The Dandy and the Flirt (The Friendship Series Book 6) Page 2

  She squinted up at him, a dire warning, she hoped. “Hugh, do not force me to involve you in a scene. I require your assistance with an unpleasant circumstance. You are family. I expect you to bow to your obligations like the stickler you are.”

  He looked down his proud nose at her. “You never change and continue to be the most annoying female in the world. Your threat of making a scene is nothing more than a poorly constructed bluff. Nonetheless, I accede to family obligation, as you knew well that I would. But I will be hungry by then.”

  “Fine. Bring a plate to the green saloon. There is a connecting room that Elizabeth uses as a reading area. I will do the talking while you eat your supper. And whether you like it or not, the door will be locked.”

  Chapter 2

  Emily’s luck turned favorable when she discovered that Langston had elected not to stay for the musical portion of the evening. The mild nausea brought on from Lord Deverille’s overuse of cologne, worsened by the wrenching stress of wondering if Langston would make a scene, began to ease. Stomach upset faded to a weary heaviness that she deemed better than unrelenting tension.

  Hugh surprised her by showing up with two plates. He placed the cutlery and china on a deal table and went to close the door. He locked it when she insisted. After draping the table with a serviette, he pulled up chairs. When Emily declined to sit, he did and began to eat.

  Indecision made a brief incursion into her determination but was quickly ousted with the knowledge that this was no time for weakness. There was too much at stake. She forcibly relaxed the stiffness across her back and shoulders. The problem was—now that she had him here—she wasn’t sure how to proceed. As Lord Deverille had said, dealing with Sir Hugh could be problematic.

  Emily watched him slice ham and begin to methodically work his way through cold meats, pastries and fruit. “Your appetite has always astonished me. How do you stay so fit?”

  He pushed an unappealing bit to one side. “I’ve no idea. This lobster pastry is a masterpiece. Do you think Lady Asterly would be annoyed if I tried to woo away her undercook?”

  “I would advise doing nothing to overset her. You know how protective Lord Asterly can be. Ask her first, if you are serious.”

  “Quite serious. My chef in town is excellent, but I need someone with a light hand for pastry at Callander.”

  Delaying the topic and reason she’d asked for a private meeting, she asked, “You still have the shooting lodge on the lake?”

  “Yes. I’ve rented everything else and live there when not in town. Beryl asked to add a wing off the south-facing side, which turned out a vast improvement. Other than that, it’s the same as when you visited last.”

  She went to the window and fiddled with the flowers in a white and blue porcelain vase. “It’s been so long. Over a decade. Are your boys there or here with you in town?”

  “Scotland’s countryside is a better place for boys than the dirt of the city. Are you going to have your plate?”

  “I’ve no appetite. Please help yourself.”

  “Much obliged. Singing always leaves me famished. What is it that makes you ask to meet in private? If I didn’t know you better, I would think you were trying to compromise me.”

  His accuracy made her wits scatter. Her smile felt forced when she turned to look at him. His attention stayed on the disappearing food. After a slow breath, she decided on the truth. Hugh was a boring fellow but he was no ogre and a gentleman to the core. She could rely on his character and sense of justice.

  “I expect you know that George got himself involved in some rather deep play not long before he died.”

  Hugh reached for the serviette she hadn’t used and dabbed his lips. “Yes. Is that why you’ve sought me out? Is there a financial embarrassment?”

  She took a few steps back to the table. “Not precisely but that has been an ongoing issue. An additional problem has occurred for which I seek your advice, more appropriately, your assistance.”

  He stood and set aside the serviette. “I wish you would have come to me before this if you were in financial need. Forgive me for saying so, but I have been led to believe that some of your liaisons provided financial assistance.”

  Outrage seared a path through her chest. “Sir, are you suggesting—”

  “Emily, please, that was poorly done of me. Forgive the blunder, but there is nothing wrong with extending gifts to one’s friends.”

  “You assume incorrectly, Hugh. Other than the occasional offer of covering travel expenses, I have relied entirely on my own funds since George’s death.”

  Hugh studied the Persian carpet. “I see.” After a slight shake of his head, he looked up. “Which means that you’ve been subsisting on very little. I must tell you that it gave me great satisfaction and pride that you covered all of his debts, and equal sadness that in order to do so, you sold the house in Yorkshire. That could not have been an easy task. May I be blunt and ask what you have left?”

  “Enough for a few months of comfort if I must stay in a hotel. Friends have been generous with their invitations to country parties and to stay with them in town. The state of my financial affairs is not why I asked you here.”

  “Then your purpose must indeed be serious.” He gestured to a couch. “Shall we sit?”

  “If you have finished your supper.”

  With a rueful smile, he led her to the couch. “Yes, and yours.”

  After they were seated, he waited for her to speak. Thoughts jumbled through her head. Sorting them out wasn’t easy, and she was glad that Hugh became a patient man now that his appetite was satisfied.

