Mutual Consent (24 page)

Babs had taken her pledge to sponsor Miss Stonehodge to heart and she had introduced her young cousin to a wider circle of acquaintances than would have normally come in the way of a minor baronet’s daughter. Babs knew that Lady Stonehodge could not entirely accept her role as benefactress, but she shrugged it off. Lady Stonehodge’s opinion was unimportant to the scheme of her days.

Babs had grown comfortable in her role. Lord Chatworth approved of her, she knew, and it was with real pleasure that she noticed that he appeared content to spend much of his time in her company.

The earl was nearly her constant companion. Their social lives had become a never-ending round of entertainments, which Babs truly enjoyed since Lord Chatworth chose to act as her escort. The earl had become her dearest friend as well, thought Babs, and she could not recall a time when she was happier.

However, there were still matters that lay unsettled between Babs and Lord Chatworth. Her father remained an ever-present black cloud on the horizon, and there was Lady Cartier. Babs did not forget that Lady Cartier was also a part of the earl’s life. Though his lordship seemed to have a preference for her own company, it in no way diminished the indisputable fact that he had not made of her his true wife.

Babs’ cheeks warmed whenever she thought about the possibility of Lord Chatworth’s taking her into his arms. But it was better to push the thought away, for always accompanying it was the lovely face of his mistress.

The intolerable situation was brought home with force to Babs one evening at a ball. She and Lord Chatworth had finished a waltz and chose to take the air on the balcony. Clouds glided across the velvety night sky and haloed the brilliant moon. Staring up at such sheer magnificence, Babs sighed in utter happiness.

Lord Chatworth set one elbow on the balustrade and regarded her profile. He thought idly that she was particularly beautiful that evening. “A penny for them,” he said softly.

Babs glanced at him quickly.”I was thinking that the last few months have been marvelous.” She gave a wicked smile. “I do not in the least regret our bargain, my lord.”

“Nor do I,” said Lord Chatworth, his gaze on her lips. His eyes rose to meet hers.

Babs’ heart turned over at the expression in the earl’s eyes. She stood quite still, almost mesmerized, as he slowly leaned toward her. His lips descended warmly on hers in a lingering kiss. She became lost in the tumult of her feelings.

He drew away finally, but somehow he had come to stand closer to her than before. His breath was warm against her skin, his voice soft in her ear. “We can deal even better together, Babs.”

“My lord ...” Babs felt the erratic pounding of her heart. She was thrown into a flutter. His simple statement promised so much.

“Babs.” His hands slid up her bare arms to her shoulders. The warm light in his eyes rivaled the full moon. Unaccountably shy, Babs averted her eyes from his disturbing regard.

Over the earl’s shoulder she saw a lady in silhouette standing at one of the doors to the balcony. The lady moved away from the balcony and the blazing candlelight of the ballroom shone full on the lovely face of Lady Beth Cartier.

Babs felt dashed by a pan of cold water. She withdrew from under the earl’s light clasp, saying coolly, “I am perfectly satisfied with our arrangement as it is, Marcus.” Without waiting for his lordship, she had returned to the ballroom.

Babs now regretted that she had not waited for the earl’s reaction. He had never countered her set-down, either then or in the days since. And in light of what else had occurred that same evening, Babs wished the earl had felt strongly enough to push the issue. Then perhaps she could have thrown out to him what she had so regretted overhearing, and thus eased some of the hurt.

However, the friendliness between them was not altered in any way. She and the earl continued with their round of amusements as though she had never given him such short shrift. Indeed, his lordship appeared never to tire of the entertainments and Babs kept private her own wish for an odd evening spent at home.

It came as a shock when Lord Chatworth suggested that they dine in. “I am rather bored by the frantic pace that we are obliged to keep these days. Would it vex you too much if we were to remain at home for one evening, Babs?” he asked.

She was startled that he had seemed to read her thoughts so closely, but she recovered quickly enough so that she hoped he did not notice her surprise. “Of course not, my lord,” she said. “I shall speak to the cook about dinner this evening.”

Lord Chatworth nodded. They were rising from the breakfast table and Babs started to precede him from the room. He caught her wrist lightly between his fingers. “A moment, my lady.”

