A Scandalous Vow (Scandalous Series Book 7) Page 6

  “…and he was nowhere to be found. And then Lord Peasemore came right for us with Fluff in his arms,” Emma explained to Poppy. “I’ve never been so relieved in all my life.”

  “In all your ten years?” Livvie touched a hand to Emma’s head. “Heavens! You have had an eventful day, haven’t you?”

  Emma nodded wildly. “I’m just so glad he’s safe, Livvie.”

  “Me too.” Caroline’s cousin winked at the girl. “And I’m glad you’re safe. Where do you want to sit tonight, Emma?”

  “Livvie,” Poppy began softly. “We always sit in the front so you and Papa don’t block the view of the horses.”

  “Of course, of course.” Livvie shook her head. “What was I thinking?”

  While Poppy and Emma scrambled to the bench at the front of the box, Livvie laughed at the pair. But when she turned back to Caroline, her eyes widened in apparent shock and the smile on her face slipped away.

  What in the—

  Caroline glanced over her shoulder and her breath caught in her throat when she saw Marc, right behind her, close enough to touch her if he was of a mind. His light blue eyes seemed to sear her, and her mouth fell open in surprise.

  “My dear,” he greeted her softly before nodding in Alex and Livvie’s direction. “Kelfield. Your Grace, you’re looking lovely as always.”

  “Lord Haversham,” Livvie clipped out as she cast her unhappy expression upon her husband, who paid his wife’s annoyance no notice in the least.

  And then Marc did reach his hand out and brushed it ever so gently against the small of Caroline’s back, making delicious tingles race across her skin. She thought she might burst into flames right there in the middle of Astley’s. But that would never do, and he should never touch her. So she took a step away from him to preserve her own sanity and put some much needed space between them.

  “Oh! Uncle Marc!” Poppy squealed. And then rushed to the back of the box to throw her arms around the villain’s middle.

  “Miss Everett,” he scolded, tipping her chin up with his hand. His eyes held a delighted little twinkle. “We’ve talked about this. I have a certain reputation to maintain.”

  “Sorry. I forgot.” At once the little girl dropped her arms and frowned up at him. “I mean—Good evening, Lord Haversham,” she said very dispassionately.

  Marc grinned from ear to ear and then reached into his pocket to retrieve a little purple tin. “I don’t suppose you know anyone who likes lavender drops, do you?”

  Poppy began to bounce on her toes. “Me, me, me.”

  “Are you sure?” he asked.

  She nodded her head eagerly. “They’re my favorite!”

  “Are they, indeed?” Marc handed her the little tin. “Lucky for you, I happened by the Sugar Plum today.” Then he gestured to Emma, still on the bench. “But don’t hoard them all, Poppy. Make sure you share with your friend.”

  Poppy looked as though she wanted to hug him again, but she kept herself from doing so. “Thank you, sir!” And then she rushed back to the front of the box and plopped down next to Emma.

  “Beware of Greeks bearing gifts,” Livvie muttered under her breath.

  But Caroline heard her and she was certain Marc had too as the corner of his handsome mouth turned up just a bit, not that she wanted to notice that his mouth was handsome or how her traitorous insides turned to mush when he smiled. But she, apparently, couldn’t help it.

  “Haversham, why don’t you join us this evening?” Alex said, acting as though it was just happenstance that Marc had stumbled upon them and that it hadn’t been some plot the two of them had devised. They must think Caroline and Livvie were idiots.

  Caroline blew out a breath and leveled her expression on the duke who had been one of David’s oldest friends. What in the world was he playing at? And after he had been very adamant about Caroline not playing matchmaker for him, once upon a time. Certainly Alex didn’t intend to meddle in her life. The hypocritical duke.

  A decent man would say something like he didn’t want to intrude or something else along those lines, allowing Livvie or Caroline to either invite him into their midst or turn him away. So of course, Marc said…

  “I’d like nothing more.” And then he had the audacity to wink at her.

