Seducing the Marquess (Lords and Ladies in Love) Read online

  “Some of my friends had fathers of the same ilk, but I respected Father and allowed for his experience in life and sage advice, while my schoolmates decided to take the opposite path.”

  “You were ever the proper son?” Her eyes glowed with mirth.

  He grinned at her. “You make it sound as though there was something unpleasant about that.”

  “No. I would be quite pleased if a son of ours respected you the way you did your father. However, I would like to think he would not consider visits home to be inquisitions.”

  She drew small circles on the counterpane with one slender fingertip. “Our upbringings were not dissimilar. My mother was somewhat like that.” Eugenia paused. “Not with the inquisitions, of course, since I was never out of her sight, so there was very little to inquire about. Well, that’s not actually true, since I spent a great deal of time with my governess and tutors. But she oversaw everything and made sure I was learning my lessons on how to be a proper lady.” She ducked her head and lowered her voice. “A few of her lessons were imparted with some vigor, I am afraid.”

  The conversation had certainly gone in a direction to dim his desire for the lovely, warm woman at his side. Thinking of his father, and the years of admonishment about his role as a proper and respectful husband, had certainly cooled his ardor.

  “So here we are—a proper husband and a proper wife.”

  The muscles in his stomach clenched at the sudden flush of red on Eugenia’s cheeks. All the anxiety and questions about the change in her behavior being due to a lover washed over him like a rain-swollen creek. Although everything inside him screamed his Eugenia would not do that, he was hard-pressed to consider any other explanation for her change in dress and behavior. On the other hand, perhaps her brother was correct, and Eugenia was merely coming into herself after being out from under her mother’s strictures.

  Clinging to that thought, but still torn, he sighed, all the warmth and tenderness he’d been feeling swept away. “I will leave you now, my dear. I fear I have imposed upon your rest.” Before he could rethink his intentions, he slid from the bed, helped her to lie flat, kissed her on the forehead, and left the room, softly closing the door between them.

  …

  What had happened? Eugenia stared at the space Devon had occupied until a few seconds ago. They’d been having quite a pleasant conversation, then he’d called a halt and abruptly left. She sighed and closed her eyes. She touched the space he had vacated and already felt his absence, the coolness of the sheet.

  His words floated through her mind. No doubt it had been his father who had imposed the idea on Devon that a wife was to be held in high regard and little else. Affection, certainly, seeing to her comfort, of course, respect, definitely, but nothing as messy as love or passion.

  Nor had she questioned it until she’d read her book. Too tired to climb out of bed and flip through a few pages, she settled into a more comfortable position, and was soon fast asleep.

  …

  Two weeks later, Eugenia and Devon climbed out of their carriage after arriving at Lord Barrymore’s hunting party. Her shoulder still ached from time to time, but for the most part, the worst of the pain was gone. Because she’d spent so much time in bed and then wandering around the house, unable to do more than stroll in the garden, she had insisted she was well enough to travel, even though Devon had vigorously disputed it.

  Although he generally rode horseback to these events, the steady drizzle had driven him inside for the entire trip. They’d passed the time in pleasant—if innocuous—conversation about the weather, recent ton gossip, and who would be present at the party.

  Lord Barrymore and his spinster sister, Lady Agnes, greeted them as soon as they entered the home. “We are so pleased you were able to make it, my lady, my lord.” Lady Agnes offered a gracious curtsy. Lord Barrymore took Eugenia’s hand and bowed over it. “I hope your journey was not too tiresome.”

  “Not at all,” Eugenia said, walking alongside the couple toward the staircase.

  She took in her surroundings, never having been a guest at this estate before. Barrymore had been married for a brief time in his youth. He had never sired any children, and once Lady Barrymore had been laid to rest, he’d announced to all and sundry that his one go at marriage had been sufficient for him.

  He’d named his young cousin as his heir, moved his sister into his home, and continued with the life he found fulfilling for him.

  Given the décor, it was obvious he’d given his sister rein to run the household. Either that or Lady Barrymore’s brief role as mistress of the house had been carried forward. The watered silk wall coverings had been selected with care and a feminine eye. The floors and woodwork gleamed with polish, the carpets’ dust beaten out.

