A Scandalous Wife, Page 6

Gosling Park was in a mild uproar, and all over a mere dinner party for twelve measly people. Since Luke had descended upon the household and would be present at dinner, Lydia had asked Miss Mitford to attend as well, to round out her numbers. At first the governess had balked at the invitation and seemed nervous to learn there was going to be a dinner party at all. But Lydia had enticed the girl with an extra day off the next week if she would attend. Besides, it was a good opportunity to meet the local magistrate and vicar. Finally, after she’d secured Miss Mitford’s acceptance, Lydia offered her the use of one of her gowns for the party.

  Miss Mitford had politely refused the dress. “I don’t think that would be proper at all. I’m sure I have something that will be suitable, Lady Masten.”

  Lydia smiled warmly. “If you change your mind the offer still stands. And one more thing, Miss Mitford.”

  “Yes, my lady?”

  Lydia took a deep breath and pursed her lips. How did one go about warning young women in regards to the dangers of Luke Beckford? “My brother-in-law—well, Mr. Beckford can be very persuasive with his attentions. I just want you to keep your guard up and be careful around him.”

  But to Lydia’s surprise, Miss Mitford had laughed out loud at her warning. “Oh, Lady Masten, don’t worry about me. I know Mr.VI know all about Mr. Beckford. Remember, my cousin works for Lady Staveley.”

  Lydia had smiled at that, putting her mind at ease. Thank heavens. It was one less thing to have to worry about. Though her list of other worries concerning her party were growing by leaps and bounds. She soon discovered that Betsy was a fountain of information regarding her guests. At first the knowledge was comforting, but that feeling had quickly turned to troubling.

  Betsy had convinced her that she should watch Sir Phillip Cressley’s intake of spirits. Apparently, the magistrate was known to get foxed whenever he was in close proximity with the vicar. Lydia made a note: Place Sir Phillip and Mr. Lovelace at opposite ends of the table.

  Lord Masten had been heard cursing Lord Edgecroft’s name earlier in the week and was itching to give their neighbor a piece of his mind. Apparently, Edgecroft’s sheep had recently started jumping the fence onto Gosling’s property and were eating everything in sight. Lydia made another note: Persuade Robert not to thrash Lord Edgecroft in front of the other guests.

  Betsy felt certain that Lady Cressley would try to monopolize the handsome Mr. Beckford’s attention in an attempt to make her husband jealous. The baroness had been put out with Sir Phillip ever since he’d been found enjoying another woman’s company. Her ladyship now seemed dead-set on making her husband pay for his pursuit of other pleasures. Keep Lady Cressley away from Luke. Seat her near the Reverend Mr. Lovelace.

  The list went on and on. How was there so much to keep in mind for such a small gathering? Lydia’s respect for Caroline’s ability to entertain swarms of people now knew no bounds. What she wouldn’t give for her sister-in-law’s sage advice.

  On the plus side, Kistler had finally stopped sulking from the set-down Robert had apparently given him the night before. The earl had been in no mood to deal with his prickly valet, and he had made sure that Kistler understood—in no uncertain terms—that he would have to share his dressing room with Betsy from now on. While the valet had originally bristled at such an arrangement, he came around after being subjected to a burst of Robert’s quick temper. In the end, Kistler had swallowed enough pride to actually smile in Betsy’s presence. Lydia was hopeful that this was another situation she wouldn’t have to worry about anymore.

  Betsy convinced Lydia to wear her new rose colored gown, and then gushed over how beautiful she looked in the creation. The maid piled Lydia’s hair up high on her head, but left a few tendrils out to curl around her face.

  Lydia looked at her reflection in the floor-length mirror and her eyes grew wide with alarm. Robert would never approve of the revealing bodice on this gown. What had been going through her mind when she’d ordered it? Oh, yes, she had intended to punish her husband at the time. “Betsy, please fill this in with a fichu.” Lydia touched the top of her exposed bosom. “I think it would give Lord Masten heart palpitations to see me like this.”

  Betsy smirked. “More like it would give him palpitations somewhere else.”

  “Betsy!” Lydia tried to suppress a smile. “I don’t have any idea what you mean.”

  The maid laughed as she tucked in the lacy material at the top of the countess’ dress, making it a bit more conservative.