  Blast him. She wanted to slug him. And she never felt that way about anyone. No one else ever got under skin the way he did. No one else ever drove her to the edge of her sanity. And no one else ever looked at her as though he was constantly imaging her naked, which reminded her that she had seen him completely naked. And he had been quite remarkable.

  But that didn’t mean that she had to endure him or his highhandedness. “Well, I would like a word with you, my lord,” she grumbled.

  He offered her his arm and said, “I am always your most humble servant,” echoing what he’d said to her in his bedchambers a few days before.

  Caroline did not take his proffered arm. Instead, she brushed past him and started for an alcove near the side of the amphitheater on her own accord, confident that he followed in her wake. She could, after all, feel his gaze on her back. Finding a fairly private corner, she spun around on her heel and speared him with a look. “What exactly are you doing here?”

  “At Astley’s?” he asked with feigned innocence. “Well, I’d planned on taking in tonight’s performance.” Then that familiar glint lit his light blue eyes once again. “What exactly are you doing here?”

  The obnoxious man. Caroline narrowed her eyes on him. “So I suppose you didn’t pester Alex for information about my whereabouts tonight? Is that what you’re saying?”

  He shook his head. “On my honor, I did not ask him a thing.”

  “Uh-huh.” He had no honor, he never had. “So that little display with Poppy and the lavender drops was just happenstance, was it? You just happened upon us completely on your own?” Did he honestly think she was so gullible?

  A wolfish smile settled on Marc’s lips. “Worried I don’t have something for you to suck on, my dear?”

  Something for her to suck on? Caroline’s face heated in a flash and her heart increased its beat. “You are vile,” she accused.

  “Flatterer,” he replied as he retrieved another little tin from his jacket. “Lemon drop? Or did you have something else in mind?”

  Heavens! It was hot as blazes all of a sudden and…

  “I’m certain I could be talked into something else if you’re offering,” he added silkily.

  In his wildest dreams. “Well, could you be talked into sitting somewhere else this evening?” she asked, not even bothering to hide her waspish tone.

  “After Alex asked me to join all of you?” Marc shook his head. “Seems that would be the height of rudeness.”

  Of all the ridiculous… “And you are never rude.”

  “Not to my friends,” he agreed good-naturedly. “Besides, perhaps tonight will give us the chance to start over.”

  Us? “To what end?”

  “We were friends once,” he began. “I’d like to think we could be again.”

  “Friends?” she echoed, not believing him in the least. Marcus Gray always had an ulterior motive. Always. And being her friend was the furthest thing from his mind.

  Marc winked at her once more, confirming her thoughts on the matter. “Well, if we’re being honest…”

  “Oh, let’s.”

  “There is nothing in the world I’d enjoy more than having you in my bed.” He shrugged slightly. “But if friendship is all you’re offering…well, beggars can’t be choosers, can they?”

  The idea of sharing his bed flashed in her mind as did the image of him stepping from the bathtub. Her face flamed anew. “I’m not certain we can ever be friends again, Marc.” Her gaze dropped to his cravat, in the hopes that he couldn’t read her thoughts. “I can hardly even look at you after the other day, after seeing you…”

  Marc tipped her chin up ‘til she met his gaze, the most wicked twinkle back in his light eyes. “If it wou
ld even things out in your mind, I’m happy to gaze at you without a stitch. Just name the date and place.”

  Caroline scoffed. “I do not think that would help.”

  “Only in the interest of our renewed friendship, of course,” he teased.

  She felt a smile tugging at the corner of her lips, which was rather shocking, honestly. She shouldn’t find his less than gentlemanly behavior charming in the least. She should hate him for the rest of her days, but the desire to do so wasn’t as strong as it once had been. “Do you ever believe the drivel that spills out of your own mouth?”

  “On rare occasions,” he said, his teasing tone making her belly flip.

  Oh, for heaven’s sake, she was losing her mind. This was Marcus Gray, the dissolute and wildly inappropriate Marquess of Haversham.

  Then Marc offered her his arm. “Shall we join the others before your cousin sends a search party out for you?”

  Livvie might do just that as she’d despised Marc from the first moment she met him and didn’t trust him at all. So they truly should get back.