  Lady Agnes led Eugenia up the stairs to the bedchambers, all the while chatting about the activities she had planned for the ladies while the gentlemen hunted, and for the couples as they gathered in the evenings.

  Eugenia had always liked her hostess and never understood why the charming, attractive woman had remained single. Since her brother had disavowed marriage after Lady Barrymore had died, she couldn’t help but wonder what their upbringing had been like.

  The room where she was led had been decorated pleasantly in green and rose. Flowered paper covered the walls, and the light green carpet brought out the chromatic color in the blossoms. White lace curtains and heavy velvet green drapes that had been drawn back to let in the light, covered the two windows, which showcased a lovely garden and a riding path.

  Lady Agnes pointed to the door on the east side of the room. “Lord Devon’s room is right through there. I’m afraid there is no sitting room, but I expect we will all be busy.”

  “That is quite all right, my lady. I am looking forward to what you have planned.”

  “Excellent. I will leave you to freshen up. I have tea in the drawing room, since the weather does not allow any outdoor activity today. I hope we are not plagued with rain all week.”

  Lady Agnes left the room, and Eugenia began to unbutton her pelisse. Sally and Jake had traveled in a carriage behind her and Devon so, until her maid arrived, all Eugenia could do was wash the dust off her and do the best she could with her hair. Within ten minutes her ablutions were complete and she left the bedchamber.

  Devon was just leaving his room, so they walked the corridor and downstairs to the drawing room together.

  Twelve or so people stood and sat around the drawing room, drinking tea and eating small sandwiches and cakes from a tray held by a footman. Devon leaned down and spoke into her ear. “I would prefer a brandy, myself, but tea will suffice for now.”

  “Lord Devon!” Lady Abernathy, a recent widow who apparently had no concern for the customary mourning period, hurried up to them, a look of intent interest on her face. She held her hands out to Devon. “How lovely to see you.” She turned toward Eugenia. “And Lady Devon, as well.”

  Eugenia curtsied. “Lady Abernathy. So nice to see you.”

  Before the conversation went any further, Lady Abernathy linked her arm in Devon’s and walked him away, chatting merrily, leaving Eugenia standing there with her mouth agape. “Be careful with Lady Abernathy. She is a devil in disguise.” Lord Appleby leaned in close to Eugenia, his deep voice rumbling next to her.

  She turned to regard his mirthful eyes. “Is that right, my lord?”

  “Indeed, ’tis true. I have it from knowledgeable sources.” He bowed. “It is a pleasure to see you, my lady.” He extended his arm. “Since your husband has deserted you, perhaps you will take a turn with me around the room?”

  There was a time during her first season when she’d thought Lord Appleby had an interest in her. He had called a few times, partnered her at dances, and escorted her to the theater. Then he had received word that his father was gravely ill and left for his estate in northern England. That had been the last she’d seen of him until after she and Devon had been married a few weeks.

&nb
sp; He was a handsome man—although not as handsome as her husband—with a charming personality that placed him at the top of every marriage-minded mama’s list. Since he had inherited his father’s title as the Earl of Appleby, his esteem had risen even higher.

  As they made their way around the room, strolling past guests taking tea and chatting, he kept up a lively stream of conversation, telling stories about the people they passed that made her cover her mouth to keep in the laughter. “I believe, my lord, you have made up more than half of these stories.”

  He leaned back and placed his hand on his chest, his handsome face alight with merriment. “Not at all, my lady. For example, do you see Lord Gilroy over there next to Mr. Stephenson? I have it from the best sources that he has one particular hunting dog that sleeps in his bed with him every night. In fact, his valet told his wife, who happens to be lady’s maid to my sister, Lady Branford, that he cannot sleep if the dog is not cuddled next to him.”

  She laughed at his antics until her gaze swung across the room to where Devon stood with Lady Abernathy. The woman leaned against him, her hand resting possessively on his chest, gazing up into his eyes.

