Saving a Scoundrel, page 2
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Lucius Grisham patted his horse’s neck and turned to his brother-in-law, Daniel. “Thanks, Weston. A good hard ride was just what I needed. Perhaps there is something to all your blather about fresh country air.”
Daniel chuckled and dismounted. “We are glad to have you. Charlotte complains that she never sees you. We will have to remedy that when we arrive in London at the end of the month. Where are you staying these days?”
Lucius dismounted and turned away from his friend to grab his horse’s lead. “With friends.” He shrugged. Better to be vague than to admit where he actually lived.
He and Daniel led their horses into the barn, where a stable hand came to take the animals. “I will meet you inside. I need to speak to Mr. Lincoln. Afterward, we can have a drink in my study.”
Lucius gave a small salute with his hand and walked out of the stable. Weston’s property was a pretty piece of land. Both Daniel and Charlotte had an interest in horticulture, and it showed in the beauty of their gardens. Lucius took off his hat and ran a hand through his hair. The breeze cooled the sweat on his brow. It did feel good to get out of London. The last few days, he had been able to relax and not have to rush from one thing to the next. He didn’t have to pretend to be anyone but himself when he was with his sister, a nice break from his usual life.
He strode through an arch covered in vines and into an area where neat rows of flower beds held the beginning signs of spring. Green leaves unfurled but no flowers yet.
“I deserve more…” a feminine voice rang out.
Lucius swiveled. To his right, Eleanor Spencer paced back and forth across the grass only twenty feet from him. Like the last time he saw her, she was agitated, her hands punctuating whatever conversation she was having with herself. He watched her for a moment. Her gray-striped cotton skirts swished back and forth as she paced. The straw bonnet shaded her face so he couldn’t see her expression, but she was in high dudgeon based on her body language.
“Ahem.” He coughed to catch her attention.
She came to a halt abruptly; her eyes widening when she spotted him. “Lucius? What are you doing here?”
“Visiting my sister. I would think that would be obvious.”
“Oh yes, of course.” She glanced down at the ground. “Charlotte didn’t mention that you were visiting.” Her gaze darted to the house before returning to the ground.
He hadn’t seen Eleanor since Henry’s funeral and the kiss they shared that afternoon. Lucius had chalked up the surprising gesture to the high emotions she must have been feeling that day. Clearly, she felt embarrassed by the incident, so he fixed a smile on his face as he walked toward her.
“What has you upset today?” he asked.
“What makes you think I’m upset?” she retorted but still she wouldn’t meet his gaze.
“Eleanor, you were just pacing and talking to yourself.” Her cheeks turned pink at his observation. “Can I help?”
She tilted her head up, and for the first time, he could see her eyes. The emotion swirling in them deepened the violet hue. She caught her bottom lip, pink and plump, between her teeth. His thoughts flew to the frozen graveyard when she had reached up and sweetly pressed her mouth against his.
Each brush of her lips had sent his senses spiraling. What a surprise it had been to find underneath those dowdy ill-fitting clothes were ample curves that fit just right against him. And that sharp tongue of hers had been soft and sweet as it explored his mouth. Kissing Ellie had been like sliding into a hot bath; the shock of the heat was so pleasurable you never wanted to emerge.
She had looked up at him with luminous doe eyes swirling with desire, and he’d wanted to kiss her all over again. But reality had blown through with the cold December wind. She was his sister’s best friend, the goddamn vicar’s daughter, and he was a rogue with not a farthing to his name except what was gifted by his lovers. Eleanor Spencer was far too good to be kissing the likes of him.
“Help?” She shook her head. “No, I have to help myself.” She paced away. “I just need to find the courage.”
He followed her. “What do you mean? What’s going on?”
She swung around to face him. “What’s going on is Mr. Evans. That is my father wants me to marry Mr. Evans. Wouldn’t it be perfect, he said.”
“Who is Mr. Evans?”
“My father’s new curate. He just moved to Marbury a month ago.”
