Kitabı oku: «Regency Rogues: Stolen Sins», sayfa 2
‘Shocking, certainly,’ she allowed, unsettled to have the radical nature of his positions confirmed—if what Proctor said was true. ‘But Papa has always favoured an open exchange of views, even if the two parties cannot ultimately agree. I doubt I could be endangered just by talking with him.’
‘Perhaps. But a man with such extreme political views might have equally radical social ideas—advocating Free Love and the abolishment of marriage, perhaps. I wouldn’t trust a lady in his company, certainly not alone in a private room.’
Did Hadley believe in Free Love? No wonder he seemed wicked! The naughty idea sent a spark through her still-simmering senses. Oh, she could readily imagine making free with him!
She shook her head to rid her mind of the lusty—and pointless—thought. She had nothing more erotic in mind for her future than directing Papa’s dinners—and perhaps throwing a kiss to a voter.
Turning back to Proctor, she said, ‘At a busy inn, with the door to the taproom standing open? Hardly a convenient site to lure someone into impropriety. Although I wouldn’t mind debating Free Love and the abolishment of marriage with him,’ she added, watching Proctor’s face.
At his look of horror, she laughed. ‘Relax, John, I’m teasing! Though it serves you right, trying to lecture a woman of my age about her behaviour. How did the canvassing go? Does Michael think he’ll hold against Reynolds?’
It took only that bit of encouragement to launch Proctor into a detailed explanation of how the campaign had fared in the rest of the town.
Normally, Maggie would have listened with rapt attention. Today, however, her mind kept drifting back to a certain gentleman with vivid blue eyes and a seductive smile that had made her feel more like a desirable woman than she had since…since the debacle with Sir Francis.
That memory ought to apply a fast brake to this runaway carriage of attraction. Recalling Hadley’s flowery last words, she frowned.
Of course it had been gallantry. What else could it have been? They’d barely met, after all. And handsome as he was, he surely was accomplished in the fine art of flattery, and of persuading women who should know better that he found them more desirable than he did.
She sighed. It seemed she was a slow learner.
And yet… She had not imagined the spark that flared before them. She might have little experience, but she could still remember that enchanted time, when love for her childhood companion Robbie had transformed into something more, a layer of desire enveloping the friendship and tenderness. Ah, the mesmerising beauty of touch, the thrill of surrendering to passion, the ecstasy of possession.
How she ached for its loss!
No, she was not imagining the physical response she’d felt. But did Hadley truly find her desirable? Since an affair was too dangerous to contemplate, was there any point in pursuing this further?
Common sense warned to avoid a man who might prove such a temptation. But surely life was meant to be experienced, not hemmed in by caution. Such pleasures as it presented should be grasped greedily, before they were snatched away—losing Robbie had taught her that, too.
She was seven-and-twenty, a widow unwilling to risk her heart by marrying again, and she might not have many more opportunities to be tempted.
His seductive person aside, Hadley was a fascinating man, with views and values she would be interested to debate. From the not-so-flattering words his half-brother had dropped about him, she’d expected he might be something of a wild man, and he did have an untamed essence about him. An aura of purpose, too, with a trace of impatience, as if he were in a great hurry to do important things. And there was more than a trace of anger smouldering under the surface, particularly when he mentioned his half-brother.
Or was that just the passion that seemed to simmer in him? Recalling it sent a response swirling through her, and suddenly the carriage seemed too hot.
Yes, she would see more of him, she decided. He addressed the Commons frequently, her father said. Popular as he was, there was no question that he would be re-elected to the next Parliament. If she visited the Ladies’ Gallery after the sessions began again in June, she would surely hear him speak.
Before she heard more of his politics, though, she ought to learn more about the man. If he truly were dangerous, it would be best to know beforehand just how much of a risk he might pose.
But who to ask? Papa, who abhorred gossip, would be unlikely to tell her more than the bare minimum about Hadley’s background.
