to your comfort in descending from the carriage. You had been sitting in there for hours each day and I only sought to release you from the dullness of your confinement. I didn't even know that the man was speaking to me at first. I've never been addressed as 'Sir' in my life before." His tone told of his surprise and discomfort.

Charlotte gave a small laugh.

"Well, you had best get used to it, Mr. Talbot. No more step pulling or carrying bags from this moment onwards." She looked up at him and rolled her eyes at his deep frown as a rough growl reached her ears.

He stared straight forwards, clenching his jaw tightly and d.a.m.ning his own ignorance as they reached the entrance to the Duke of Ormond's magnificent London home. Even the light press of her fingertips was too much. Their week travelling together had been utter torture. He had ached for some kind of release as he had watched her elegant form come down to dine each evening.

From his position in the various taprooms, unable to keep his eyes off the mirrors that reflected her image, he had observed her dusky-dark eyelashes dropping to her cheeks as she selected the cuts of meat and cheese from her plate. His mouth had grown dry at the way her rose red lips had closed over the choice morsels of food and his breeches had strained to near breaking point at the images conjured in his head. His heart had thumped so wildly throughout the following dark hours that he had been sure that young Callum, sleeping in the same quarters, would wake from his slumber and worry for the horses being scared of the thunderstorm of noise.

Sweat had poured from his brow as he had tossed and turned in his bed. Knowing that he could never have her and that she would be married to some undeserving earl or lord before summer's end was more than he could stand, but he had no idea what he could do about it.

Avoidance had been his only defence from her over the autumn and winter since the night Starlight had been born. He couldn't bear being in such close proximity to her with the memory of that evening still so vivid in his mind, and had hoped to keep his sanity while in London by being housed in the stable block, but it seemed that Alexander had other ideas.

He nodded at each of the staff in turn, as Bottomley's wife introduced them to the household staff. He raised his eyebrows in surprise as each bobbed him a curtsey or gave a bow, but a quick press of Charlotte's gloved fingers on his arm told him to say nothing of his disquiet at the gesture. There were more servants than he thought necessary, but he soon realized that with all the added entertaining a London season required, the d.u.c.h.ess would have hired extra staff.

Mrs. Bottomley finished the introductions and stood smiling as she waited by the stairs.

"I must say, Mr. Talbot, that it's a pleasure to meet you at last. Master Alexander has told us much about you, and some of us remember your father with great respect. He was a decent and well liked man and we were all sorry to hear of his demise. Please accept our belated condolences." Geoffrey gulped with sudden and unexpected emotion. Though he had known that his father had sometimes travelled with the old Duke, it had never occurred to Geoffrey that the London household would remember his father, let alone mention him.

His throat tightened at the kind thoughts and he nodded an acknowledgement to the woman then stood silently observing the vast entrance hall of Alexander's London home while she continued speaking to Charlotte.

A splendid crystal chandelier, lit by what looked like a hundred candles, drooped elegantly from the ceiling above his head, its sparkling gla.s.s droplets sending s.h.i.+mmers of light in every direction. Silk covered chairs lined the walls and through each of the two doors leading immediately from the hallway, he noticed yards of rich silk cascading at the windows. Polished floor tiles gleamed beneath his feet and a ten-foot high mirror situated opposite the wide staircase reflected the astonishment evident on his own face.

He'd had no idea that Alexander owned such a magnificent house. Having only ever lived at Ormond he had not realized how lavish the London property could be. On the occasions that Alexander had accompanied his father, he had never mentioned anything so grand as this on his return. Ormond was nothing like so extravagant. The stone walls of the ancient castle remained unadorned throughout and the stark severity had only just been lessened these last four years by Lily's artful ingenuity as Alexander had slowly brought his household income back into riches. It was clear that this London home had been decorated by his parents to a far more luxuriant standard, possibly in an attempt to keep up a pretence of wealth, even though he had been dealing with his first son's crippling debts and a blackmailer whose relentless demands had brought both men to their early deaths.

Geoffrey's attention came back to Mrs. Bottomley as he listened to the woman's last words to Charlotte.

"Lady Charlotte, please ask if there is anything that you might need. The mistress informs me that you didn't bring your own maid. Louise will be pleased to help you." A young woman standing just behind her bobbed a curtsey and smiled shyly at Charlotte. Mrs. Bottomley brushed non-existent dirt from her ap.r.o.n before adding. "I will show you up immediately. We've laid on a light tea to be taken in your rooms while your baths are made ready. Dinner will be at seven thirty." She turned and began walking briskly up the stairs.

They pa.s.sed several doors before stopping near the end of the corridor. Louise bustled inside the bedroom and began to unpack Charlotte's trunks while Mrs. Bottomley signalled for Geoffrey to follow her. They walked in silence around the corner before she opened a heavily carved door and stood back to let Geoffrey enter the room.

Geoffrey took one step over threshold, stopped dead and stifled a gasp. The bed alone was nearly as big as his room above the stables at Ormond. He almost backed out again before he remembered that he was no longer a servant but acting as an escort for the d.u.c.h.ess and Charlotte. He took a steadying breath before walking towards the huge windows that looked out over an enclosed formal garden that led into what appeared to be a shrubbery and small orchard. The back of the house and an orangery formed two walls of the delightful s.p.a.ce. The third appeared to be a high wall between this garden and the next. The rear of the garden darkened into a line of budding trees. He spied a rustic looking summerhouse that was partially covered in creeping plants with dark purple blossoms. With tulips peeping out between other plants in the flower beds, the place looked positively idyllic.

