Earl of Weston_Wicked Regency Romance Page 3

  “Her…chest...was exposed because she fell out of her dress. It was a most inopportune moment you witnessed, I assure you. We are innocent of any wrong-doing.” Edward made a careful, measured response.

  “Innocent! Bosoms!” Archie squawked, his feathers flapping.

  Edward quirked a brow at the intrusive bird, and drew in a deep breath. He sensed his irritation was showing.

  “Miss Longbottom, I am not going to argue with you or your bird any further, and neither will we leave you on this road. You are safe, and you are coming with us.” Before she could utter another word, Edward lifted her up onto his saddle, and mounted his grey mare, settling in behind his prudish passenger. His mare nodded her head, but made no objections to the added burden.

  Bergen took the cage from her fist. He mounted his steed, with Archie and cage in hand. His horse objected to carrying the bulky cage as side baggage, snorting and tossing his head.

  The woman was blissfully silent. He was grateful for the awkward peacefulness. Edward noticed her knuckles were white from gripping the pommel of his saddle and she was leaning as far forward as she could. Priggish, ridiculous female! She might be attractive if she were not always squinting and forcing her lip to roll up into her nose in an effort to see. He recalled her broken glasses and sighed. Thankfully, this good deed would not take long, and they could be on their way, he thought, nudging Athena into a canter.

  Hattie had always been terrified of horses, and was horrified at the thought of riding on such a large animal, but her feet already ached from Archie’s extra weight and she had not yet walked above a mile. By now, her brother, Richard, would be wondering where she had got to. It was a lowering realization that her morals were so fickle, she could sink to such depths in one day as to ride with these gentlemen of ill repute. She dared not think all of her mother's and the Reverend’s warnings about the heathen world out there!

  “I am considered an expert horseman, miss,” Weston stated. He was staring at her expectantly, she noticed, squinting. It was then she realized he was waiting to boost her up. She lifted her foot, expecting him to provide a lift with his interlocked fingers but instead, he placed his hands on her waist and she was thrust upon the horse as though she were as light as one of Archie’s feathers. She could still feel the warmth from his hands on her waist and she tittered with near hysteria. When he mounted up behind her, and she could feel his thighs against hers and his chest against her back, she knew she would soon die of mortification.

  “Oh fudge,” she muttered.

  “Oh fudge! Whoremongers!” Archie repeated. He began to make a raucous, screeching sound.

  “Hush!” she reprimanded, beginning to feel vaporish.

  “Does your bird repeat everything he hears?”

  “Not always, no. Only when he is anxious or excited.”

  Weston’s arm came around her and she leaned forward to place some distance between their two bodies. She was trembling from fear and she tried not to look down.

  “What is your direction?” he asked casually as they rode at a mild cantor along the hedge-lined road.

  “I am to live with my brother. My mother passed away recently and he has graciously offered me a home with his family.”

  “Please accept my condolences. I should have apprehended such an occurrence by your mourning attire.”

  “Thank you, sir. She was an invalid for the past decade. I have scarcely left her side since I was six and ten.”

  “Your mother was fortunate to have such a devoted daughter.”

  Hattie harrumphed. “She would not have had it any other way, sir.”

  Weston made a sound as though he were smothering a laugh. She turned to discover how Archie was faring but could only see his green body bobbing up and down on the horse. She could not make out the other gentleman's face with any clarity.

  “And you, sir, where are you bound?” She politely returned the query.

  “An insipid house party, I am afraid. Duty calls.”

  They rounded a curve in the road rather briskly and she held onto the pommel and mane with all her might. She was certain she was splayed ungracefully across the poor horse’s neck.

  Weston slowed the horse once they had straightened again, but she was still afraid to open her eyes or let go of the mane.

  A gentle hand was trying to tug her upright.

  “By Jove, is that Livingston ahead?” Bergen called. Hattie could see nothing but a blur of black.

  “I think it is,” Weston replied.

  “I’ll wager you a monkey we can overtake him before Eynsham.”