“I take it you don’t want to marry Mr. Evans?” Lucius asked cautiously. He knew enough about women to see the signs of a temper about to blow.
“No!” Her shout echoed across the quiet garden. She seemed to deflate after the sharp extort. Her shoulders slumped, and she let out a long sigh. “I just want to do something, anything, before I settle down to take care of some man and a passel of children.”
Lucius’s lips quirked. He’d never seen Ellie be so dramatic. This was usually Susanna’s territory. “A passel of children?”
Ellie’s eyes narrowed. Uh oh. She pointed one finger at him. “This is all your fault.”
“What?”
But Ellie wasn’t listening to him. Instead, she paced away, muttering. “If only…how would he know. But if he just saw…” Then she turned and stalked to him, her expression inscrutable.
Stopping inches from him, they stood toe-to-toe. Her cheeks were flushed, and her chest rose and fell at a rapid rhythm. His breath hitched at the look in her eye. The same look she’d had in the graveyard, right before she kissed him. “Ellie,” he said softly as he took a step back.
She froze for a moment, then blinked those long eyelashes. “Uh, yes. Sorry. I didn’t mean to yell at you. Not your problem, of course.” She looked back over her shoulder at the house. “I must get back inside; they’ll wonder what’s happened to me.” Then Ellie turned on her heel and hurried away.
Ellie was getting married. He didn’t know why the thought of her married to some random bloke sat so heavy in his gut. Maybe it was because she didn’t wish it. But, same as his sister last year, she didn’t appear to have much choice in the matter. He put his hat back on and slowly headed for the house. He would have to interrogate Charlotte at dinner tonight and find out what exactly this Mr. Evans was like.
Chapter Two
Ellie shifted her heavy shopping basket to the other hand. It had been a successful trip to the bookshop, but her father would certainly chuckle and say perhaps she had chosen too many books. Finally, her home in sight, Ellie picked up her pace. The simple two-story manor house had whitewashed walls and green-painted lattice ladders that supported the roses in the summer months. The barn-wood door and shutters added rustic charm and a low stone wall circled the house and a pretty garden.
Usually, this time of year, she would see her father out in the garden preparing the flower beds for spring. His greatest joy was helping things grow, whether it was his beloved flowers or the souls of his parishioners. Her father had been the vicar for Little Marbury for twenty years. The Earl of Dearborn provided his living.
But today, Ellie spotted a barouche waiting in the lane. The coachman wore Dearborn livery. She didn’t have plans with Susanna today. What was going on? Ellie came through the wooden gate into the yard and spotted her friend Susanna standing next to her father’s study window. Ellie sat her basket of books down on the bench by the front door. “Susanna, what are you doing skulking around Father’s window?”
Susanna’s spun around. “Shhh!” She hurried over. “Oh, it’s so exciting.” Then Susanna tugged Ellie farther into the garden away from the house.
“What’s so exciting?” Ellie asked.
“My mother is talking to your father.”
Lady Dearborn was paying her father a visit? “What about?”
“I had the most fabulous idea. I broached it to Father last night at dinner, and he and Mother both agreed! I’m just sorry it didn’t occur to me sooner.”
Ellie huffed. “Susanna, for goodness’ sake, what are you talking about?”
Susanna reached for both of Ellie’s hands, gripping them tightly. “Mother is asking your father if you can be my new companion this season in London.” She bounced up and down on her toes. “Wouldn’t it be wonderful? You would finally get to come to town!”
“What?” The whole world tilted on its axis. She blinked a couple of times to clear the sensation. Her heart beat wildly. London? “Father will never say yes. What about Mr. Evans?”
“Nonsense. He doesn’t want you to marry Mr. Evans immediately, right? He only just suggested the idea. My mother will convince him that it would be a personal favor for her and Father. How can he say no?” She batted her eyelashes dramatically. “You know how much trouble I am.”