Then she recalled just the person who would happily spill every detail she might want to know. As soon as she returned to London, she decided, she would pay a call on her great-aunt Lilly.
Lounging in his chair, Giles took his time finishing the home brew, which was as excellent as advertised. So he’d met the renowned Lady Margaret—and found her as witty and even more attractive than Davie had pronounced her.
He had to admit, he’d hoped to see her. When the four friends had drawn up that list of the boroughs to canvass, he’d chosen this one because it was known to be controlled by her father—and she was known to often canvass on behalf of his candidates. After the discussion of the possibility that she might marry George, and Davie’s description of her, he’d been curious to meet the woman.
As he’d approached her carriage, he’d been impressed by her engaging smile and the ease with which she mingled with the crowd, by her obvious enjoyment of bantering with them and their enthusiastic response to her.
And then he’d caught her eye.
He shook his head, bemused. Some curious sort of energy had flashed between them, literally stopping him short. Despite the press of people, the babble of voices, the stamping of hoofs and rattle of passing carriages, he’d had the ridiculous feeling that nothing existed in the world but the two of them.
He didn’t remember walking closer, but suddenly he was beside her, unable to keep himself from smiling, compelled to touch her—even if all that was permissible was for him to shake her hand.
He hardly recalled what he’d said to her during their interlude at the inn, and could only hope it hadn’t been utter nonsense. He remembered only two salient points from their conversation: her father approved of him and she wasn’t going to marry George.
The relief he felt about the latter was surely excessive.
He couldn’t recall ever feeling such a powerful and immediate connection to a lady—and had no explanation to account for it. She wasn’t a beauty in the traditional sense. Her hair was chestnut, not gold, her figure rather taller than average, her face longer than oval, with a generous mouth and pert nose decorated with freckles. But something in those vivid green eyes had sparked a physical attraction that went straight to his loins and drew him to her like a thirsty man to a cool, clear stream.
Though he was too bitterly conscious of his mother’s fate ever to become a rake, he was hardly inexperienced, having enjoyed his share of discreet liaisons, always careful to take precautions to protect the lady. He wasn’t some green lad just out of university, susceptible to being bowled over by an attractive woman.
In sum, he couldn’t figure out what it was about Lady Margaret that had struck him so profoundly.
He did know he would seek her out again, if only to see if his unprecedented reaction would recur a second time. Or whether upon further acquaintance her attractions would seem no more remarkable than those of any other pretty, intelligent lady.
He paused a moment, frowning. Although Lady Margaret had emphatically disclaimed a relationship, if the newspapers had been puffing off a possible match between her and George, they must have been given some encouragement for the notion—very possibly from his half-brother. Marrying into an important political family would be just the sort of thing George would see as a prudent step towards the career as a government leader he coveted.
The prize pullet he’s bartering to install in his hen house. Giles recalled her words with a chuckle. She certainly deserved better than that.
If associating with a woman George might have marked as his own caused problems with his half-brother, so be it. Pursuing this fascinating lady would depend on his—and her—inclinations alone.
Chapter Two
A week later, the butler ushered Lady Margaret into the front parlour of the Grosvenor Square town house of her great-aunt, the Dowager Countess of Sayleford. ‘I’ve ordered a full pot of tea and a plate of biscuits to sustain us,’ her great-aunt declared after receiving her kiss on the cheek. ‘Make yourself comfortable, and tell me all about the campaign in Chellingham.’
As her great-aunt knew well, her preferred topic of conversation would normally be the elections. Though Maggie was fairly bursting with curiosity about Giles Hadley, she didn’t want to open herself to the questions—to which she didn’t have answers—Aunt Lilly would certainly fire at her if she delayed discussing politics to make enquiries about a gentleman.
So, though she had shockingly little interest in conveying the results in Chellingham, she dutifully gave a brief recitation of what had happened in the campaign.