She looked up at him inquiringly. “Yes?” They were momentarily alone in the breakfast room, but soon the footmen would return to clear the table.

Lord Chatworth reached into the pocket of his morning coat. He brought out a small flat leather case and held it out to her.

Babs regarded him questioningly as she took the case. He had let go her wrist and she lifted the lid of the case. Inside, on a background of blue velvet, reposed a diamond pendant surrounded by pearls on a simple gold chain. Babs stared at the necklace, stunned. “It is beautiful.”

Lord Chatworth lifted the chain. The swinging diamond caught fire in the morning light. “Allow me, my lady.” He stepped behind her and carried the slender chain over her head. His fingers brushed her sensitive skin as he fastened the chain about her neck.

His hands slid to her shoulders and he turned her to him. He did not remove his hands from her shoulders, but simply stood there, so close that his boots touched the hem of her skirt. There was an unreadable expression on his face and in his eyes a peculiarly penetrating look.

Babs felt the warmth of a blush. She found it difficult to meet his stare. She lowered her eyes as she touched with one fingertip the precious stone, which lay cool against her breast. “It is most beautiful, Marcus. I thank you.”

He released her and to her profound relief stepped back. In a casual tone, he said, “I thought it a pretty trifle that would please you.” He picked up his cup and finished off the coffee in it.

“It does, very much,” said Babs, somewhat breathlessly. She glanced at his face as he replaced the cup on the table. She did not know what to make of his behavior. Just a few moments before he had suggested an intimate dinner and now he had given her a gift. She dared not attempt to fathom his reasoning.

Lord Chatworth seemed to read her thoughts again and his expression lightened with the appearance of his lurking smile. “Indeed, it is most queer of me to wish the company of my wife or to bestow a small gift upon her. I normally reserve such niceties for my mistresses.’’ He saw the quick aversion of her head and cursed his slip of the tongue.

“Pray excuse me, my lord. I have a great many errands today,” said Babs quietly. All her pleasure in the pendant and chain was quite destroyed. She had momentarily forgotten that to a gentleman like the Earl of Chatworth such a gift had little meaning. Doubtless his lordship was quite used to bestowing such trifles on ladies over the breakfast table. The thought brought a flash into her eyes, and she did not glance again at her husband as she started toward the breakfast-room door.

He caught her hand as she made to slip past him, effectively detaining her. “My dear, it was but a joke. And not a particularly well-bred one, at that. Even I have never kept several mistresses, at least not all at once,” he said lightly.

She tossed a fleeting glance at him. She threw up her head and met his eyes with a decidedly challenging air. “Indeed, sir! You surprise me. I have heard much concerning your charming manners and stamina in the boudoir. Forgive me, therefore, for my lack of confidence in your present credibility.”

Lord Chatworth became for an instant quite still. “Someone has filled your ears with poisonous innuendo. I wonder who, or may I guess?”

Babs flushed slightly. “It is unimportant, after all.” She attempted to free her hand, but his clasp tightened about her fingers.

“Ah, but I would know the name of your mysterious source. Come, Babs, confess or it will be the worse for you,” he said warningly.

He turned over her hand and lightly stroked the palm with his thumb. He felt her jerk in surprise, and he smiled at her. There was a devilish light in his eyes. “I can be quite persuasive, my dear, which you have yet to discover. Perhaps you should take heed from what you heard from your confidante.”

Her eyes flew to his face in shock and consternation.

He said suavely, “I speak of my vaunted stamina, of course. I do not easily give up on an object of interest.”

Babs was betrayed into a choked laugh. She had been thinking of something quite other, of which he was apparently all too aware. She smiled faintly. “Very well, sir. I cry craven. I admit to a particularly reprehensible moment of eavesdropping a few evenings past, which I hasten to assure you is not my usual style.”

“I am certain it is not,” Marcus murmured. He smiled still, but a waiting expression had come into his eyes. “I suppose it is not too much to inquire whom it was who spoke so familiarly of me? My lamentable curiosity, you do understand. One can never rest until one knows the origin of such idle gossip. It is so fatiguing otherwise. My stamina is hard put to carry me through the ordeal.”

