Earl of Weston_Wicked Regency Romance Page 4

  When his sister was out of view, Lord Bentley turned to his wife. “My dear, I believe we have everything in order. Let us join the others in the drawing room.” He held out his arm for his wife to accompany him.

  She turned to Edward. “My lord, you are so gallant. I do apologize for putting you in such a position. I am ashamed to say I had momentarily forgotten that extra rooms have already been prepared. I had planned to move my dear sister to a freshly appointed room tomorrow.” She simpered. “How did you say that you became acquainted with my…husband’s dearest sister?”

  Smiling tightly, Edward forced a pleasant response. “I do not believe I did.” He nodded and exchanged his empty glass for another filled one. “May we join you in the drawing room?” He and Bergen accompanied their host and hostess as they joined the rest of the guests.

  Hattie sat on the edge of a chair after releasing Archie from his cage. She was miserable and exhausted—much too fatigued to give a fig for the fine room with its pink velvet draperies and matching rose wallpaper. A bath of water sat steaming in the corner of the room, calling her name. She was too tired to even consider the evening’s festivities. No doubt, if he knew, the Reverend Hastings would accuse her of melodrama, but it had been the worst day of her life, and now Richard’s wife hated her. Hattie would much rather stay in the attic than feel the ire of that Jezebel. How misguided in her had she been! Aunt Matilda's offer was looking more palatable—were it not for poor Archie.

  If only Hattie had known Richard was hosting a house party, she would have delayed her arrival. Could this day get any worse? She needed a long, hot soaking bath and a good sleep. Perhaps she would be able to laugh about the day’s adventures some time, far-off in the future.

  Pulling off her half-boots was almost too taxing, Hattie was so exhausted. However, such habits were well ingrained and she pulled her dirty dress over her head and began to rinse some of the day’s traveling dust away, as she lowered herself into the readied bath.

  Her gown was also in need of a thorough scrubbing—sponging would not do. Hattie had nothing but her petticoats and shift, with all her belongings having gone with the stage. She bit her lip in an effort not to give in to the doldrums. When she thought about the horrors of the day, she shuddered. It could have been worse; her person had not been irreparably harmed, only her dignity and her spectacles.

  “Everything will appear better in the morning, Archie.”

  The parrot cocked his head to the side when she spoke to him and then bobbed his head up and down in agreement. Why could he not to be so agreeable when they were with strangers? Those two rogues who pretended to be gentlemen had encouraged Archie to misbehave!

  Her temper flared and she scrubbed voraciously when she thought of all the indignities that had been forced upon her in one day. What she had suffered! Indeed, were the church nearby, she would be confessing to the Reverend for hours!

  Grateful for the bath, she lay on the bed once she was satisfied she would not soil it, and Archie perched on the end rail of the bed. Out of the window, even she could make out that it was a beautiful estate, surrounded by a meadow and woodlands beyond it. Hattie had used to dream of the day she would be mistress of her own household, but in her heart had known she had most likely missed the chance when her father died and her mother’s pastime of invalidity became reality.

  A tear trickled down her cheek and she wiped it away with the back of her hand. Six-and-twenty was far too practical an age to be pining over silly romantic notions. However, there had to be some way to avoid living under this roof forever. Perhaps Richard would be willing to release her inheritance to her once she was out of mourning and he had accustomed himself to the notion of her as a spinster.

  There was a knock on the door and Hattie realized her state of undress.

  “Who is there?” she asked timidly.

  “Why are you not dressed?” Louisa burst into the room in a frenzy of coquelicot silk trimmed with lace. Not enough to mind her assets, Hattie thought as she tried to focus her eyes somewhere other than her sister’s expanse of skin. It only made her head ache more. Archie stood at attention, his feathers spread, and chattered in agitation, the sound low as though he were muttering. Louisa glared at him.

  “I lost my trunks today. I only have the dress I travelled in and it is filthy. I set it aside for washing,” Hattie explained.

  “If you were not so high and mighty you would still have your trunks! You must dress for dinner,” she said urgently, though making a clear effort to control her volume with the house full of guests. “Weston will expect you to be there, now, and I need you to even out the numbers,” she hissed.

