Earl of Weston_Wicked Regency Romance Page 6

  Bergen merely nodded.

  “My friend,” Edward remarked with a smile, “you are showing more signs of fatigue than I, and I am the one caught in the wrong room.”

  “Yes, about that. I am still curious about that...” Bergen shot his friend a mischievous look. “Snake?”

  Edward could not help but laugh. “Yes, well my...snake...had a pleasant reaction to the warmth coming from the other side of the bed.” He forced a lascivious smirk. It was curious, yet the memory lacked such humor. “How was I to know she was in the room? It was dark.” He thought for moment, recalling the moment of realization that he was sharing her bed, and shuddered.

  “By Jove, the whole house collected in the hallway to see our misery; and Lady Louisa…decent words fail me. Now that you mention it, I did not see you. Where, my friend, were you?” He sneered to emphasize the veiled jibe. “Did you know she tried to kill the…snake? She used a pillow to...batter me.”

  Bergen nearly choked. Then he roared with laughter. “I was sleeping.”

  “Yes, I gathered that. Let me try to guess where.” He looked up sharply into his friend’s cheery face. “No! Tell me you did not, Bergen!” Edward was incredulous. “The lady practically caused a duel with Hampton and Purdy over dinner...and you just swooped in for the night? Do you believe she will stay silent?”

  “Yes. That she will.”

  “Oh. I see. It was not the first time.” He snorted. “Well, she is a widow, at least, so Society will look the other way. It is not so with Hattie.”

  “I think you will suit,” Bergen offered.

  “Maybe. It does not matter; however; I do find I hold a fascination for her—if not with that molting, obnoxious bird.”

  “You are still put out that he flirted with you at dinner.” Bergen snorted rudely and spurred his horse.

  Edward also urged his horse faster. He was not about to allow Bergen to have the final word on the subject. He would never hear the end of it—and he still needed to ask him that favor. Some yards further on, he pulled up alongside his friend.

  “You misinterpreted Archie’s behavior, Bergen. Very well. Let’s say it was a little embarrassing. And were you not also discomfited over his adoration?” Edward snorted. “That brings me to a favor I need to ask of you. I have noticed the camaraderie that you and Archie share.”

  “Absolutely not! Weston, I do not need a bird. And if I did, I would not want that bird—even though he does provide abundant entertainment.” He gestured wildly, mocking the parrot’s actions.

  Edward gave a wolfish grin and watched his friend squirm for a moment or two.

  “Not permanently, Bergen.” He laughed. “Just for the first week or so. I am not able to...carry through...if you get my meaning.”

  Bergen raised his eyes heavenwards and spurred his horse faster without answering.

  “So, is that a yes?” He urged his own mount on and the two men picked up speed for London.

  The meeting with the archbishop could not have gone better. He had the special license safety tucked into his pocket. There were a few more matters he wanted to attend to before his return journey. Edward rode into Ludgate Hill and stopped at Rundell & Bridge. He had decided to forego the usual signet ring that most exchanged and find something a little more suitable—perhaps something that showed off her eyes, a feature he found he really liked.

  The bell jingled, announcing his visit. A bespectacled, aged gentleman with greying hair looked up from a microscope and welcomed him. They had met many times before.

  “Lord Weston. How nice to see you, my lord! What can I do for you today?”

  “Mr. Benton, thank you. I have an errand which brings me here today.”

  “I can tell from your smile that this must be a special lady.”

  Smile? Am I smiling? He had not realized that he had been smiling. He had to admit that the longer he had had to think about it, the more he was looking forward to this marriage.

  “Yes, I am to be married, and I have need of a ring,” he informed the goldsmith. Robert had bequeathed to him his signet ring, but Edward wanted to keep that. It was not suitable for a lady, anyway. Edward scanned the cases, his gaze stopping on a display of sapphire rings. “Ah! Right here. I think sapphires would become her.”