  “I’d hate to worry my girls.” Caroline heaved a sigh, accepted Marc’s outstretched arm, and tried furiously to ignore the jolt of desire that washed over her at their contact. “I dare say Livvie may not forgive Alex for this for some time.”

  “Indeed.” Marc agreed as he directed her through the crowd back toward the Kelfield box. “Barred from her bed for at least a fortnight, I have no doubt. What a very good friend he is to make such a sacrifice for me.”

  Barred from Livvie’s bed. Caroline cast him a sidelong glance. “Does everything have to revolve around being bedded when it comes to you?”

  He squeezed her hand on his arm. “Everything in the world revolves around being bedded, my dear. And if it doesn’t, you’re doing it wrong.”

  Caroline had three children. She was fairly certain she’d been doing it right all these years, but maybe he did something differently. She wasn’t going to think on that and then she spotted Rachel in the Kelfield box, watching them; and her daughter’s impassioned speech from that morning rang in her ears once more. “Well, I believe everything in the world revolves around true love, affection, and devotion that lasts a lifetime.”

  She chanced a glance up at Marc to find the most enigmatic expression on his face. “I do hope, my dear, that you never learn otherwise.”

  For the first time in…well, a very long time, contentment washed over Marc. Or perhaps that was just Caroline’s sweet lilac scent. He couldn’t truly be sure as being near her had always put him more at peace. He cast her a sidelong glance, not wanting his pointed interest to be remarked upon any more than it had been over the years, but he couldn’t help it. She was the most fascinating thing in the amphitheater. After all, the trick riders in the middle of the ring could never hold his interest like the lady beside him on the bench.

  The crowd applauded, so Marc must have missed something in the ring, not that he truly cared. Even so, he turned his attention to the entertainment in the center of the arena in time to see the knife throwers take up their marks. Caroline’s oldest daughter slid forward on the bench, clearly enthralled with the performers.

  Marc tipped his head toward Caroline’s and brushed his fingers over her knuckles. “I see she has your adventurous spirit,” he muttered just loud enough for her to hear.

  Caroline tilted her head slightly as though to see him better, her pert little nose scrunched up just a bit. “That’s what I’m afraid of.”

  But there was nothing to fear. Miss Benton would be extraordinarily fortunate to be just like her mother. “The world should be so lucky as to have two of you.”

  “You’re not supposed to do that,” she said, seeming to bite back a smile.

  “I never do what I’m supposed to do.” He winked at her. “But what have I done this time?”

  “You’re being charming,” she accused. “It’s much easier to hate you when you’re your usual self.”

  “Not charming.” He couldn’t help but laugh. “Honest. Love me or hate me, I’m always honest.”

  Caroline’s brow lifted as though she was about to challenge that statement.

  So Marc added, “With you. I’ve always been honest with you.” Which was true. He’d never lied to her…Well, he hadn’t necessarily always told her every single detail, and usually for her own safety, but he hadn’t ever lied. And for a man who had spent more than half of his life lying to everyone around him, often for his own safety, the truth of that was not lost on him. It never had been.

  “I suppose I should be flattered.”

  He dropped his voice even further to keep anyone from overhearing him. “And will flattery get me somewhere?”

  A laugh escaped her, but she sobered quickly. “Behave. Livvie is glaring at us,” Caroline added in a whisper.

  Marc shook his head. “Your cousin always glares at me. Should she ever smile, I’ll be scanning the horizon for the four horsemen mentioned in Revelations.”

  Chapter 8

  Heavens!

  Caroline bolted upright in bed.

  She’d had that dream again. Though this time, she hadn’t been awoken by Emma’s pointy knees jabbing into her ribs. This time, Marc had kissed her. This time, she’d brushed her fingers across his chest. And this time, he’d scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bed, but…well, she’d woken up before he’d done anything else. Drat it all.

  Caroline was breathless at the memory, and she fell back against her pillows, closing her eyes, willing the dream to find her again, but it was no use as she was quite awake.

  Even still, her heart pounded and her core pulsed.