‘Glad to hear Armsburn held the seat,’ her great-aunt said. ‘My sources with an ear to Parliament tell me that one of the Grey’s government’s primary aims will be to eliminate boroughs like Chellingham that are controlled by the local landowner.’
‘Yes, and I’m afraid it’s virtually certain a bill to that effect will pass. I found the county full of inflammatory rhetoric! Even in normally placid Chellingham, there was alarming…disruption.’
‘Disruption?’ her great-aunt repeated, frowning. ‘What do you mean? Surely you weren’t endangered!’
‘No, not really. Oh, there was a scuffle in the street next to my carriage between two rival parties, some of whom had imbibed more ale than was good for them,’ she admitted. ‘In any event, I was quickly rescued by a most charming gentleman.’
Her great-aunt’s frown deepened. ‘Where were Michael and Proctor? I would have expected them to rescue you, if rescuing were needful.’
‘They were at another gathering place when the incident happened.’
‘Your father will not be happy to hear that.’
‘No, but there was no harm done, so you mustn’t tell him.’
Her great-aunt eyed her for a long moment before finally nodding. ‘Very well, it that’s what you wish. So, who was this “charming gentleman” who protected you when your kin failed in their duty?’
‘Another Member of Parliament—from the opposition, actually.’ Trying to keep her tone as neutral as possible, she said, ‘Mr Giles Hadley.’
Her great-aunt’s eyes widened. ‘Giles Hadley—you mean Viscount Lyndlington?’
At her nod of assent, her great-aunt continued, ‘Oh, my! Charming, you say? To hear some of the rabid Tories tell it, he’s the devil incarnate!’
‘His half-brother often paints him in that light. But Papa admires him, and I give far more credit to his opinion. It did make me curious, though—the difference between Papa’s view of him and his brother’s, and I do wonder what happened to create such a breach in the family. I’m sure Papa knows, but I didn’t think he would tell me much.’ She grinned at her great-aunt. ‘Whereas, I knew you would tell me everything!’
‘What did you think of Hadley?’ came the unexpected response.
Caught off guard, to her irritation, she found herself flushing. ‘I suppose it’s obvious I found him attractive.’
Her great-aunt raised her eyebrows, a mischievous twinkle in her eye. ‘Since I cannot remember you ever enquiring about any other gentleman, I’d already assumed as much. Excellent! It has been six years since you lost Robbie. More than time enough for you to be moving on.’
‘Don’t be thinking that, Aunt Lilly!’ she protested, raising a hand. ‘I’m not angling for another husband!’
‘Why not? You’re still young, and attractive, and it’s more than time enough for you to be over your disappointment about Sir Francis. And your grief.’
Once, she’d hoped Sir Francis might help her bury the grief—and look how disastrously that had ended. Both episodes being still too painful for her to discuss, she ignored the question, saying instead, ‘I found Giles Hadley…fascinating, that’s all. Those compelling blue eyes seem to look deep within you. There’s a restless energy about him, a sense of anger lurking beneath the surface, to say nothing of what I understand are quite radical political views. He’s certainly different from any other gentleman I’ve known! And yes, he does…attract me. But I’m not about to do anything foolish.’
Her great-aunt looked at her speculatively. ‘You are a widow now. I don’t advocate foolishness, but with discretion, you can do what you want—marriage, or not.’
‘All I want right now is to know more about his circumstances. It’s rather obvious that his half-brother hates him. Not that I’ve discussed him with George, but whenever the opposition is brought up, he never loses the opportunity to get in a dig about his half-sibling. I suspect much of his spleen stems from knowing the viscount will inherit, even though George is the brother favoured by their father. But why, Aunt Lilly? What happened to fracture the family?’
‘It’s an old and quite interesting scandal.’
‘About which, I am sure, you know all the details.’
‘Naturally.’ Her great-aunt smiled. ‘What other benefit is there in having lived so long in the midst of society?’
‘So—what happened?’