Babs laughed in truth then. She found his complaint ridiculous, as she knew that he meant her to. She shrugged in resignation, suspecting that he would not let her go until she had satisfied him. “It was Lady Cartier and another lady unknown to me. Her ladyship undoubtedly had no notion that I was about.”

Lord Chatworth regarded her unsmilingly for a moment. Then he sighed. “Babs, I suspect that you know as well as I that Lady Cartier’s observations were all for your benefit. She was my mistress, Babs; I do not deny that. But she is no longer, and has not been for some time.”

Babs looked at him while an incredible warmth coursed through her. “Thank you for telling me that, Marcus.’’ She smiled suddenly, trying to dispel her own vulnerability. “I have preparations to see to for this evening if we are to sit down to a decent dinner. I must hurry off or I shall not accomplish all that I should.”

“Of course,” agreed Lord Chatworth. He smiled at his wife and raised her fingers to his lips. “I also have several matters to attend to today, but nevertheless I shall count the hours until we dine together this evening, my lady.” He drew her to him and kissed her lightly.

The footmen entered at that moment and Babs flushed to be caught in such an intimate posture. “Really, my lord! One would think you an accomplished flirt,’’ she said flippantly. She whisked herself free and left the breakfast room with a lightened step.

Babs spent the morning in a happy haze. She consulted at great length with the cook to decide just the perfect meal to place before the Earl of Chatworth. That exercise took up most of the morning. She also received a few morning callers. She greeted her visitors with a graciousness not at all tainted with her usual reserve, which led one of the ladies to remark later that the countess was in bloom.

After luncheon, Babs occupied herself agonizing over just the right gown and the necessary accessories. The earl’s gift must be worn, of course, and the careful choosing of her dress evolved about the diamond-and-pearl pendant. Her maid was nearly driven to distraction in the trying on and the rejection of more than a dozen gowns before Babs settled upon one of organza silk.

The gown was deceptively simple in cut, being high-waisted and narrow of skirt. The half-round sleeves fell off the shoulders and the décolletage plunged, so that Babs’ shapely breasts appeared to be the only deterrent to the gown slipping completely away.

Lucy dubiously eyed the shocking bodice. “My lady, perhaps another gown? Might I suggest the blue satin or the yellow—”

“No, it shall be this one. It is perfect,” Babs breathed as she stared at her reflection. Her shoulders rose like smooth alabaster out of the puffed silk sleeves, and her bosom nicely rounded the silk. The sophistication of the gown was an incredible foil for the simplicity of the gold chain and pendant that lay against her bare skin.

She had bought the revealing gown months ago, but she had never worn it. She had realized the gown was too daring by half. Disgusted by her own cowardice, she had made certain that the gown had been thrust to the back of her wardrobe so that she would not be reminded at sight of it of her faintheartedness.

Now she was immeasurably grateful that she had put it aside. This was a gown made for a special evening. As she looked in the cheval glass at the reflected fire of the diamond pendant, she began to hope that it would be a very special evening, indeed.

“Lucy, I wish something new done with my hair. Something very elegant and very simple,” she said.

“Of course, my lady. Nothing could be easier,” said Lucy with awful sarcasm. Nevertheless, she made shift to discover a style that met the completely opposite requirements demanded by her mistress.

In the end, Babs regarded her reflection with awe. “Lucy, you have outdone yourself,” she murmured. Her hair was pulled into a loose knot at the back other head and the locks were left to wisp free about her face and shoulders. The glorious mane glinted red-gold and rivaled the pendant for fire.

“It is a true creation, if I may say so, my lady,” Lucy said, extremely pleased with herself.

Babs impulsively hugged her servantwoman, shocking the maid to such an extent that she was made speechless. The countess laughed as she left the bedroom and went downstairs.

Babs pretended not to notice the footman’s dropped jaw as she passed, but she was pleased, nevertheless. It was just the sort of effect she had hoped for, though it remained to be seen whether the Earl of Chatworth was to be as susceptible.

The footman leapt to open the drawing room door for her. Babs murmured her thanks and stepped into the room. The earl was standing with his back to the door as he stirred the fire with his boot. At sound of her entrance he turned. He stared at her. A light kindled deep in his eyes.