Ellie laughed at her friend’s pained tone. Susanna did not fit the mold of a regular debutante. She wasn’t demure, willing to make small talk about the weather, or particularly impressed by fancy clothes or jewelry. Her sharp wit often took people by surprise, and she had no patience for fools.
“But you know how he feels about town,” Ellie protested.
“My mother is not asking; she is requesting your presence as a companion. Because you are such a steady influence on me.” Her friend rolled her eyes. “Your father would not say no to a request from his favorite cousin.”
It was absurd to let Susanna’s excitement infect her. Her father would never let her go. Would he? Ellie plopped down onto a wrought-iron bench. Tulips and daffodils swayed in the breeze across from her. A trip to London would be her chance to experience something new before she had to settle down and be a wife and mother. But being part of the social season? Even as just as a companion. Terrifying. She shook her head and then raised her eyes to Susanna. “I don’t think it’s a good idea.”
Susanna sat next to her. A frown marred her otherwise beautiful face. “Eleanor Spencer, are you not the same woman who came to me not three months ago complaining you have never gone anywhere, done anything exciting? Were you not the woman in tears yesterday at the prospect of having to marry boring Mr. Evans?”
Ellie winced. Her friend was right. She meant this year to be the year she finally left this pokey old town and discovered the world, or at least more of it anyway.
“Don’t tell me that you don’t have a list of some sort detailing all the things you want to do this year. I know that going to London must be at the top.” She arched an eyebrow.
Susanna knew her too well. There was a list tucked away in her writing desk. Ellie straightened her shoulders; it was annoying to be so transparent. She thought of her list and how so many of the items required her to leave Marbury. She just needed to gather her courage.
She had kissed the man she loved, that had taken courage. Even if she had run away right after. That wintery night, back at home, she’d laid in bed reliving every moment of that kiss. The kiss she shared with Lucius had lit a fire in her. What else had she been too scared, too proper to consider doing? So she had taken out paper and made a list of all the things she wanted to do this year. All the things she longed to experience. Kissing Lucius Grisham again was number four on the list. Would he be in London this spring?
“Eleanor!” Susanna poked her. “This is your chance to choose your own husband. There will be scads of gentlemen in London to choose from.”
“All right, yes, there is a list. And going to London is at the top.” She gave her friend a swift hug. “Thank you for thinking of this scheme. I’m still not convinced my father will let me go, but I will be happy to accompany you to London if he agrees. Terrified but happy.”
“Don’t worry; we will have so much fun! Last year I was only in town a month before the incident with the horse race got me sent home.” She rolled her eyes. “But this year, I promise to be on my best behavior. We can visit all the sights and go to parties and dance and flirt.”
“And are you planning to pick out a husband from among the scads of gentlemen?” Ellie asked. Lord Dearborn was determined to have Susanna married off this year. At one and twenty, Susanna was the youngest member of the Miss M’s. While their friend Charlotte had several seasons in London before getting married last year, Susanna had only officially been out in society one year.
Susanna’s smile was mischievous. “Doubtful. Unless I meet someone dark and brooding—you know how I love it when they are wounded and brooding—someone who will steal me away onto his pirate ship and sail away to foreign parts.”
Ellie laughed. “Unlikely.” Susanna wasn’t looking for a husband; she was looking for a Gothic novel hero.
The front door opened, and Lady Dearborn’s voice carried across the yard. “Thank you so much, Pastor Spencer. I promise we will take excellent care of Eleanor.”
Ellie could see her father’s lips form a thin tight smile. “It will be my honor to help you in any way. I will speak to Eleanor this evening. Have a lovely afternoon, Lady Dearborn.”
Susanna gripped Ellie’s hand and let out a quiet squeal of delight. Lady Dearborn spotted them as she made her way down the stone walk. “Good afternoon, Eleanor. Go on up and speak with your father. He has news for you.” She smiled and winked at her. “Come along, Anna, let’s not press our luck.”
Susanna joined her mother and shot Ellie one last grin over her shoulder before following her mother out the gate to the waiting barouche.