  “I want no part of your fancy dinner or house party. Besides, I cannot go in my shift.” Hattie crossed her arms defiantly.

  “You ungrateful, unnatural girl!”

  Archie growled, responding to her tone of voice, and Louisa jumped back.

  “Control the damn bird or I will have him put in the dovecote!”

  Hattie gasped at such vulgar language, and in particular from a lady. How dare she threaten poor Archie! She would find another situation in which to live as soon as she could speak with Richard.

  “I will send my maid in with a gown. Do not make me also send Richard to speak some sense into you! He has enough to worry about with attending to his guests, as it is. We will be in the drawing room.”

  Hattie could tell it took a further effort for Louisa not to slam the door. She paced across the pink carpet, fretting as she awaited the maid and grumbling to herself, “I will go to dinner for my brother’s sake, not Jezebel’s—but I will not like it one bit, Archie.”

  The maid knocked before entering and stepped cautiously into the room while eyeing the bird with considerable suspicion. She held a gown of deep lavender and Hattie narrowed her eyes. Louisa knew she was still in mourning!

  “This color will suit you, if I may say so, miss. My name is Sally.”

  “I cannot wear it. My mother has not been in the grave but six months.”

  “My mistress said you would object, but she says this is a small house party and it is all she has that will fit you. Lavender is still respectful to your mother, miss.”

  “If I do not wear it, she will send Richard up here and I do not wish to disturb my brother.” Hattie held out her arms in resignation. No one would look at the old spinster, anyway.

  The maid slipped the gown over Hattie's head and began to tie the laces up the back. Hattie scarcely wore anything fitted enough to require a maid’s assistance. She looked down and saw her chest bulging over the top like a pair of pillows.

  “I-I am indecent!” she cried.

  Sally walked in front of her and looked. “Oh, no, miss. Your neckline is much higher than those of the other ladies. The color does suit you quite well. Sit down and I will dress your hair.”

  Hattie was not reassured at all as the maid led her to the dressing table before she could muster any more objections. She would try and find a shawl to cover herself before she went to the drawing room. The maid was brushing and twisting, and Hattie could not tell what was happening to her mousy locks, as her mother was wont to call them. Usually she kept them under a cap or bonnet.

  “There you go, miss. Now we had best get you downstairs so my mistress won’t be fretting,” the maid said, placing slippers on Hattie's feet and ushering her out of the door. What she would not give to have her spectacles fixed! She could scarcely see five feet in front of her and was tempted to touch her coiffure to see what kind of exhibition she made from behind. It certainly felt as though she was exposed from her uncovered head to her indecent gown.

  Sally escorted her down to the drawing room and Hattie could have sworn she was given a slight push through the door before it closed behind her. Feeling dizzy as she tried to focus on the room full of strangers, she began to sidle towards the far corner.

  “Miss Longbottom.” Lord Bergen’s teasing voice spoke suddenly beside her and then he was taking
her arm.

  “My lord?” Hattie tried not to sound cold.

  “You look…enchanting. Where is my dear friend, Archie?” He pretended to look about the room for him.

  Louisa tittered as she glided up to join them. “Archie?”

  “The popinjay. We are old acquaintances,” he explained smoothly, sipping his drink.

  “Are you indeed? How delightful,” she cooed.

  “Perhaps he can visit us after supper. Bentley, I was unaware you had a sister,” Bergen remarked as he turned to Richard.

  “Hattie has a different father. Our mother remarried when I was already away at school.”

  “And where did you acquire the delightful Archie, if I may be so bold?” Bergen asked, still that hint of mockery in his voice.

  “He was a gift from my late father. He sometimes traveled to exotic lands,” Hattie replied.

  A stunning lady, dressed in a form-fitting dark green silk gown, moved closer to where they were. Hattie felt awkward and frumpy next to her.

  “I beg your pardon... what is this? I heard exotic,” she said with a low, husky voice.