  Where they speaking of a race? Hattie wanted no part of this. She was finally beginning to settle and feel perhaps there was some gentlemanly behavior to be found in this pair. Then she was pulled back into his chest.

  “What are you doing?” she shrieked.

  “Hold on my dear, this will not take a minute,” he whispered in her ear, holding her body plastered up against him in a most vulgar fashion which sent strange new sensations coursing through her stomach.

  Soon they were galloping so hard her entire body was jarred and clods of mud flew everywhere. If she was not blind before, then she was sure to be now. Her bonnet came untied and she could feel the wind whipping her hair. It would be exhilarating if she did not fear she would fall to her death.

  “I demand you to stop at once!” She squinted up at him, until a whiff of dust found her nose. She fought to hold back the sneeze threatening.

  “Sorry, my love. It will be over in a moment.” His voice was dripping with amusement.

  She attempted to wriggle free, fearing she would be safer on the ground.

  “Be still, woman!” he shouted at her as he pulled on the reins and slowed.

  “You, sir, are no gentleman! Racing with a gently bred lady on your horse surpasses…everything!” she exclaimed, trying to catch her breath, which was heaving violently in her chest.

  The two gave each other at look, but she could not make it out. The men dismounted, and Weston assisted her down from Athena. Bergen handed Archie to her. They both bowed regally.

  “I humbly beg your pardon, miss,” Weston said, but she could not determine if he was mocking her or not.

  “Are you certain this is your destination?” he asked.

  “Yes, quite. This is where Richard was to meet me, but I would not go one foot further with either of you blackguards!”

  “Very well. Good day to you, miss. Good day to you, Archie,” Weston said pleasantly.

  “Good day! Bosoms! Whoremongers!” Archie returned to the bellowing laughter of the two gentlemen. Hattie watched them gracefully remount and raise their hats as they rode away, as though they had done her a great favor.

  Chapter 3

  The two riders turned off the main road onto a pebbled drive, heavily lined with oak trees, just as the weather turned wet. Edward noticed that the trees protected them from the light drizzle.

  Bergen broke the silence with a snigger. “I say, Livingston was startled to see me pull ahead of him, carrying a bird cage and parrot, no less. He is probably still laughing. But you and Miss Longbottom had already bested him—the woman was practically glued to you.”

  “He seemed equally entertained with Miss Longbottom. Especially when she started reciting Bible verses as soon as we stopped. Interesting spinster, I think. Gaining a monkey was worth the brief discomfort. I was thoroughly diverted!”

  Edward’s horse suddenly nodded and neighed, as if in response, causing both men to hoot with laughter.

  The trees thinned as a three-story brick home came into view. “It has been a long time since I have been here. I believe the last was some sort of affair for Coventry, and it was a tedious bore. As I recall, I thought Lord and Lady Brentley were the most ill-suited couple. She was loud and wearing, and he was affable and undemanding.” He was silent for a moment. “Bizarre as it is, I cannot stop thinking of that mad parrot and the righteous spinster.” Edward chuckled at his new na
mes for the odd pair. “He has more personality than his owner, I fear.” It had been a long time since he had seen an exotic talking bird. The last time was an exhibit at a local fair, years ago.

  “The impulse to race Livingston in company with the spinster and her bird was probably ill-advised on our part, although thoroughly entertaining. I thought your lady passenger would have an apoplexy. If you could have seen her face!” Bergen slapped his thigh with mirth. “I almost dropped the damn parrot!”

  “I confess, I was not sure how we were going to make it the few miles we did.” Edward did not wish to think about the imprudent race, nor the shockingly luscious body he had felt pressed up against him every step of the way. “Do you think this party will be well-attended? If I have to dance with wallflowers, I prefer at least to have a choice among them.”

  “Dance with wallflowers! Whoremongers!” Bergen mimicked Archie, chuckling at his own jest as they pulled up before the house. Jumping down, they both handed the reins to a waiting groom and simultaneously took the steps by two. It appeared Bergen was as anxious to get through the necessary formalities and relax in his room as Edward was.