  …

  “That looks fine, Jake,” Devon snapped, as he waved his valet away. He was preparing to go to dinner and after only a few hours at the house party he was already irritated. One whole week of Lady Abernathy draped all over him, making suggestive comments while his wife stood in the same room was a bit too much. He’d seen Eugenia casting glances at him while she spoke with Lord Appleby.

  He would have to make sure to stick close to his wife, which of course would be commented on, since these parties were supposed to be about mingling with other guests. With a final brush on his coat, Devon disentangled himself from Jake and left the room. A slight knock on Eugenia’s door produced a soft “Enter.”

  She rose from the bench in front of the dressing table and turned to him. Why would Lady Abernathy think he would find her enticing when he had this woman by his side?

  Because, she, like everyone else in the ton, thinks you are looking to replace your mistress.

  Eugenia looked stunning. Her gown of peach silk, with a darker ribbon under her delectable breasts, fell in folds along her slender legs, outlining them as she walked toward him. Her hair was arranged in a fashionable style, with an enticing curl resting on her shoulder. Excitement shone in her bright eyes, and a slight flush colored her cheeks. More than anything, he wanted to kiss those plump lips and scoop her into his arms and stride to the bed.

  Forget dinner.

  She tugged on her elbow-length white satin gloves. “I am ready, my lord.”

  He cupped her cheek gently. “Devon. No more ‘my lord,’ remember?”

  Her bright smile lit her face further, and she dipped a curtsy elegant enough for the king. “As you say, my…Devon.”

  My Devon. Is that how she thought of him? Was she his Eugenia? Or had someone else claimed her bed and her heart?

  Pushing aside those dismal thoughts, he extended his arm and they left the room, chatting as they descended the stairs to the drawing room where the guests gathered for the dinner announcement.

  A few of the gentlemen held glasses of brandy, and the ladies sipped champagne. He snatched two glasses of champagne from a footman and handed one to her. “Here is to an enjoyable week.”

  “Devon!” The screeching voice almost had him spitting out his drink. Lady Abernathy floated up to them in a gown that barely covered her breasts. If the woman bent forward an eighth of an inch her charms would tumble out.

  He could not help but compare her to his wife. Eugenia looked every inch the lady. Her necklines continued to be lower than she had previously worn, but still showcased her body without appearing vulgar.

  Lady Abernathy’s gown was a bright red, and her cheeks and lips had obviously been enhanced by face paint. She looked tawdry standing next to Eugenia’s freshness.

  “Good evening, my lady.”

  “Oh, goodness, Devon. You may call me Augusta. After all, we are very old friends, are we not?” She beamed at him, then turned to Eugenia, her smile turning into a smirk. How he wished it would not be ill-mannered for him to put her in her place. He’d never been “old friends” with the woman, and even in his day he would have never dallied with a married woman, which Lady Abernathy had been, up until about four months ago.

  He placed his hand on Eugenia’s lower back, wrapping his fingers around her waist, and tugged her closer to him. If Lady Abernathy had noticed, she didn’t react. “May I procure a glass of champagne for you, my lady?”

  She tsked, “Oh, you,” and tapped him with her fan. “Of course. I find I am quite parched.”

  Within minutes of him handing her the champagne, dinner was announced. Lady Abernathy quickly placed her empty glass on a table and grabbed Devon’s arm. “I shall be pleased to have you escort me into dinner.”

  Since married couples generally did not stroll together to dinner, he didn’t refuse, as much as he wished to shake off her arm. In a very formal dinner, they would have proceeded to the dining room in order of rank, with the highest ranking man escorting the highest ranking woman. Given the size of the group, Lady Agnes seemed to prefer a more informal tone.

  “It appears I need to rescue you again, Lady Devon.” Lord Appleby stepped up and extended his arm to Eugenia.

  Devon was just as irritated with Lord Appleby feeling the need to “rescue” his wife as he was with Lady Abernathy fawning all over him. Perhaps this hunting party had not been such a good idea, after all.

  It would be a long week.

  Chapter Seventeen

  “Brandy will loosen tongues. And other things.”

