The Earl's Return (Marriage Mart Mayhem) (21 page)

“You will pay for this,” Rumbold said, glaring at Redgrave.

“I think not.” Manchester stood and walked to his desk, leaning his hip against the edge, his glass of brandy dangling from his hand. “In fact, Rumbold, your days of swindling your friends, of threatening your relatives, and generally making a nuisance of yourself, are over.”

Rumbold shifted in his seat and straightened his clothing. “I have no idea what you are talking about.”

Manchester nodded at Redgrave, who crossed one booted foot over his bent knee and leaned back in his chair as he spoke. “Tonight, you will sign a document renouncing this scheme of yours, and another missive to your man of business to release all the funds you have collected thus far and return them to their rightful owners.”

“I will do no such thing,” the man blustered.

Manchester moved to the door and opened it. “Have the men arrived?”

“Yes, Your Grace,” the butler’s voice drifted from the corridor.

“Good. Send them in.”

“What the hell is all this?” Rumbold said, his face growing pale at the sight of the giant and two other men of equal size entering the room.

“You have two options, Rumbold,” Redgrave continued as though the room hadn’t been overtaken by men who looked more at home in a barroom brawl than a duke’s library. “Either these men will escort you to somewhere where you will never be found again, or you will sign the documents we have drawn up for you, and then you will live.”

“I told you what would happen if you tried to thwart me,” Rumbold growled.

“It is of no concern,” Manchester said, straightening from the desk and placing his empty glass on the sidebar. “Because if you decide to sign the documents—and save your life—you will be taken to a ship at Port of London straightaway and delivered to the shores of America.”

“America! I am a peer of the realm. You cannot do this to me! You cannot force me to leave my title and estates vacant.”

“From what my runner has discovered, there is little left of your estate, and your title has fallen into one of shame.” Redgrave joined Manchester at the sideboard and the two men stood shoulder to shoulder, facing Rumbold. “We will send you with enough money to establish yourself. But you will not send letters back, or in any way contact anyone in England.”

“What’s to stop me from doing that?”

Redgrave nodded to the giant who moved closer to Rumbold. “I have a brother in America. He will meet your ship and keep an eye on you. You understand?”

If possible, Rumbold grew paler but nodded.

“Good. I am glad we are all in agreement.” Manchester signaled to Rumbold to join him at his desk. He shoved the two papers under his nose and handed him a pen. “Sign.”

Rumbold looked ready to object when the giant moved closer. Then he swallowed and added his name to the documents. Manchester held out his hand to Redgrave, who placed an envelope in his hand. He tossed it to Rumbold. “This should be enough to get you settled.”

The two men with the giant grabbed Rumbold under his arms and dragged him through the door. Redgrave gave the rest of the coins to the giant who tugged on his cap, smiled a gap-toothed grin, and left the room.

“It’s done.” Redgrave took a deep breath and dropped into the chair in front of Manchester’s desk. The duke poured them both a shot of brandy and raised his glass in a salute. Redgrave was about to take his last gulp of brandy when the door to the library burst open. Mary stood there, her eyes flashing, her hands fisted at her hips.

“I have no idea why you are here,
my lord,
but I suggest you get out of my house.” She pointed to the door. “Now.”

Chapter Twenty-One

Mary fought the desire to fling herself into Redgrave’s arms and either kiss him soundly or pound on his chest. Had he only been using her to restore his persona in the
ton
? If not, then why was he here? Drake hadn’t sent for her, so the reason for his presence had obviously nothing to do with her. If Abigail hadn’t told her he was here, would he have conducted whatever business he had with her brother and left?

To find his bride?

“Mary, please, I am not quite sure why you are so upset.” He turned to Drake. “Can we have a few moments alone, please?”

“I think not. I do not intend to leave the two of you alone until I know what is going on. My sister has asked you to leave. Unless she changes her mind in the next few seconds, I expect you to honor her request.”

Redgrave turned to her. “Please, give me a few minutes.”

She crossed her arms over her chest. “Two minutes.” She could at least give him that. Whatever explanation he had would certainly not change her mind. She would not be played the fool again.

Drake pointed a finger at Redgrave. “The door will remain open.”

Her brother left the room, and she dropped her arms. “What do you want?”

“I want to know what happened.” He rested his hands on his hips. “I thought the last time we were together things were quite well.”

She smirked. How anxious wo
uld he have been to speak with her had she not come downstairs and confronted him? Would he at this very minute be on his way to some
ton
event that he was now welcomed at due to her influence? She raised her chin. “You left.”

He frowned. “Did you not get my note?”

“Oh, yes.” She sneered. “I must congratulate you on that one. At least this time I received a note.”

“Whatever are you talking about?”

Avoiding his gaze, she wandered around the room dragging her fingers over the furniture. “Exactly why did you befriend me, my lord?” If she continued to look at him she would be lost. She didn’t want to notice his almost genuine confusion. Didn’t want to give her heart another chance to be broken.

“Mary, I think we have already discussed more than once the attraction we have for each other.”

She snorted and continued on. “You did not answer my question.”