  “Thank goodness we are rid of that annoying pair, although I do not think I have had such fun in a while. I’m looking forward to a tumbler of good brandy and a bath. She was meeting her brother. Do you think he has a pet monkey?” They both laughed at the jibe, as they walked towards the door. I need to focus on Hampton, not that pesky pair. Despite the jokes at her expense, Edward found himself thinking of her.

  A stooped and greying butler admitted them, and after taking their damp outer cloaks, ordered the footman to escort them to their bedchambers.

  Lady Bentley greeted them on her way out of the house. “My lords! I was so happy to receive your acceptances. It is so good of you to come. You must be worn-out from your journey. Please allow our staff to address any requests you have.” She hesitated, and then nodded towards the footman who stood ready to take the luggage.

  “I sensed that she had much more to say,” Bergen whispered.

  “Be grateful she was headed out,” he muttered. “I hope to find Hampton as soon as possible. His disappearance puzzles me.” Edward spoke quietly as they headed upstairs to their rooms. “Mother still blames me for Robert’s death, you know. To be honest, I cannot help but feel guilty because I was not here to help him—I knew Robert’s betrothed was having an affair with Remington, and I chose to ignore it, irritated by his overbearing manner towards me. He chose Hampton as his second—and they had been friends since being in leading-strings. I find it hard to understand his disappearance, though. Instinct tells me he saw something, even if he does not realize it. When I approached his brother, Perry, he was insistent Hampton knew nothing…and I had only asked if Hampton was at home.”

  “That is curious.”

  “Yes, I found the defensiveness peculiar, in itself.”

  The footman stopped in front of two doors at the end of the hall. “My lords, these are your apartments. Please let me know if you require anything.

  “We are next to each other.”

  “So, it appears. Do try to keep your liaisons to a dull roar,” Bergen jested.

  “If you will keep your snoring to one,” Edward retorted.

  “At least Archie will not be our neighbor tonight.”

  “Indeed.” They laughed as they entered their respective chambers.

  Edward opened his door, and the footman brought in his portmanteau, placing it on a stool next to the wash-hand stand. He noticed two comfortable brown leather chairs, already warming from facing the crackling fire in front of them.

  “Ahem, would you bring me a decanter of brandy and a bath?” He issued his request just before the footman closed the door, causing the man to stop and turn.

  “Yes, my lord. At once.”

  Edward pulled a cigarillo from his jacket, and using the fire, he lit it and settled back into one of the leather chairs. It is curious indeed. I had not even considered the possibility of…

  A knock on his door stirred him from his contemplation. “Come in.”

  “My lord, your brandy.” The footman entered, carrying a tray with a decanter and two glasses, placing them on the small table nestled between the two chairs.

  “Thank you,” Edward nodded and reached for the bottle. He uncorked it and poured himself a drink.

  “Your bath is also here, my lord.” The footman stepped aside as servants entered, carrying pails of water for the copper tub. They filled the tub and left the room.

  Edward decided to just move the small table and decanter closer to the tub.

  He swirled the amber liquid slowly before raising it to his lips and swigging it down. That was precisely what I needed. He refilled his glass and settled into his bath, his thoughts on the conversation with Hampton’s brother. He had not given that exchange enough thought. Perry was very abrupt, which was out of character for him. He could not imagine what had got into him. Now that he thought more on this, though, what did Perry know? His behavior would suggest he knew something. Edward made a mental note to visit the man as soon as he returned to town. He then tossed down his drink and helped himself to a third from the nearby table, reasoning that it would help him to relax from the long ride while he bathed.

  Two hours later, Edward knocked on Bergen’s door.

  Bergen opened it, still fastening his cuffs. “I almost overslept. I found the bath and nap very restorative. How about you, Weston?”

  “Yes, I feel much better. Bentley’s cellars are superb, particularly the brandy.”