  Secrets of the Bedchamber, p. 28

  Eugenia had just about enough of the house party. For the past several days she’d gritted her teeth as Lady Abernathy had taken every opportunity to throw herself at Devon. The woman had no shame. In all fairness to her husband, he did not seem attracted to the woman and had spent much more time at her side than he normally would at a house party.

  Despite her efforts, Devon had not visited her bed, and Eugenia was growing frustrated and confused. Confused because it had seemed the more she changed her behavior in an attempt to seduce her husband, the more he resisted. His usual schedule of visiting her bed had ended, and she now had no idea when he would join her next, if ever.

  Her jaw clenched at the thought that perhaps he had already replaced his mistress, but then she shook off that crushing notion, for it was while he’d had a mistress that he’d visited Eugenia on a regular basis.

  The last night of the gathering, Lady Agnes stood in the middle of the room and clapped her hands. “Ladies and gentlemen. As this is the end of our event, I thought perhaps the gentlemen might be excused from the ladies’ company for the evening, while the ladies and I have a nice cozy chat with our tea.”

  Lord Barrymore joined his sister in the center of the room. “Card tables have been set up in the billiard room so the men can enjoy either, while the ladies visit.”

  The men looked quite pleased to escape the ladies and enjoy the male camaraderie of whiskey, cards, and billiards. Frankly, the last thing Eugenia wanted was to sit through another “cozy chat” with these women.

  Her eyes had recently been opened to some of the falsehoods she’d been told of ton life, à la her book. Now all the male posturing, female fluttering, and cruel gossip left her with a desire to retire to her room. Perhaps a headache might work.

  “Lady Devon, do come and join us. I have the most delicious on-dit from a very reliable source.” Lady Sterling motioned to her and shifted on the settee, where her impressive bottom rested, to make room for Eugenia. How the woman could discover some new on-dit when they had all been away from London for a week would remain a mystery.

  With a sigh, Eugenia made her way across the room and joined the matron who had probably ruined more young ladies’ chances with her viper tongue than anyone else. “You will n
ever guess what Lady Adams did only last week.” Lady Sterling plastered her palm against her chest and drew in a breath. “I feel quite dismayed for her.”

  The gloat on her face, and the way she looked around the room to be certain she had the largest and most attentive audience sickened Eugenia, and in fact, did bring on a headache. Her thoughts drifted as Lady Adams joined in and giggled and sighed as she smeared a recently married young woman.

  Her eyes glazed over as the verbal attack continued. She thought about finally going home the next day and spending time with her book, thinking up new ways to entice her husband. Lady Sterling was well into a new foray about another young debutante when Eugenia’s eyes lazily wandered around the room, and she drew in a breath.

  “Yes, I know,” Lady Sterling paused and directed her comment to Eugenia, thinking she had been reacting to her charges. No, indeed. It had just come to Eugenia’s attention that Lady Abernathy was not in the room with the rest of the ladies. When had she left?

  She told herself it mattered not, since the woman might just have gone to visit the chamber set up for a ladies’ retiring room. But she appeared to be the only one missing, and most ladies of her acquaintance adhered to the unspoken rule that ladies did not make a trip without company. Her heart sped up, and a sick feeling settled in her stomach. Had Devon succumbed to Lady Abernathy’s wiles? Were they this very minute upstairs in the trollop’s room?

  A fine sheen of sweat broke out on her face, and she felt as if the walls were closing in on her, smothering, taking all the air. She hopped up, interrupting Lady Sterling’s harangue, who stopped and looked at her expectantly. “Are you all right, Lady Devon?”

  “Er, no. I seemed to have developed a headache.” She turned to Lady Agnes. “I am so sorry, my lady, but I feel as though I should retire to my room and lie down.”

  Her hostess viewed her with anxious eyes. “Would you like me to walk you up?”

  “No. That is not necessary. I will send Sally for a cool cloth.” Before she could say anything else, Eugenia quit the room, hurrying away as if the hounds of hell were barking at her heels. She barely made it out the door when Lady Sterling resumed her tirade about young Miss Davis.