"The view is to be admired," he said just because he felt he needed to say something to dispel the awkward atmosphere. He heard a clink behind him and turned to see a maid pouring water into a bowl. A cake of soap and a cloth sat beside it.

"For your hands, sir." Mrs. Bottomley touched the side of the bowl as the maid hurried from the room. "I noticed that you drew out the steps of the carriage. What with your long journey they cannot have been the cleanest and even wearing gloves you might have soiled your hands. We'll have them and the whole carriage spotless before you take it out again." She glanced at where his fingers had caught hold of the long drapes at the window.

Geoffrey looked hands and dropped them quickly to his sides when he saw the smears of dirt.

"Of course, thank you." He gave a curt nod thinking that she would remove herself from the room, but she didn't. She suddenly walked towards the gargantuan mahogany wardrobe and turned the key.

"Coalport has already unpacked your clothes, sir. It was fortunate that the master thought to send them on last week. I think the ladies trunks took all the room on your carriage today."

He frowned in confusion. His own small valise with his only suit had been on the carriage with them. It took a moment or two and the opening of the wardrobe door before he realized what the woman was talking about. His eyes widened at the array of jackets, breeches and s.h.i.+rts. He could see an open fronted drawer of starched cravats and another of pressed handkerchiefs. Several pairs of boots lined the bottom of the vast s.p.a.ce. The woman opened the other side of the wardrobe to reveal even more evening suits and shoes along with what looked like under garments and several nights.h.i.+rts. He rolled his eyes at these items thinking of the money Alexander had obviously wasted. Geoffrey always slept in the nude.

He gulped back his amazement and gave the woman another nod of thanks.

"Yes, The Duke is surely the best of men. He thinks of everything." He fisted his hands. He was going to strangle the man as soon as he saw him. It all made sense now. He'd wondered how one of his sets of clothes and boots had gone missing the month previously. He'd even enquired about them to Grady, Alexander's own valet, thinking the man might have sent his clothes for laundering by mistake.

He pressed his lips together and fumed at how he had been played for a fool. Alexander and Giles had clearly known that they would have their way. These clothes must have been ordered long before they had asked him to escort the d.u.c.h.ess and Charlotte.

He clamped his jaws together in frustration while his mind whirled at the obvious and colossal expense. A single jackets would cost more than Mrs. Bottomley's wages for the year and he didn't even want to imagine the price of the pairs of handmade boots.

He ran a hand through his already dishevelled hair and was about to ask the woman to have it all sent back when there was a smart rap on the door and one of the footmen came in with three maids trailing behind him. They all carried buckets of steaming water and quickly disappeared behind a previously unnoticed screen. The sounds of pouring water followed. Two more maids came hurrying in with more buckets followed by another carrying a tray of tea and a plate of delicate looking sandwiches. They all bobbed a curtsey as they left the room quickly followed by the footman and Mrs. Bottomley who turned and closed the doors firmly behind her.

Geoffrey slumped onto the bed in defeat and stared about him. It was all too much. He knew Alexander cla.s.sed him as a friend, but this extravagance was overwhelming. He stood again and peered into the wardrobe. The light scent of clean linen a.s.saulted his nose and his eyes took in the rail of soft looking s.h.i.+rts. His fingertips touched the linen and confirmed his suspicions. The material was indeed soft. The softest he had ever felt. He lifted a lapel of one of the many jackets. The fabric was of the finest quality and the tiny hand st.i.tching, clearly the work of a master tailor, was almost invisible to the naked eye. He glanced down at his own jacket, s.h.i.+rt and breeches. Although it wasn't anything to be ashamed of, the ensemble had clearly seen better days.

The white of his almost threadbare s.h.i.+rt was more of an off grey and frayed st.i.tching looped in several places on his jacket. The cuffs were worn and faded and one looked as though he'd spilled last night's onion gravy over it. He lifted his arm and gave a hesitant sniff beneath it. The jacket didn't smell that fresh either. He didn't dare look down at his breeches and boots. He knew that they would be travel worn and grimy. He groaned as he realized that he had been introduced to every single one of the staff while he looked more poorly dressed and lowlier than any of them.

Bile began to rise at the humiliation he felt, not so much for himself but for Charlotte. He ignored the tray of food even though his stomach grumbled. Although the breakfast at the inn that morning had been perfectly adequate, his reserves of nourishment had long since been used up, but the need to look the part had suddenly become far more urgent than his rumbling stomach.

Charlotte had come to his rescue in his tussle with the butler. She had taken his arm without thought, on her way into the house. He desperately tried to recall if there had been any neighbours watching the scuffle or if anyone apart from the servants, had seen them mount the steps. He couldn't countenance the thought of her being embarra.s.sed by him or his inferior apparel. He wanted to kick himself for not considering it in the first place but he had only brought one other change of ordinary clothes and his Sunday suit, stupidly thinking that they would be adequate.

He dragged his jacket from his tired shoulders, loosened the creased cloth tied about his neck before divesting himself of his grubby s.h.i.+rt and shabby breeches. He rubbed his palm over his jaw and, after feeling the rasp of day old stubble, used the water in the bowl, the soap and the blade beside it to shave. He wiped the last of the soap from his chin with a cloth at the side of the dresser and strode around the screen before losing the rest of his clothes and climbing into a bath bigger than any he had ever seen in his life before.

The hot water engulfed him and for a moment he worried that it would slosh over the sides onto the richly woven rug beside it, but his careful movements stopped any accident. He sighed as he slipped lower into the water. Some parts of becoming a temporary gentleman were certainly worth putting up with. His own hipbath at Ormond could barely accommodate him squatting let alone sitting.