  “It is an excellent choice for a ring, my lord. Sapphires symbolize wisdom, virtue, sincerity, faithfulness, and good fortune. It is a beautiful stone. What do you think of this one?” Pulling out a slender, rose gold band with diamond and sapphire baguettes, he held it up to Edward. “It is a vibrant blue. What is your opinion, sir?”

  “It is simple and beautiful, and as you say, there is a vibrancy to it. I shall take it. Do you have a necklace and earrings to match with it?” The sapphires reminded him of Hattie’s eyes. Of a certainty, sapphires would suit her. She was the most forthright person he had met in a long time, so a stone symbolizing sincerity went well with her character. How strange, he mused, thinking of her gave him this odd feeling, almost a longing. “That is silly. I barely know her,” he chastised himself, aloud.

  “I beg your pardon, my lord?” The old man looked up from the case of jewelry.

  “Forgive me. I have ridden all day and was just reflecting on what I wanted to achieve. I did not realize I spoke the thought. I would like the matching earrings and necklace, too.”

  “Yes, my lord. Shall I put these purchases on your account and wrap them for you?” The jeweler hastened to begin wrapping the jewelry.

  “Yes, thank you. No, wait, please.” He spotted eyeglasses in a corner case. “Mr. Benton, would you assist me with a pair of these spectacles?”

  “As you wish, my lord.” He selected a pair of oval lady’s spectacles with rose gold rims and held them up for Edward’s scrutiny. “Do these meet with your approval, my lord?”

  Edward took the glasses and held them up. Things looked fuzzy to him. “I cannot be sure. Are things always fuzzy?”

  “I am told that for those who cannot see far away, these help, my lord.”

  He pictured Hattie with her squint, and suddenly realized how difficult it was for her. If these glasses would help her, it could make life easier. She probably could not see anything past the nose on her face. How strenuous that must be, he thought. And I doubt she ever complains. “Yes, I think those will do.” He imagined Hattie’s face when he gave her the glasses and grinned. “These will do nicely. Thank you, Mr. Benton.”

  Hurrying with his purchases, he realized he was to meet Bergen at the club shortly. Thank goodness Bergen had agreed to watch Archie for a few days. He started with a couple of weeks, and finally got what he needed—four nights without the popinjay. Hattie would probably object. But he couldn’t spend the first nights of his marriage watched by a shrieking bird.

  Hattie was not about to leave her room. Humiliation did not begin to describe her feelings and she did not want everyone staring at her. She could not keep them from gossiping, however. The only improper thing she had done was to be in the wrong room at the wrong time! Well, perhaps she had participated a little in her dream but she had not done it consciously!

  Lord Weston—Edward—had left for London early. She had not slept and had heard him ride away. From the clatter of hooves, it had sounded as though he must have taken Lord Bergen with him, so her only remaining ally would be Richard. That was not enough to convince her to face the approbation.

  There was a soft knock on her door. She ignored it; she had no intention of answering. Jezebel would march into the room whether she was welcome or not.

  “Hattie?” her brother inquired as he looked around the door.

  “Richard. Come in.” If she had to talk to someone, she would rather it be him.

  “May we speak about last night? Weston explained what happened and it is most unfortunate. How are you faring?” he asked kindly.

  “Well enough.” Her voice cracked and she swallowed as she sat stroking Archie’s head.

  “He is an honorable man, Hattie. I should
have warned you to lock your door. House parties are often known for their night-time liaisons, and people often drink more than is wise.”

  Hattie looked up in shock at her brother, who shrugged.

  “It is the way of the world, Hattie. I wish I had taken you from mother much sooner. She could have lived here and you could have had your proper entry into Society. Instead, you have been sheltered and are as naïve as a girl still in the school room.”

  “I most certainly am not! Reverend Hastings warned me about the pleasures of the flesh. I choose to live a pure and devout life.”

  “It was not my intention to imply you could not be either. Nevertheless, as Weston's wife, you will have certain obligations as a hostess. He has been very generous towards you. He must have stayed awake and written up the settlements for you. He said he would have his solicitor draw up the formal agreement while he is in Town.”