He strode across the room and grabbed her shoulders, turning her body toward him. “I have no idea what has gone on in your brain between the time we made love—”

She looked toward the door. “Lower your voice.”

“—and this evening.”

If only she could trust him. But everything inside her screamed
no
. How could she believe anything he said? He was a man, and men lied. They used you for their benefit. To grab ahold of your dowry, to be accepted into the higher circles of the
beau monde
. She would be crazy to continue this. Better to stop it now before she fell in love with the man.

Love.

Oh, God. She had fallen in love with Redgrave and didn’t trust him one whit.

She drew herself up. “My lord, I believe it is time for you to go. I do not wish to continue this conversation.” Before he could change her mind, she wrenched herself free of his grip and raced from the room, up the stairs, and into her bedchamber.

She leaned against the door, trying to catch her breath, the tears dripping onto her bodice. No. She didn’t trust him. Wouldn’t trust him. No. Never.

…

Redgrave wandered into his dark library and sat before the cold fireplace. Despite his success tonight in ridding his life of Rumbold, the pain on Mary’s face when she’d thrown him out of her house swamped him with such guilt he was unable to do anything but honor her wishes and leave.

He’d done it again, made another woman miserable. He cursed himself soundly for not sticking to his original plan to find a bride whom he would never love and would not love him in return. Why he’d allowed Mary to creep into his heart had him questioning his own sanity. How many times did he have to remind himself that love was not, and never would be, for him?

This plan to find a wife was finished for this Season. Tomorrow he would order his valet, Spencer, to pack his wardrobe, and they would return to the country. Perhaps next year he would try again. For now, all he wanted to do was get roaring drunk.

Roaring drunk had not been such a good idea. Redgrave groaned as he rolled over in his bed, the bright sunlight coming through the drapes his valet had just opened, practically blinding him. Whatever happened to the rainy weather of London? No one needed this much sun first thing in the morning.

For a few minutes he couldn’t remember why he had drunk so much the night before. His head pounded, his stomach was threatening to empty itself on his person, and he felt as though his mouth had turned into the Sahara Desert. What the devil had happened?

“I assume you would like to partake of one of Mrs. Beam’s potions, my lord?” Spencer regarded him with his usual decorum, although the slight twitch of his lips told him Redgrave’s condition was not something for which he held a great deal of sympathy.

“Yes, and close those blasted drapes!”

He rubbed his hands up and down his face.

Mary.

Now he remembered. She had thrown him out of her house just as he’d rejoiced at having Rumbold out of his life. Why was she angry? Yes. Because he’d abandoned her after they’d made love. Given his history with her sister, probably not the best thing to have done but, after he’d received the note from his contact at the docks telling him everything was in place, he’d had no choice.

“You instructed me last evening to pack up everything to return to the country. Since you were a bit confused about it, I just want to confirm that is what you wish to do, my lord.” Spencer placed the glass of Mrs. Beam’s vile potion on the table and stood tall, awaiting instructions.

“Yes.” He took a sip of the potion. “No.”

“My lord?”

Almost as if the potion cleared his muddleheadedness, he saw his situation quite clearly.
What the hell am I doing?
Four years ago he’d allowed Rumbold to take away his choice, leaving him miserable for years. Now he had the opportunity to make his own happiness. And that could not happen if he ran away.

He loved her. Pure and simple. And he was not going to give up without a fight.

No doubt he wasn’t worthy of Mary, but he would spend the rest of his life loving and caring for her.

“No, Spencer. We are not leaving. Please order my bath. I have a very important call to make today.”

Redgrave sounded the knocker on the door to Manchester House for the third day in a row. Each time the butler informed him Lady Mary was not receiving. Today he carried flowers with him. He could have had them delivered, but he hoped bringing them himself would persuade Mary to see him.

So far it hadn’t worked.

“I am sorry, my lord, but her ladyship is not receiving.” The butler started to close the door when Redgrave stopped him by placing his hand on the door. “Thank you, but I am here to see Manchester.”

The butler viewed the flowers in his hands with raised eyebrows.

“The flowers are for His Grace.”

He looked down his nose at Redgrave. “Indeed? Allow me a moment to see if His Grace is at home.”

As the butler ambled down the corridor toward the library, Redgrave toyed with the idea of racing up the stairs to the bedchambers and banging on each door until he found Mary’s. Wouldn’t that cause a scandal?

“My lord, if you will follow me, please.”

Redgrave followed the servant to the library. Once again he found Manchester behind his desk, waving to the chair in front of him.

He sat and handed Manchester the flowers, who regarded him with surprise. “Thank you.”

The door to the library closed, and Redgrave cleared this throat. “Your Grace, do you have any objection to me offering for Lady Mary?”

Manchester leaned back in his chair and regarded him with a certain amount of mirth. “Since my sister refuses to see you, I don’t see how my objections are an issue right now.”

“Do you object?”

The duke pushed his chair back and rounded the desk, leaning his hip against it. “Yes, I object.”

Redgrave’s muscles tightened.