  “I will have to sample that delightful beverage, perhaps after tonight’s festivities.”

  The two men proceeded downstairs to join other guests who were gathering in the drawing room for tea. Edward quickly considered those guests already gathered. He caught sight of Lady Pennywaite, but not Hampton. Her ladyship appeared engaged in a rather flirtatious conversation with Lord Purdy. Edward nudged Bergen and discreetly nodded in her direction.

  “What do you make of that?”

  “Judging from her level of interest, I would say that Lord Hampton has not yet gained an advantage.” He smirked and pointed to the door. Hampton had just entered and was heading in Lady Pennywaite's direction, a look of annoyance on his face.

  “Ah. I was going to interrupt the two, but this could be an enjoyable interlude in what promises to be a boring evening.” Edward accepted a glass of champagne as a footman passed them, and observed the trio. Lady Pennywaite stepped to the side, a look of feigned confusion on her face, as Lord Hampton and Lord Purdy began exchanging words. With the level of tension in the room, he could not hear them, so he began moving in their direction. A screech stopped him in his tracks.

  Loud squawks erupted again from entrance hall.

  “Bergen, tell me you did not hear what I just heard.”

  “It depends. If you are referring to the argument in front of us, I did not. But if you are referring to the too-familiar squawking coming from the doorway, I am afraid I did.”

  Both men exchanged their empty glasses for ones filled with champagne from the circulating footman and moved towards the hall doorway to observe discreetly from the threshold.

  “I cannot believe this. What are they doing here?” Edward leered at the scene in front of them.

  “Ah! I believe this house must belong to the brother and his wife. How delightful for us to be able to join our new friends again.” Bergen grinned.

  The two men watched the discourse between their hostess and her newest guests. Lady Louisa Bentley was speaking in harsh tones to Miss Longbottom. A familiar face squinted back at her hostess, gripping the cage with the screaming green parrot at her side. So, this is her brother’s home, Edward mused. How had he missed the resemblance to Lord Bentley? Her brother never wore spectacles in public and both squinted in a similar fashion. He suspected Archie’s outburst had little to do with Lady Bentley’s rudeness and more to do with some hidden motive. Miss Longbot
tom looked crestfallen.

  Lady Bentley made angry gestures towards her and then turned and moved in the direction he was standing. She stopped when she saw a footman and waved him to her side.

  “Take her to the third floor, and place them in the furthest room in the maids’ quarters,” she ordered in a nasty tone. “It is empty and I wish to see her and her surly bird as little as possible while my guests are here.” Her feelings towards the lady and Archie were abundantly clear. It infuriated him to see Miss Longbottom treated thus.

  When had he become protective of her? Perhaps it was just that he was annoyed about the way she was being treated, although he could feel his temple pulsing with anger. He raised his hand and rubbed it. There might even be a small sense of guilt over her perceived humiliation earlier.

  “Excuse me, my lady.” He caught Lady Bentley’s attention. “I could not help but overhear that you are unfortunately short of rooms. Miss Longbottom is a fond acquaintance of both Lord Bergen and myself. I will gladly offer my bedchamber for her use. I have but to collect my bag and I can then share Lord Bergen’s accommodation.”

  “Nonsense. There will be no need for that. My wife has merely forgotten about the three new rooms we have had refurbished in anticipation of our guests.” Lord Richard Bentley stepped into the hall and handed his cloak and cane to the waiting footman. “Louisa, please have the staff prepare a bath for my sister. She will certainly appreciate a brief respite before our festivities this evening.” He smiled towards Weston and Bergen, but the glare of anger towards his wife was unmistakable. “Williams, take my sister’s belongings to the pink velvet room and ask Sally to attend her.”

  “As you wish, my lord.”

  “And please take her companion, Archie, to the room as well.” He turned to his wife and spoke in a low voice, away from the others. “They will not be dismissed to the third floor.”

  Lady Bentley flushed at the barely veiled reprimand.

  “Yes, my lord.” The footman led Miss Longbottom and Archie upstairs.