  The door to the chambers opened and Robert strode inside. He came to an abrupt halt when he saw his wife in the middle of the room. Then he smiled and crossed the room to inspect her more closely. “My love, you look gorgeous.”

  Lydia blushed from his praise and then spun around in her new gown. “Do you really think so, Robert?”

  He kissed the top of her head. “Aye, and the dress is nice too. Is this one of the new gowns from Madam Fournier?” He looked her over, front and back.

  “Yes.” Lydia nodded as she looked up at him.

  “It’s worth every penny. Remind me to thank Caroline for taking you shopping.”

  Now she laughed. “Even though it was to teach you a lesson?”

  “Even though.” He tapped her nose affectionately.

  Betsy quietly cleared her throat. “Will that be all, my lady?”

  “Yes,” Lydia responded, though she never removed her eyes from her husband. Then she snapped back to reality. “I mean no. I need my pearls, Betsy.”

  The maid curtseyed. “Of course, my lady.”

  “Wait.” Robert stopped the maid. “Betsy, leave us, will you. And tell Kistler I’ll be ready for him in a trice.”

  “Yes, Lord Masten.” Betsy smiled one more time at Lydia and then bustled from the room.

  Robert withdrew a long, slender box from his coat pocket and offered it to Lydia. “I hope you don’t mind, darling. I managed to pry out of Betsy what you would be wearing tonight and I’d hoped you’d wear these instead.”

  Lydia tentatively took the gift from her husband and opened it with shaking hands. Inside the velvet-lined box, there was an opal nearly the size of her fist that hung from a slender cream-colored ribbon. There were also two smaller matching opal ear bobs. They were, in a word, stunning. Lydia looked back up at her husband in awe. “Oh, Robert.”

  “They were my mother’s. But I want you to have them now. I sent Betsy into Lulworth to find a ribbon that would work.” He removed the necklace from the box and tied it around her neck.

  “Robert, they are beautiful,” she remarked breathlessly, gently touching the opal around her neck.

  He smiled while Lydia slid the ear bobs into place. “Much better than those virginal pearls,” he remarked, then stood back and admired his wife and her new baubles. “It’s almost perfect.”

  “Almost?” Lydia asked in surprise and tried to catch a glimpse of her reflection in the mirror.

  But before she could step away from Robert, he smiled devilishly, snatched the fichu from her dress, and flicked it over his shoulder. “Now it’s perfect.”

  Lydia looked down at herself and then met his eyes in surprise. “You don’t think this is too daring? The Robert I knew in London would have hated this dress.”

  Robert pulled her into his arms. “Oh, who cares what that Robert thought? He was a fool.” Then, very softly, he kissed her.

  They were interrupted by a light scratching at the door. Robert rolled his eyes and whispered to his wife, “You’d best leave me to Kistler. The man is temperamental as it is. He won’t want you hovering.”

  Lydia grinned. “I’ll check in on the children.”

  “Oh, I’m sorry, love.” Robert cringed. “They’re down at the stables with Mrs. Norris. They wanted to check on Star Dancer.” The scratching got louder, and Robert frowned as he barked, “Stubble it, Kistler!” Then he smiled at his wife. “That man will be the death of me. Unfortunately, he’s the best damn valet to be found.”

>   Lydia giggled as she stepped toward the door and opened it. Kistler nearly fell to the floor, but he caught his balance and managed not to look flustered. She nodded politely to the valet. “I’ll leave his lordship in your very capable hands, Kistler.”

  “Thank you, my lady.” Then the valet actually smiled at her before he started across the room to the earl.

  Then Lydia turned back to look at her husband. “Oh, Robert, I nearly forgot.”

  “Yes, sweetheart?”

  “Promise me you won’t thrash Lord Edgecroft tonight at dinner.”

  Robert’s mouth fell open. “How did you know I’d planned to?”

  Kistler snorted. Loudly. “I’d bet you a year’s salary that Betsy Bowman told her. That woman has a loose tongue.”

  Lydia smothered a smile. “Well, Robert?”

  Her husband’s eyes narrowed and he pursed his lips. “His sheep are a nuisance. And they’ve gotten into to my special crop of hay, Lydia.”