‘It began many years ago, just after the current earl inherited. He and his best friend courted the same woman—Giles Hadley’s mother. She loved the friend, not the young earl, but the friend was a younger son with no title or income, and Randall Hadley, already Lord Telbridge, would have both. The friend intended to go to India and make his fortune, but the girl’s family, which was in dire financial straits, wouldn’t let her wait on the possibility that he might one day return a nabob. Understandable, really; he might just as well die of a fever, or be killed in one of the native wars. They pressured her into agreeing to marry Telbridge, which she did ten days after the friend left for India.’
‘Poor lady,’ Maggie said, thinking of how awful it would have been if family duty had forced her to marry someone other than Robbie. ‘And then?’
‘All was well until several years after the wedding, when Telbridge somehow learned that his wife and the friend had stayed alone together at a hunting cottage the night before he left for India. Pressed by the earl, his wife would not deny that they had been lovers—and that she could not therefore assure the earl with perfect certitude that the son she bore him nine months after the wedding was in fact his. Wild with jealousy and anger, he sent them both away. Deaf to any pleas of reason, he divorced her and cut off all support—funds, lodging, even schooling for the boy. He remarried soon after the divorce bill was passed by the Lords, and has since devoted all his wealth and affection to the son of his second wife. As far as I know, Telbridge has not set eyes on the viscount in years. But all the rancour in the world will not alter the fact that since Giles Hadley was born after Telbridge married his mother, and was acknowledged for several years as the earl’s son, under law, he will inherit, for all that Telbridge now shuns him.’
Maggie shook her head. ‘Poor boy! No wonder he refuses to use his courtesy title. But from what you say, he grew up with no resources at all. I would expect him to be a simpleton or a savage, but he seems quite cultured. Did his mother’s family step in to help?’
The dowager smiled thinly. ‘Though admittedly, the scandal of the divorce placed them in an awkward position, I’ve always held that blood should care for blood. The girl’s parents, however—doubtless with a glance over their shoulder at the financial boon the earl had provided them upon the marriage—disowned her. The boy might have grown up a savage, but for the intervention some years later by his aunt who, once she married, persuaded her husband to sponsor the boy and raise him as befitted his station.’
‘Lord Newville?’ she asked. ‘Papa told me he had taken Mr Hadley under his wing.’
‘Quite. The Newvilles took care of mother and son, financed Hadley’s schooling, and sponsored his candidacy into Parliament. After what he suffered at his father’s hands, it’s not surprising he turned into a Radical, committed to limiting the power of the aristocracy.’
‘What happened to the lady?’
‘By all accounts, she was content, living in rural isolation with her son. I expect she hoped that one day the man she loved would return for her. But as it turned out, her family was right about that, if little else. He died in India several years after her divorce, and she did not long outlive him.’
‘Now that his eldest son has made such a name for himself, and knowing he will one day inherit, isn’t it time for Telbridge to make peace with his heir?’
The dowager shook her head. ‘Randall Hadley was always a proud, unyielding man. I think it was more the satisfaction of winning the woman away from his friend, rather than affection for the lady, that led the earl to wed her in the first place, and he couldn’t tolerate the idea that his wife had been touched by another. It’s only thanks to the good sense of Hadley’s aunt that the successor to the earldom won’t be a complete Hottentot.’
‘So there isn’t much chance of father and son reconciling?’
‘I wouldn’t wager on it,’ the dowager said. ‘The earl is too stubborn; his second son, from what I hear, is so jealous and resentful of the heir he takes every opportunity to speak ill of him to his father. As for the viscount, he will inherit whether they reconcile or not. I would expect he has little desire to approach a man who left him and his mother destitute. Certainly, Telbridge has done nothing in the years since to prompt his son—if the viscount is his son—to seek a reconciliation.’
‘Perhaps,’ Maggie said with a sigh. ‘But it is still sad.’
‘Family squabbles are as old as time. Read your Bible,’ the dowager advised.
‘That doesn’t make them less regrettable.’