  “Lady Pennywaite, may I present my sister, Harriet Longbottom?” Bentley chimed in.

  “How do you do?” Hattie said politely, suddenly feeling self-conscious next to this beautiful woman.

  “I want to see this exotic creature!” Lady Pennywaite demanded.

  “I am sure my sister will be happy to bring him down after dinner,” Richard suggested as Hattie could see Louisa’s jaw clench.

  “The bird has to eat, too, does he not? Byron allows his bird to run tame and there are several at Chatsworth. One bird cannot do any harm,” the woman said dismissively, clearly used to having her way.

  “Hattie, would you mind bringing Archie to join us?” her brother asked.

  “Shall we also set a place for him?” Louisa snapped, but Hattie took no notice and went to fetch the bird.

  Praying that Archie would behave, Hattie reminded him to use good manners the entire way back to the drawing room. He made a purring sound in her ear as though he were listening, but the moment they walked through the drawing room doors, he screeched:

  “Bugger! Whoremongers! Jezebel!”

  “This gives the term popinjay a whole new meaning,” Bergen drawled.

  Chapter 4

  Edward spotted Hampton returning from the balcony alone. Finally, a chance to speak with him, he thought. Just as he was approaching the man, dinner was announced and Hampton went straight to Lady Pennywaite, probably determined not to give Lord Purdy an opportunity to escort the young woman in to dinner. Damn! I shall have to wait and he is avoiding me. Knowing it would be a while before wine was served, Edward exchanged his empty glass for a full one. This was not going at all as he had hoped. He watched while several peers began escorting various ladies of obvious rank towards the dining room and noticed Miss Longbottom arrive, carrying Archie on her shoulder. This should be interesting. He permitted himself a wry smile.

  He then noticed Lady Bentley immediately approaching her sister and the bird, so he stepped back out of sight but stayed within earshot, concerned for Miss Longbottom. He didn’t care for the snippy antics of Lady Louisa Bentley.

  “That is much better. I can see my old dress is a definite improvement, and provides the illusion of attributes. Perhaps I can find more gowns you can use. Yes, very good. I expect you to ensure that bird—” She narrowed her eyes, looking at Archie sitting on Hattie’s shoulder. “—behaves in a proper manner throughout the evening.” On those words, she tossed her head back in a spiteful manner and walked in the direction of a group of ladies, across the room.

  He recalled the gaudy bright red oriental wallpaper and dark furnishings from his earlier visit. I still hate it.

  Edward was angry. He could not account for his defense of this woman, but her sister-in-law was a mean, spiteful biddy, and for some reason it infuriated him. He stepped in front of Louisa as she neared him, forestalling her. Smiling broadly, he extolled the virtues of her grand event.

  “Lady Bentley, you have certainly outdone yourself with this party. I have noticed that your well-appointed affair has garnered not only most of the eligible men of the ton, but also many from the upper echelons of the peerage.”

  “Thank you, my lord. We are thrilled to have you join us,” she cooed.

  “My compliments,” he responded with an ironic bow, knowing she would not recognize it as such. “Since my own rank is not your highest at the party, I have decided to escort Miss Longbottom in to dinner, Lady Eldon having withdrawn her attendance due to an inconvenient bout of influenza.” A look of anger crossed her face, although it was quickly changed to one of serenity. He carefully kept his expression one of sincere appreciation.

  “Of course, my lord. I was only now preparing to ask for your indulgence in escorting my dearest sister,” she simpered, a smile firmly in place.

  “I will be delighted to escort her.” Without further exchange, he left to find Miss Longbottom and her feathered companion.

  On finding that young lady, he approached her with his arm extended. “I would be honored if you would allow me to take you in to dinner, Miss Longbottom.” He wanted to tell her she looked lovely; for she did. Her hair was softly curled, and the lavender dress complimented her color and her figure. The dress was much more fashionable, even if it appeared a little large.

  “Thank you, my lord,” she replied tentatively.

  “I had quite forgotten that Archie would be joining us.” He smiled at the bird. “Good evening Archie, I am so glad you could join us for dinner.”