  “Then you can make plans to see him tomorrow to discuss it. Please, Robert. You know how important this dinner is to me.”

  His expression softened and he shrugged, looking like a troublesome boy. “You’ll have to use your wiles to convince me, darling.”

  Kistler made some sort of choking sound from the corner of the room. When Robert glared sternly at his valet, Lydia giggled. “Oh, Lord Masten, I promise you’ll be amply rewarded for your good behavior.” Then with that, she left him to his toilet.

             

  The guests were all assembled in the formal drawing room. Robert stood close to his wife and was glad she seemed more relaxed somewhat now that everyone had arrived. Mrs. Vaughan, an attractive young matron, asked Lydia all about London and how her old friend Caroline was getting along. Mr. Vaughan said very little, but walked around the drawing room, stopping every now and then to peer at one antique item or another.

  From the moment she arrived, Lady Cressley flirted shamelessly with both Luke and the dour Lord Edgecroft. However her husband, Sir Phillip Cressley, the aging magistrate paid her activities little, if any, attention at all. Instead, the baronet focused on the thin and balding vicar, and he quickly downed two and a half glasses of whiskey as soon as Mr. Lovelace arrived.

  Miss Mitford stood in the corner of the drawing room and observed the goings-on. The spindly and angular Lady Edgecroft stared at the governess for quite some time before pointedly asking the young woman where she knew her from. Miss Mitford’s face lost her color and she looked almost at once like a frightened mare.            

  Surprisingly, Luke smoothly came to her rescue. “Oh, my dear Lady Edgecroft, I believe Miss Mitford just has one of those faces, you know?”

  “One of those faces?” Lady Edgecroft repeated with a frown.

  “You know,” Luke drawled charmingly and made his way to Miss Mitford’s side, “she could be a duke’s stubborn daughter, or a wealthy heiress embroiled in some adventure, or a shy governess looking after a couple charges. Miss Mitford looks like she could be anybody. Though, I think of her as a diamond hiding among paste imitations.”

  Miss Mitford cast him irritated glance, and then turned her attention back to Lady Edgecroft. “I’m sure I would remember if we’d met before, my lady.” Then she made her way to other side of the room.

  A few minutes later, Robert frowned as he watched Luke follow the governess to her spot in the corner. What was his brother up to? And what was all that rubbish about diamonds hiding among paste imitations? Robert squeezed Lydia’s shoulder and dropped a peck on her cheek, before crossing the room to where Luke and the governess were embroiled in a heated but quiet discussion. Miss Mitford met his eyes and she smiled, relief evident on her face. “Lord Masten.”

  Robert nodded at her and then met his brother’s eyes. “Miss Mitford, would you mind terribly giving me a moment alone with my brother?”

  “Not at all.” The governess sounded thankful and she crossed the room to where Lydia and Mrs. Vaughan were chatting amiably.

  Robert narrowed his eyes on his reprobate of a brother. “Lucas, tell me I don’t have to ask you to refrain yourself from seducing a member of my staff.”

  Luke looked from his brother to the quiet governess across the room and finally again back to Robert. “What kind of man do you think I am?”

  There were too many insulting things on the tip of Robert’s tongue, but he managed to hold them back. “I think I’ll save us both the embarrassment of actually answering that.”

  Luke scowled and then turned his attention back to the governess. “Let me put your mind at ease, Robert. I have no intention of seducing Miss Mitford.”

  There was something about the way Luke spoke the governess’ name that made Robert uneasy. He couldn’t exactly put his finger on it. But before he could question his brother any further, the doors to the drawing room flew open and Peter and Penny raced inside.

  There was an audible gasp from the crowd at the children’s sudden presence. They were panting heavily and trying to catch their breath. Penny’s brown hair had fallen out of her braid and hung about her face, making her look like a miniature Medusa, and Peter’s little cheeks were red from exertion. When the children saw that the room full of adults were staring at them in shock, Peter and Penny both stopped in their tracks.

  Lydia rushed toward the children and placed a comforting hand on each of their faces. “What are you doing here, my darlings? You should be up with Mrs. Norris.”