‘Indeed. However, if you do intend to…pursue an acquaintance with Giles Hadley, I would do so cautiously.’
‘Why do you say that? Surely you don’t think he’s “dangerous”, as John Proctor warned! Even if he should subscribe to Godwin’s theories on abolishing marriage, I cannot see him forcibly seducing a woman.’ She laughed ruefully. ‘He wouldn’t need to.’
‘I’ve heard nothing of that—rather the opposite, actually. His amours have been few, and the ladies involved were treated with great courtesy. No, it’s just that I’d not like to see a lovers’ triangle descend to the second generation.’
‘Lovers’ triangle?’ Her puzzlement gave way to irritation as she made the connection. ‘That Morning Post article again! Surely you don’t give any credence to newspaper gossip. I have no interest in wedding George Hadley, no matter how much he sidles up to Papa!’
‘Though the writers do expend an inordinate amount of ink speculating about their betters, there is always some thread of truth in the reports. Perhaps George Hadley thinks he’s “sidled up” to your father successfully enough that he’s in a fair way to winning your hand. It would be an excellent match for him.’
‘Well, it wouldn’t be an excellent one for me,’ Maggie retorted with some heat. ‘I don’t like the man, and I’m not so committed to the Tories that I would marry someone for their political advantage. Nor would Papa try to persuade me, no matter how much George Hadley tries to turn him up sweet.’
‘Yes, but that’s not the problem,’ the countess continued patiently. ‘Don’t you see? There is no love lost between the brothers. Isn’t it possible that, having read the newspaper reports as the rest of us have, Giles Hadley might seek you out, just to put a spoke in the wheel of his half-brother’s plans? Now, I’m not saying Hadley turned up in Armsburn’s borough with that in mind. Most likely he was in Chellingham for political reasons of his own, met you by chance, and admires you sincerely—why ever should he not? Given the history between the two, though, I would be cautious.’
For a moment, the thought that Giles Hadley might have approached her with the intent of beguiling her so he could crow to his brother about his conquest made her feel sick. That scenario was too reminiscent of the debacle with Sir Francis.
But an instant later, a deep conviction rose up to refute that scenario. Regardless of his reasons for coming to Chellingham, the attraction between them had been genuine—she was sure of that. Whether or not he would pursue the connection because of his brother’s interest in her, or in spite of it, she didn’t know, but the spark lit between them had not been the product of her imagination.
What she chose to do about it, now that she knew his full background, was still up to her. She was no more interested in becoming the bone of contention snapped over by two pugnacious half-brothers than she was in becoming George Hadley’s prize pullet.
And she definitely didn’t intend to risk falling in love.
‘I will be cautious,’ she promised the dowager as she finished her tea and set the cup back on the tray. ‘That’s why I came to talk to you, Aunt Lilly. You always give such excellent advice.’
‘Advice is about all one has to give at my age,’ her great-aunt said tartly. ‘I’ll let you go with one last bit: don’t let anyone worry you into marrying again, unless you truly wish it. I had several offers after Creighton died, but none could hold a candle to him, and I wouldn’t settle for a lesser man.’
‘That’s how I feel about my Robbie,’ Maggie said, her eyes sheening.
‘Not that I didn’t amuse myself from time to time,’ her great-aunt added.
‘Aunt Lilly!’ Margaret laughed. ‘You’ll make me blush.’
‘As if I could, with all you must overhear, spending so much time around gentlemen! But I worry about you, child. You were inconsolable after losing your husband, and then when it seemed you’d found happiness again, the affair with Sir Francis ended so badly. I would so like to see you passionate about life again.’
‘I enjoy my work with Papa.’
‘I’d have you not just “enjoy” life, but be truly thrilled by it—illumined from within! You know what I mean—I can see it in your eyes. If Giles Hadley offers you the possibility of tasting such joy again, don’t let the dull voice of prudence prevent you from furthering the acquaintance. After all, you cannot find what you won’t risk looking for. Just keep in mind the possible complications.