  And then she cursed herself for feeling such things for Marc, and guilt washed over her. She’d never been disloyal to David, not one day of their lives together, not until now.

  She slid from bed, rang for her maid, and started on her morning ablutions. Then she started for the breakfast room and was set upon by Rachel the moment she walked through the door.

  “I think you would agree that I was as happy as I was able last night,” Rachel began. “Just like you asked.”

  And Caroline had a feeling she knew where the conversation was going. “Yes, I think we all had a pleasant evening last night,” she agreed as she made her way to the sideboard to fill a plate.

  “I was hoping my agreeableness might be rewarded today.”

  Of course she was. Caroline bit back a smile as she served herself a bit of eggs. Heavens, Rachel was just like her. If her brother Robert was in London she’d ask him how he’d dealt with her all those years ago, short of marrying her off to the first fellow who asked, of course. “And just what sort of reward did you have in mind, darling?”

  “Well, Violet Ratcliffe and her sisters are headed to the British Museum today. She sent a note asking if I might join them.”

  The Ratcliffe ladies weren’t exactly the most serene girls in London, but neither were they the most boisterous. In fact, Lady Rosalie might be the perfect girl for Lord Peasemore, now that Caroline thought about it. The girl was rather pretty. She came from a decent family. And her grandfather was a duke. So she doubted Her Grace of Newbury could find a complaint against the girl. “I don’t suppose Kitty Greywood will be there?” she asked, adding a slice of ham to her plate.

  Rachel heaved a sigh. “I don’t know, Mama. I wasn’t the one doing the inviting. But Kitty isn’t nearly as bad as you seem to think she is. And if I’ll be excluded from any event because Kitty might be there, that hardly seems fair to me.”

  Caroline turned back toward the table, her gaze falling naturally on her daughter. “What about Lady Ambelcotte? Will she be joining all of you?”

  “I don’t believe so.” Rachel shook her head, making her dark curls sway with the movement. “From Violet’s note, it seems her brother has found himself quite in love and hopes to bump into the object of his affection at the museum. Escorting all of us is his excuse to run into the lady in question.”


  Caroline couldn’t help but smile at that as she dropped into a seat across from her daughter. “Who would have thought his lordship possessed such a Machiavellian mind?”

  “I hardly think he’s that clever.”

  Yes, well, probably not. Though Caroline did applaud the young man’s attempt. Still, if Ambelcotte was focused on his heart’s desire, how keen an eye could he keep on Rachel and his sisters? Caroline gestured to a footman for a bit of coffee and then turned her full attention on her daughter. “You may go to the museum with the Ratcliffe girls, as long as a maid accompanies you as well.”

  Rachel blew out a breath. “I shall make certain a maid accompanies us.”

  “Perfect.” Caroline smiled as her servant poured a bit of coffee, though her focus was still on Rachel. “And I hope all of you will have a delightful day of it.”

  Her daughter excused herself from the room and then Caroline finished her breakfast in peace. Perhaps she wasn’t being fair to Rachel. Other than that ridiculous jaunt into Covent Garden last year with Kitty Greywood, Rachel had never given Caroline reason for pause. All of this would be so much easier if David was still here. But he was gone. She had to come to terms with that. And perhaps find another source for levelheaded advice.

  Robert.

  She smiled to herself. Had her oldest brother been in London instead of Dorset, she was certain she would have already sought out his council. Even so, he was only a letter away. So she made her way to her private sitting room to send a note to the oh-so-staid Earl of Masten.

  My dearest brother,

  I hope this letter finds you, Lydia and the children all doing well. You will be pleased to hear that Adam has settled in nicely to his life at Eton and seems to be enjoying school. I am certain his transition was helped by Peter, so please thank your son for me when you do see him next.

  The girls and I arrived in London last week, and for the most part we are doing well. If I am completely honest, however, I do feel a bit lost this season, though I am sure that is to be expected. You may believe it or not, but this has me actually missing you and your wise council. If you and Lydia ever came to Town, you would find me on your stoop this moment instead of receiving this letter at Gosling.