  Peter looked at all the anxious faces focused on him and his sister and froze. But Penny excitedly took the countess’ arm and squeezed tightly. “We went down to the stables, like Lord Masten said we could. And, Lady Masten, the baby, the—” she squished up her face, obviously trying to get the words right— “foal. We saw it get born. It just fell—”

  “Thank you, Penny.” Lydia loudly cut the child off, blushing to her roots. “I’m sure his lordship would love to hear all about it—tomorrow.” She stood up tall and began to usher the children from the room. “Let me take you back up to Mrs. Norris.”

  But Miss Mitford stepped forward. “Allow me, my lady.” Lydia didn’t notice that the governess glanced back over her shoulder fretfully at Luke, but Robert caught the look.

  And so did Luke, who crossed the room in front of his brother and offered his arm to the governess. “I’ll escort you, Miss Mitford. Gosling can be a bit confusing to navigate and I’d hate for you to find yourself lost in this maze of a house.”

  Begrudgingly, Miss Mitford took Luke’s proffered arm and then the two of them quietly steered the children back through the drawing room doors. Lydia noticed that Lady Cressley frowned when the door shut behind them. Betsy had certainly been right on that score—the baroness had kept her eyes on Luke all night.

  Robert stepped forward and placed a hand on the small of Lydia’s back, speaking softly in her ear. “I’m uneasy with that situation. Luke has been paying too much attention to Miss Mitford for my comfort.”

  Lydia met his eyes, smiled, and whispered back, “I think Miss Mitford can take care of herself. She told me she is quite familiar with your brother’s reputation. Her cousin works for Caroline, you know.”

  Robert furrowed his brow thoughtfully, then nodded and smiled at his guests. “Sorry for the interruption. The children have been anxiously awaiting the birth of Star Dancer’s foal.”

  The guests smiled politely, though a confused look crossed more than one face. It was Mr. Vaughan who finally spoke. “Masten, who exactly were those children?”

  With a twinkle in his eye Robert explained, “Ah, the poor dears. They’re my wards. Their mother, Francesca Harris, was a childhood friend of Lady Masten’s. She was widowed, of course, and had no family to speak of. So, when she knew illness was going to take her away from her precious children, she asked us if we would care for Peter and Penelope in her absence.”

  Lydia looked up at her husband in pure amazement as the complete fabrication fell so easil
y from his lips. She had no idea the man was a master deceiver. Then she smiled, despite herself, when he draped his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer to his side. “My sweet wife wouldn’t have it any other way, of course—she and Mrs. Harris had been such good friends. And the children are just delightful. So Lady Masten and I have started adoption proceedings.”

  Adoption proceedings? Lydia’s eyes flew to Robert’s. Was he serious?

  He was still talking however. “I thought initially that the boy should go off to Eton, but my wife felt that Peter should have some time to grieve and adjust to his new family and surroundings before displacing him again. What is your opinion, Mr. Lovelace?”

  The vicar looked taken aback to be asked so pointed a question in front of the assembled group. He nodded toward Lydia and then Robert. “Well, I think it was quite charitable for you to open your home to these children, Lord Masten, and to offer them your name. Peter is more than welcome to join the other boys in my Latin class on Tuesdays. Then perhaps he’ll be ready for Eton in the fall.”

  And it went on from there, with the earl answering questions and painting a tragically romantic history for his two soon-to-be children, thus cementing Peter and Penny’s future position within polite society. They would never be known as orphaned pick-pockets or London street urchins. They would now be the respectable, adopted children of the Earl and Countess of Masten—orphans of a war hero, Major Quinten Harris, and his lovely wife Francesca. With just a few words from his creative imagination, Robert had invented a past for Peter and Penny that would ensure them a bright and happy future.

  Appearances, Lydia, appearances—she could almost hear him whisper in her ear. Lydia’s heart swelled with love for her husband. He was so different from the man she’d always thought him to be. How glorious it was to be wrong.

  It took a bit longer than one would have expected for Luke and Miss Mitford to return to the group. But other than that, the remainder of the evening continued free of incident. Once they sat down to dinner, Robert looked down the long table at his wife and smiled. She was in her element, charming Mr. Lovelace on one side and Lady Edgecroft on the other. Gosling Park had gone too long without a mistress to preside over her. Thankfully, that lonely era had finally come to an end.

  “Robert, were you really serious about adopting the children?” Lydia asked with a raised brow, after their guests were finally gone and they were alone in the safety of their bedchamber.