Chapter Three
“Come inside, Eleanor. Let’s have a chat,” her father called out.
Ellie hurried to the front door to join her father. “Good afternoon, Father.”
He hefted her basket of books. “I see you spent all your pin money on books again.”
“It’s just a few. But the one is a substantial volume of French poetry. I also picked up our order of candles from Mrs. Williamson.”
“French poetry, hmmm. I may have to look through that first to ascertain if it’s appropriate reading for a young lady.” He set the basket down on one of the chairs in the sitting room.
Ellie looked down before her father could see the humor in her eyes. Although proficient in Latin, her father did not know an ounce of French. Ellie removed her shawl and hung it on the peg by the door. Her father settled into his favorite armchair, and she joined him, taking a seat on the settee. “Father, why was Lady Dearborn visiting?”
Edgar Spencer sighed. “That’s what I would like to speak to you about. You have been invited to accompany Lord and Lady Dearborn and their daughter to London this spring. They feel that you are a good influence on Susanna and, through your friendship, could encourage her to make sensible decisions this season.”
Eleanor placed a hand on her stomach. A bright sparkly ball of anticipation grew within her. “And what was your answer, Father?”
“Well, my cousin Lord Dearborn gave me this living when he inherited the title. He has been an excellent friend to me over the years, and I hate to refuse when asked a favor.” Her father leaned forward, resting his elbows on his knees. “What say you, Eleanor? Do you wish to go?”
“I do.” She clasped her hands together in her lap. She had to be honest with her father. “But I must admit I am also scared at the prospect.”
“Eleanor, I have kept you for myself for too long. After your mother passed from this Earth, I selfishly wanted to keep a piece of her close. And perhaps that is why I was so eager to match you with Mr. Evans. But as Lady Dearborn reminded me today, you should have the chance to explore your options for an advantageous match.” He leaned back in his chair. “You said you thought Mr. Evans a nice fellow but tell me, Eleanor, how do you feel about a future with him?”
She sucked in a deep breath. “Although it is true what I said, he does seem nice. However, I don’t feel any affection for Mr. Evans beyond perhaps friendship.”
“You mean affection like what you feel for that Grisham boy?” His clear blue eyes studied her.
Ellie felt her cheeks flame. “What? Lucius—I mean, Mr. Grisham is just Charlotte’s older brother. He’s not…I don’t harbor any…”
“It’s not that I don’t like the boy,” her father said softly, “but he will never settle down and be what you need, my dear. He has no purpose, no direction.”
Ellie stared down at her lap. She twisted a delicate gold ring round and around her middle finger. The simple pattern of intertwining leaves soothing and familiar. Why did she hold on so hard to things that are safe and familiar? She knew her father was right about Lucius. But there was a certain amount of safety in loving someone who you knew was unattainable. She thought about her list of adventures and specifically about number four—kiss Lucius Grisham again. Could she cross it off? An opportunity to take charge of her destiny was in front of her.
She raised her gaze to meet her father’s. “I would like to go to London. To support my friend, and maybe to have an adventure of my own.”
Her father frowned, and he ran a hand over his beard. “All right, I will allow it. But if you do not receive an offer of marriage while in London, I want you to marry Mr. Evans when you return this summer. You may be surprised at how affection can grow from the solid foundation of friendship.”
Her father had issued a reprieve, and Ellie felt as though she could breathe easily again. She had all spring to figure out what to do about Mr. Evans. She would find her adventure. The possibilities were numerous.
“Now, I want you to remember your upbringing. You are to be a good influence on Susanna, not let her be a poor influence on you. So keep a watchful eye out for rakish gentlemen, don’t dance with anyone more than once, don’t leave the ballroom unchaperoned, don’t drink alcohol if it’s offered to you, and don’t go to the theaterthe themes of those plays are not for young ladies.”
Eleanor nodded, keeping her expression neutral as her father continued to lecture about the possible evils of London society, but inside, the ball of anticipation in her belly continued to pop and fizz.