“However, the reason I voice my objection is because I have no idea why my sister objects. I can assure you, she is wont to voice her objection at each and every meal. On the other hand, she won’t tell me why.” He crossed his arms over his chest and grimaced. “I have married off three of my five sisters. The only reason I missed out on the fun and frolic of marrying off Marion is because my father had that privilege. Each and every one of the three gave me the new gray hairs on my head. I had hoped, unsuccessfully it seems, to have an easier time of it with Mary.”

Redgrave stood and paced. “I sense Lady Mary is angry with me for something I either did not do, or did without knowing I did it. Or what it was. That I did, that is.” He paused and looked over his shoulder at Manchester. “Does that make any sense whatsoever?”

“As a married man, I can assure you it makes absolute sense.” Manchester shook his head. “In any event, she is not a child, and I cannot force her to see you.”

“I must see her, and you must convince her to do so. I want to propose to her, and it is in your best interest to help.”

Manchester shrugged. “Why should I care? Except that it would get my last sister married off before I have to worry about my daughter?”

Knowing what was coming, he said it anyway. “Because I compromised her.”

Before he took his next breath he was sprawled on the floor, holding his aching jaw. “Will you send for her now?”

Manchester leaned over him pointing his finger. “Don’t go anywhere.”

Redgrave spoke to the slamming door as he climbed up from the floor. “I have no intention of going anywhere.”

Bloody hell. That hurt.

…

“Enter.” Mary turned from where she sat—brooding—on the window seat in her bedchamber. She was getting as bad as Marion when her eldest sister had hidden away in her room for two years after she had believed Tristan was dead.

Redgrave had arrived once more, but this time she didn’t see him return to his carriage. The vehicle remained standing in front of the house. Which meant he was still here.

“A word, Mary?” Drake poked his head in.

“Certainly.” Mary shifted on her seat and patted the space alongside her.

Drake sat and placed his foot on his bent knee. “Redgrave is downstairs.”

She shrugged. “No concern of mine.”

“I think he is a concern of yours. And I believe you need to speak with him and get straightened out whatever it is that’s troubling you.”

“No. I don’t need to speak with him.”

“Mary, Redgrave told me what went on between the two of you. You need to speak with him, or I will be forced to call him out.”

She drew in a deep breath, and her eyes grew wide. “He didn’t! You wouldn’t!”

“’Tis the only honorable thing to do if he won’t make it right. And from what I’ve seen of the man’s actions the last few days, I believe he does want to make it right.”

“Perhaps I don’t want him to make it right.”

His brows drew together, and his jaw tightened. “Mary…”

She flushed at the tone of his voice, as though she were a child again. And then anger flooded her at Redgrave for doing this. “I will speak with him.” She hopped up and marched across the room, flinging the door open. “Oh, yes, I will speak with him.”

She was down the stairs and into the library in seconds, her skirts flying out behind her. “Why did you tell my brother? What were you thinking?”

Redgrave smiled. “It was the only way to get you to see me. I have been here every afternoon for the past three days. I have scoured London, attended balls, soirees, and musicales looking for you. It was as if you dropped off the face of the earth.”

“Well, I am here. What do you want, aside from ruining my reputation?”

“I love you.”

Her breath caught. That was the very last thing she had expected him to say. She shook her head and licked her dry lips. “No. You don’t.”

He moved toward her, a predator stalking its prey. “Yes. I do.”

“No.”

He reached her and took both her hands in his and bent to one knee. “Marry me, Mary. Make me the happiest man in London. Hell, in the world. I don’t know what happened at Chadwick Manor to upset you, because all I remember is how wonderful it was between us. How much I wanted to hold you and never let you go.”

“But you did let me go. Er, rather you went. Um, left.” What the devil was wrong with her mouth? And why did he look so sincere when she knew he was lying?

“I had no choice. Soon I will tell you the whole story of why I had to leave, but now I want to get up off the floor and kiss you soundly. However, I will not budge until I have your answer. I may very well become a fixture in the room.”

“Drake won’t like that.”

“I doubt he will. And then there’s the problem of meals and bathing.”

She joined him on the floor. “Are you doing this because my brother insisted?”

“Sweetheart, I told Manchester I compromised you so he
would
insist. But I won’t have you forced, either. I want your consent because I love you so much and can’t imagine the rest of my life without you in it.”

“What about Abigail?”

He brushed a curl back from her cheek. “I’ve made my peace with her. She is happily married and living a full life. I want a full life for me, as well. But it will be a truly empty one if you’re not there with me.”

He cupped her chin and, running his thumbs over her cheeks, he stared into her eyes. “I love you. And I hope one day you might love me, as well. Please say yes.”

His head lowered, and he kissed her with an intensity she’d not felt before. His lips, supple and warm, started her heart thumping. Then, as if the sun broke through dense clouds, her world brightened. Life was sunnier. Happier.

He loves me!

Why had she doubted him? Because she was foolish and didn’t trust her judgment, that was why. She slid her hands up his chest and linked her fingers behind his neck. He pulled her closer and slid his tongue along the crease of her mouth. She opened and he swept in, loving her mouth, teasing all the sensitive spots.