  Hattie did not know what to say.

  “I only hope, dear sister, that you will give him a chance to make a proper marriage and not hide away in the country. His brother was killed less than a year ago in suspicious circumstances. He was never intended to be the Earl and is having a rather difficult time of it. I know you are capable of being a good wife to him.”

  “Must I host parties such as this, where people drink too much and share each other's beds?”

  Richard sighed loudly. “I cannot say what your husband will choose to do, Hattie. Not everyone is so fortunate in their marriage as your mother and father were. Many of our class are forced to marry to support our estates.”

  “And so seek pleasures elsewhere?” she asked, knowing she must be wide-eyed with shock.

  “I am afraid it is so. It would be best to disguise your astonishment.”

  “I want to be a good wife,” she said meekly, while rubbing Archie from his head down his tail.

  “I knew you would. Shall I take you into Oxford today, to find you a gown for your wedding? Louisa has agreed to lend Sally to you.”

  Hattie could only imagine Louisa “agreeing.”

  “Thank you, Richard. I confess, I would appreciate having some of my own clothing.”

  “I will be downstairs with the carriage when you are ready, then.”

  Richard left and Sally entered soon after to help her to dress. She was holding Hattie's freshly washed, crêpe day gown.

  “I hope you do not mind accompanying me. I do need your assistance. My brother says I need to make an effort to be a good wife to Weston, but I have no notion of how to go on; about what might be fashionable.”

  “I have been to London many times with Lady Bentley. It is my duty to know the latest mode.” She helped Hattie out of her night-rail and slipped her day dress over her head. “First, we will find something which fits you. No more cast-off dresses for you, miss. We could fit two of you in here.” She tightened the laces, but it was still like a sackcloth on her.

  “It seemed wasteful to ruin my own clothes with black dye for mourning. Now they are lost to me.” She sat at the dressing table and allowed Sally to dress her hair. Everything was still blurred without her glasses and she squinted hard to see what the maid was doing. Her hair had never looked pretty before—she had always worn a severe plait under a cap.

  “One more thing, miss... you cannot squint like that. Forgive my saying so, but it is not the most flattering pose.”

  Hattie leaned forward to peer into the looking-glass and sat back with an exclamation when she saw how her nose wrinkled and her lip curled upward.

  “Oh! How dreadful!”

  The maid nodded. “Let us be going, then. We have much to do.”

  “Be a good boy, Archie,” Hattie called as they left.

  “Good boy! Good boy!” he said, bobbing his head up and down.

  .

  Chapter 6

  Edward dreaded his next meeting. His mother was not his favorite companion. She would be difficult, at best. “Hilton, is my mother at home?” He stood at the opened threshold of his family’s town residence, hesitating before entering the house.

  “May I take your coat and hat, my lord?”

  He allowed the servant to relieve him of the heavy outerwear. The aging butler hung up the coat and then nodded at Edward.

  “She is in her parlor, my lord.”

  “Thank you.” Edward took a fortifying breath and made his way to his mother’s sitting room and knocked. “Mother?” He opened the door and walked in.

  “Oh, Edward. You decided to visit. How nice.” His mother looked up from her book. “I had heard you had gone to Eynsham, not that you ever tell me what you are about.” She shot him an austere look and went back to reading.

  “Mother, I have important news and a request.” Edward fought his impatience and kept his outer composure, while his insides churned.

  “You have a request? Do go on.” She remained focused on the open pages in front of her.

  Edward lost patience. She could read ‘Othello’ when he left. He walked over to his mother and pulled her volume closed.

  “How dare you? What do you think you are doing, Edward? I did not bring you up to be rude.” She snatched her tome back and opened it.

  “You did not bring me up to be anything, Mother. You did not bring me up at all. However, let us not worry ourselves with such details. I am getting married. I came to tell you.” He hated to be so brusque with his mother, but she vexed him.