  He stood proudly and nodded. “Would I make an announcement like that if I wasn’t?”

  No, of course he wouldn’t, but still. “That’s just such a big step, Robert. Are you certain you want to do this?”

  “Lydia, when I let you keep those children in London, I knew I was taking responsibility for their well-being. All I’m doing now is giving them the added protection of my name.”

  “But how?”

  “I’ve sent everything to my solicitors at Amherst and Birch. They are getting all the necessary papers drawn up as we speak. I gathered all the information that Peter knew about their parents. Their mother was trampled by a coach in London. He’d told me about the accident, but I didn’t realize that was how she died. Poor fellow witnessed the gruesome event. Mary Harris was her name. She was never married, and Peter knows next to nothing about either of their fathers. Those two little imps have been through so much more than any child should have to endure.”

  She stared at him, dumbfounded. “But you never said a word to me about any of this.”

  Robert kissed the top of her head and then stepped away to admire his wife. “I know you want to be included in decisions, darling. But I so wanted to surprise you.” His brow then furrowed and he took a deep breath. “You should know, however that Peter cannot inherit the title. There are provisions against such a thing, Lydia.”

  Lydia giggled with glee. “Oh, Robert, you’ll still have your heir. Didn’t I tell you that I’d deny you nothing?”

  “Is there anything yet? Dizziness? Nausea? Wild cravings?” he asked anxiously.

  Her blue eyes danced as she smiled at him. “Just the wild cravings. I’ve developed quite an addiction for my husband and I want him all the time. I don’t know what is to be done about it.”

  Robert pulled her into his arms. “Hmm? I’m sure I’ll think of something.”

  Lydia then looked up at her husband and grinned. She still couldn’t get over the fact that they were going to adopt Peter and Penny. “And you renamed her Penelope?”

  Robert shrugged as he stepped behind his wife and began to unbutton the back of her dress. “I figure that’s only fair. She does want to name one of my foals, after all. Besides, Penny sounds too common to be the daughter of an earl. Appearances, Lydia.”

  Lydia laughed. Had she not thought the same thing over dinner? “And what about Major Quinten Harris and his lovely wife Francesca?”

  Robert smirked as he finished his ministrations. “I suppose I did lay it on a bit thick, didn’t I?”

  Her dress dropped from his hands and fell limply to the floor, leaving Lydia only in her chemise. She turned to face him. “You do nothing by half, Robert.”

  He leaned forward and brushed his lips against hers. “I’m glad you noticed, because I’m ready to claim my reward, wife.”

  “Your reward?” she asked innocently as she stepped out of the dress that pooled at her feet and backed away from her husband.

  Robert’s eyes twinkled with a devilish glint. “Yes, my reward for not handing Edgecroft his arse on a platter in front of an audience. My wife said I’d be amply rewarded.”

  Lydia coyly bit the bottom of her lip and stepped even further away from her husband, until the back of her legs bumped against the edge of their bed. “And so you have been. All of our guests now think you’re perfectly well behaved.”

  “Bollocks,” he responded with a grin and began to stalk her like a predator. “You forget, those people have known me most of my life. Now they all think I’ve gone soft. I’d best be rewarded most generously for the loss of my hard-earned reputation, Lydia. Besides, there are those wild cravings of yours to consider.” He reached her beside the bed and picked her up in his arms, kissed her thoroughly, and then dropped her in the middle of their four-poster.

  Lydia scrambled under the soft counterpane and waited anxiously while Robert shed his clothes and joined her. She sighed happily when he pulled her to his lap, wrapped his arms around her, and kissed her into submission.

  It wasn’t even dawn—of that Lydia was certain. True, her eyelids hadn’t yet opened, but she knew it was too early for any sane person to be awake. That could only mean that Robert was already getting up for the day. Did the man never sleep? He could stay up all night making love to her, and then rise with sun and never seem tired. Of course, she was more tired lately than she could remember being before. But still…

  Then she heard voices, tiny ones, in her room. She rolled over and groaned. Next she heard Robert’s voice softly whispering, “Shh! Don’t wake her.  We’ll all be sorry if you do.”