  “Evening! Join dinner!” the bird cried out. Then he began nodding his head.

  “Miss Longbottom, is Archie quite well? He appears to be behaving somewhat oddly this evening. He seems to be nodding in my direction. Could it signify anything?”

  She looked up at him and smiled. He was taken back by the simple beauty he had not previously noticed. It was without any pretense and it caught him off guard.

  “My lord, he does that when he likes someone. He is trying to let me know he approves of you.”

  “Well, that is something, indeed. He does seem... less... fractious.” Edward could not imagine what had made the bird suddenly like him, and found it strange a bird could or would seek approval. It was intriguing—but then, he found practically everything about Archie amusing.

  “Good evening to you both. Well, old friend, I see you have cornered our lovely Miss Longbottom.” Bergen appeared from somewhere behind them.

  “I have. Lady Bentley made a point of discussing the evenness of her guest list.” Edward chuckled. “Indeed, I think the young lady on the settee requires an escort.” Nodding towards the petite brunette, he urged Bergen to attend upon her. He enjoyed his friend, but tonight he was not in the mood for Bergen’s gibes towards Miss Longbottom. He could not understand the protectiveness he felt, and had no desire to discuss it. What he was in the mood for was a fresh drink. He glanced around and spotting a footman with wine, signaled to him.

  “I believe that the furnishings have not changed since I was here years ago.” Edward could not regard the red Oriental paper, and the matching Aubusson carpet under the table, without wincing. He hoped that Bentley’s circumstances had improved, recalling a visit he had made here with his parents a little above five years before. His mother had been very ungracious about the badly watered-down beverages, including the dinner wine. So far, if the brandy from this afternoon was any indication, Bentley’s stock had improved substantially. He sipped his claret and relaxed. He recalled the exchange between Bentley and his wife this afternoon, when Miss Longbottom arrived. Their relationship was not unlike the cold and pretentious example set by his own parents.

  Archie flapped his wings and brought him out of his reverie. “Ahem. I believe that Archie’s seat is over there.” Edward pointed to a high flower stand, set up behind a chair for the popinjay. A space had actually been cleared at the table for the bir
d. He fought the urge to laugh. “Let me see...ah yes, your seat is next to Archie, and mine is…on the other side of Archie.” He spotted Hampton, seated across from them. Lady Pennywaite was sitting between Hampton and Purdy. Someone has a strange sense of humor. He fought an urge to glare at the man. Bergen had taken the chair on Miss Longbottom’s right. The episode with her sister-in-law earlier had been very unsettling for the young woman, and he hoped to shield her from further upset—and that protective feeling, in itself, he found most disconcerting. Glancing down the table, he observed Lady Bentley, sitting at the south end of the table. The shrew's ire over Archie’s presence was unmistakable; no one could miss her clenched jaw. Edward was glad that the woman was away from her sister-by-marriage. This could be a long…interesting…evening, he mused, avoiding catching Bergen's eye. He knew only too well where that would lead.

  Dinner progressed slowly through the first few courses, but without incident. It seemed boring without the bird’s shockingly delightful antics. Turning to address a comment to Miss Longbottom, he glimpsed Archie on his perch and noticed that the popinjay was staring back at him. The hairs on the back of his neck prickled.

  Archie must have felt generous, because he began taking his food and fluttering down to place it on Edward’s plate. The bird’s feed mixture was now in his potato concoction, and Archie was fawning in an obscene manner along his arm, clawing it gently.

  “My Lord! Mine!” he called as he stroked Edward’s arm with his beak. Everyone in the room laughed and guffawed.

  “Remove that bird at once!” Lady Bentley stood up and banged on her glass.

  “Jezebel! Termagant!” Archie shrieked his message as he flapped his wings, green feathers flying. “Devil woman!” His cries were barely heard above the howls of laughter.

  “Archie, please stop.” Miss Longbottom worked feverishly snapping her fingers, trying to urge her bird back onto her shoulder.

  “My lord, I apologize. I have no idea what has Archie so stirred up. He is being so naughty. I assure you, he is not usually so.”