‘And I intend to end this homily with a recommendation about marriage, and you may as well not protest,’ her great-aunt continued, holding up a hand to forestall any objection. ‘Much as I would oppose you being pushed into marriage, neither would I like you to miss out on the blessing of children. A thought to consider, while you’re still young enough to have them.’
Maggie worked hard not to flinch. That was a fact of which she was too bitterly aware.
Masking her discomfort from her perceptive great-aunt by rising, she said, ‘I must get back. I’ve not been home yet, and Papa has a large party coming for dinner tomorrow night for which I haven’t even begun to prepare. He’ll want a complete account of the Chellingham elections, too. Thank you for tea—and your counsel, Aunt Lilly.’
‘You are always welcome to both.’
As Maggie bent to kiss the dowager’s cheek, her great-aunt reached out to pat hers. ‘I pray for your happiness, child.’
Maggie felt the burn of tears and blinked them away. ‘Thank you, Aunt Lilly. If something exciting should happen, you’ll be the first to know.’
Her great-aunt chuckled. ‘With my contacts, I certainly will—whether you tell me yourself or not!’
During the drive from her great-aunt’s town house back to her father’s in Cavendish Square, Maggie replayed their interview over and over. After hearing Giles Hadley’s story, she was more fascinated by the man than ever. How had he reconciled the rural isolation of his early years with rejoining the world of the ton when his aunt had come to rescue him? Did he remember anything of the days he’d lived at his father’s grand estate in Hampshire?
Despite his education and upbringing, if he knew nothing of that estate or its people, how could he become a good landlord to his tenants and a proper steward of the land entrusted to him, once he inherited? Or would he remain in London, furthering his career in Parliament, content to let some estate agent or secretary manage his acres and tend its people? What a tragedy for them that would be!
She would love to ask him about his plans, but their acquaintance was nowhere close enough for her to broach such personal matters.
Then there was the problem of the possible rivalry between him and his brother over George’s supposed pretensions to her hand. Though she was certain there was a genuine attraction between herself and Giles Hadley, she’d already proven rather miserable at discerning whether a man’s attentions stemmed from her charms, or the charms of her lineage, wealth and connections. Would Mr Hadley indulge her curiosity and encourage her interest because he found her as intriguing as she found him? Or if she followed through on her desires, might she be leading herself into another painful disappointment?
Yet, as even Aunt Lilly had implied, youth wouldn’t last for ever. In the years since Robbie’s death, she’d met many gentlemen, without feeling anything like the strong and immediate attraction she’d felt for Giles Hadley. If she let caution dissuade her from at least discovering where it might lead, she might never have another chance.
After all, she was wiser now, more suspicious of attention and flattery than she’d been before the episode with Sir Francis. As long as she kept her head, the worst that could happen by furthering the relationship would be the disappointment of discovering Giles Hadley was not as fascinating—or as fascinated by her—as she’d thought. She felt certain Giles Hadley would never endanger her, or compel her to go where she didn’t wish to follow.
There’d be no question of ‘compelling’, though. Just thinking of the mesmerising blue gaze and the heated feeling in the pit of her stomach when he smiled at her set her pulses throbbing. But surely she was prudent enough to resist the most dangerous of all temptations, and restrict herself to friendship.
She really did wish to know him better…as a friend and companion, she told herself.
As a lover, if you could imagine a safe way to manage it, the voice of honesty answered back.
But only as long as she could invest herself just so far, without any possibility of committing her heart.
The short drive to the Witlow town house ended before she came to a definite decision. So much for thinking herself level-headed! Exasperated with such dithering, she decided as she descended from the carriage that she would attend some debates after the new Parliament convened. If an opportunity presented itself to speak further with Mr Hadley—or he sought her out—she would take it as a sign to proceed.
Because in the end, in that sphere beyond words or logic, the pull she felt to him was irresistible.