  Blast him! Who was he talking to in their room in the wee hours of the morning? And what did he mean they’d all be sorry? Was he saying she was cranky in the mornings? She stirred again and moaned.

  Then she heard two little voices laugh quietly—but she distinctly heard them laugh. Peter and Penny? What were they doing in the master chambers at this hour? She tried to sit up, but her arms just wouldn’t cooperate. She was simply too tired to move. “Robert?” she was barely able to get out.

  The bed dipped as Robert sat next to her. He gently smoothed her hair off her forehead and dropped a kiss on her cheek. “Shh! Darling, go back to sleep. I’ll usher these little urchins out of here.”

  “No, I don’t want them to leave.” Lydia managed to blink her eyes open.

  “Lydia, we’re just going down to the stables to have a look at Star Dancer’s new filly.”

  “That’s a girl ‘orse,” Penny said cheerfully and hopped
up on the bed next to Lydia. “Petey and me have been thinkin’ up names all night. I think we got a good one.”

  Lydia’s arms were now functioning and finally ready to obey her commands. She pushed herself up to a sitting position, grateful she was still wearing her chemise. Penny snuggled against her and she wrapped her arms around the little girl. “Penny, what are you doing up at this hour?”

  “Well, Lord Masten said we can’t in’errupt our studies to see the ‘orses, so we ‘ad to get up earlier than Miss Mitford.”

  Robert tweaked the child’s nose. “You little tattle-tale. Now, you’ve got me in trouble.”

  Penny giggled at that and sat up tall. “Nobody could ge’ you in trouble. You’re the earl.”

  “Ah.” Robert leaned in close and kissed the girl’s cheek. “But she’s the countess, and I have to answer to her.”

  Lydia rolled her eyes at that. As if Robert ever had to answer to her for anything. Then Penny leaned back against her and snuggled in closer. “Can’t you come with us, Lady Masten? Don’t you want to see Petey’s filly?”

  “You little imp.” Robert picked the girl off the bed. “I already told you that her ladyship needs her sleep or she’s grouchy the rest of the day.”

  “Robert!”

  He looked sheepish and shrugged. “I’m sorry, my love, but it is true. Now close your eyes and go back to sleep, and we’ll see you at breakfast.”

  Grouchy, indeed! Lydia swung her legs off the bed and stood. “If you can get up at this ungodly hour, Robert, then so can I. Give me a minute and I’ll meet you all out on the front lawn.”

  He smiled at her and both children clapped their hands together excitedly.

  Before Lydia knew it, she was haphazardly dressed and crossing Gosling in the early hours of the morning. Penny and Robert raced down the path while Peter held back with her and held her hand. “I’m glad you’ve come wi’ us, Lady Masten.”

  “Me too.”

  They reached the stables in no time, and Peter led the group to the foaling stall where Star Dancer, a beautiful black mare, now shared with her new chestnut filly. Penny excitedly explained how they’d made it just in time to witness the birth of the foal the night before and all the details Lydia had tried to keep quiet at the dinner party.

  It was truly amazing to see these two children, who’d only lived in the filth and the disease-ridden streets of London, embrace their new lives in the country so openly. Her thoughts were interrupted when Peter remarked grandly, “Gardenia.”

  “Gardenia?” Lydia echoed in confusion.

  Penny lifted her arms in the air for Lydia to pick her up, which she promptly did. “Petey told Lord Masten that we liked ‘ow you always smell so pretty. An’ he said you smell like Gardenias—that’s a flower.” Penny rested her curly brown head on Lydia’s shoulder.

  Lydia smiled at the child, kissed the top of her head, and then met her husband’s eyes across the stables. He winked at her.

  “So,” Peter continued, “Penny and me decided that since this was a girl ‘orse, we should name her Gardenia.”

  Lydia blushed as she looked at the other three expectant faces around the stables. “Peter, that’s lovely. Thank you.”

  “It was my idea,” Penny chimed in. “But it would’ve been a terrible name for a boy.”

  Lydia laughed in agreement, and then she watched in amazement as Peter entered the stall and ran his hand over first the mare, and then the filly. She couldn’t believe the mare would allow the boy to engage with her offspring. Though Star Dancer kept a watchful eye on Peter, she seemed completely at ease he interacted with Gardenia. Never in a million years would Lydia have thought such a thing was possible.