  The book fell away and his mother stood up, a stunned look on her face. “May I ask who the young woman is? I feel sure you have mismanaged the whole affair and I will not have the Weston line sullied by any fortune-hunter who has set her cap at you, Edward.” She screwed her face into an expression of distaste.

  “Mother, whom I marry has little to do with your opinion.” He bit his tongue and stopped before he threatened to move her to the Dowager cottage on the country estate.

  She moved to the window and stood, staring outside, her arms crossed. Outside, the gardener was pruning the shrubs. The sound of his clippers could be heard above the silence in the room. “Must we argue, Edward? Your actions mock me at every turn. I have tried to do what is right for the family. It was you who failed us. I lost a son because of you. You should have been home to help him, but no! You were gallivanting in Paris, doing goodness knows what—gambling? Whoring, perhaps? Your behaviour was disgraceful. That is how, in my eyes, you compare to your brother. It should have been you.”

  Her icy words pummeled him, one by one. That his mother would even speak of such activities surprised him. But that was always part of her attack—to throw her opponent off and swoop in for the kill. Edward was determined not to let her gain control of this discussion. He felt his temper rising, and struggled to control it. While he understood that part of this was her grief speaking, a large amount was through an inner ugliness she reserved for his benefit. He could not remember when she had been nice to him, or praised him for anything. She had saved all of that for Robert. He was not jealous of his brother. He missed him and he loved him. Just once, I wish Mother could show me some level of warmth. It would never happen.

  “Mother... I, too, think about Robert all the time. But the fact of the matter is he is gone and I am here. He called the duel, and lost it. You have one son now, and I am he. I am sorry you are disappointed, but be that as it may, I am taking a wife and you will treat her with the respect due to a countess. And...” He paused, taking a deep breath. “And you will meet her at the wedding, which is in two days. I bid you to have your trunk packed. I will return for you tomorrow.” He bowed and turned to leave.

  “You have not mentioned who she is.” Her words stopped him, her voice almost a whisper.

  “Her name is Harriet Longbottom—Hattie, Lord Bentley’s sister. We are to be married at her brother’s country estate.”

  “This cannot be happening!” His mother’s face twisted in anger. “Lord Bentley’s half-sister? How could you do that to this family! She is hardly deserving to kiss your family ring. Edwa
rd, you must reconsider. There are several diamonds of the first water on the market...”

  “Enough! Mother, I do not wish to argue with you. Nor is it my wish to disappoint you. However, who I choose to marry is not your concern.”

  “I see. You were foxed and compromised her. I cannot believe you could have been interested in any relation of Louisa Bentley... and do not bother to lie to me. I can tell by your expression that you did just that. Consider your name and position…”

  “Mother, the decision as to whom I wed is mine.” He spoke slowly and deliberately. Well, maybe not completely in this case. How did she know how to get under his skin? Of course, she was right about what had happened and that added to his irritation. He fought for control of his words. “Hattie and I are betrothed. Furthermore, Mother, if you cannot be respectful and treat her with the kindness she deserves, we will not visit. You will live here in your town house, or in the Dower House in Hampshire. Do I make myself clear?”

  They stared at each, until she looked away. “Very well,” she muttered, looking away. “I will be ready. And,” she sighed, “I will be...cordial to your bride. I know my duty.” She pasted a cold smile on her face and spoke in a subdued tone.

  He did not miss her derisive smile or her false tone. He expected it. This was her typical response to any request he made. However, he chose not to take the bait. “Mother, it has been interesting, as always.” He placed a kiss on her cheek, and noticed she did not react. “I think you will like her, if you will give her a chance.” Even he did not believe what he had just said. “My carriage will be here at seven o’clock on the morrow to pick you up. Please be ready.”

  “I will.” Her tone remained derisive.

  “Good.”

  “Before you make your grand exit, Edward, I found something in your brother’s effects that I thought you might be able to clear up for me.” She leafed through to the back of her book and withdrew a folded piece of vellum. “Here!” She shoved the note in his hands. “Maybe you can make sense of it.”