  When she couldn’t collect her thoughts, he started the conversation. “I’m curious, is this about Blake? Had you expected an offer?”

  “Absolutely not. I broke it off with him, and if he’s putting it about that he cast me off, I’ll have his head for it.”

  “I’m relieved to hear it, Emily. I feared that he might have broken your heart. War hero he may be, but that does not make him someone I would call friend.”

  She searched his face with a narrowed gaze. “What has he done to you? I noticed the cut from across the room.”

  Hugh checked the front of his vest, as if a crumb would dare to find its way there. “That is a private matter. Suffice it to say that I am glad you are well rid of him. I fail to comprehend why any woman would want him for a lover.”

  “And you are not a woman.” When he opened his mouth with a rejoinder, she stopped him. “No more talk of Langston Blake. We are here to solve a problem of mine, and now that I think on it, also one of yours.”

  “Of what do you speak? I have no problems.”

  “On the contrary, Hugh. You have two of them.”

  When he glared at her with the stare he supposed scared away encroaching mushrooms, she snorted a laugh. “You can be such a twit, Hugh Exton-Lloyd. Everyone knows about your boys scaring off every female you try to marry. I know of two attempts and am willing to wager this quarter’s income that there have been more. How many?”

  He unsealed pinched lips to mutter, “More than two.”

  “Spineless creatures. They aren’t worthy of your name. So the boys are missing their mother and making the world pay for her loss. They have every right to be angry, Hugh. Beryl was an angel. Utterly irreplaceable. You chose the most perfect girl in the world to marry and have your sons. Is it any wonder they miss her so terribly?”

  “I’m determined, Emily. I have sympathy for their loss. How could I not when it is the same for me? But they must not behave so outrageously. Do you know what they did to poor Honoria Bagdely?”

  Trying not to smile, she asked, “Spiders in her sheets?”

  “She never stayed overnight. She fled, ran, I tell you, shrieking from the house. My brats threw a snake on her lap.”

  Emily bit the side of her lip to stop from laughing. Those dreadful scamps. She collected her humor, banishing it to inquire, “And how did you punish them?”

  Hugh
got up from the seat and went to stand at the table, his back to her. Emily was immediately sorry she’d teased him about his sons. From the couch, she said, “I’m sure that was more difficult for you than it was for Waldo and Howie. Hugh, we’ve both lost our spouses. We’re adults and it was difficult to endure such loss. Imagine what it must be like for the tender hearts of youth.”

  “You would have a more intimate understanding about that than I, but I have imagined, Emily. That is why I tried to remarry, but it’s as if they will do whatever they must to not have their mother replaced, and yet, it must be done.”

  “As I said, someone like Beryl cannot be replaced.”

  He turned around, surprising her with a brief display of his distress, which he quickly wiped from his face. “They’ve run off nurses and tutors. The servants are terrified of them. When I’m away, one of the scullery girls manages to get them into clean clothes and to eat properly. For months, they refused. Went scavenging at night, found a way to break the locks on the larder.”

  While Hugh recounted more horror stories, Emily’s mind whirled with ideas and solutions. Getting Hugh to marry her wasn’t going to pose the problem she thought it might. The poor man was desperate under all that sangfroid. Explaining why she needed to marry him posed a stickier problem. She jerked her attention back to him when she realized that he was no longer talking and now studied her with uncomfortable suspicion.

  She swallowed when he softly asked, “What is going on in that head, Emily? You didn’t ask me here to talk about my domestic difficulties.”`

  “Cards on the table, then. Hugh, I’m asking you to marry me. I will be able to handle your boys.”

  To her surprise, he didn’t scoff or appear aghast. He stared down his imperious nose and demanded, “Why? And don’t try to convince me that this has anything to do with my sons. I’m asking why you want to marry me, specifically, Emily. The truth.”

  “I’ve never lied, Hugh. I might on occasion stray from an exactitude or not answer precisely—”

  “Which is what you’re doing now. Why, Emily?”

  She huffed out an exaggerated puff of annoyance. “If you insist, I’m in an interesting condition.”

  Chapter 3

  Hugh gave his backside a mental kick. After all the years he’d known Emily, he should have suspected. She’d spent the years since her husband’s death flitting from one romance to the next. This was bound to happen sooner or later. That she wished to marry him was the surprising aspect. Boggling, in fact. There must be more under the surface that she wasn’t telling.

  “Emily, I am not the naïve boy I once was. You’ve never much cared for my company. Before you argue, allow me to furnish the funds for you to go somewhere on the Continent until you find a family to adopt.”

  She was across the room, pressing her front against his chest in the next instant. Bristling with outrage, she snarled, “No! That will never happen. This is my child. If I have to live on the streets, I will. No one is taking my baby from me.”

  Taken aback by her vehemence, he retreated a step to allow her room to calm her temper. “If that is what you want, Emily, I understand. Anyone with feeling must. It’s unusual, that’s all. I mean to say, women don’t usually wish to keep a babe from the other side of the blanket.”

  A chill spread throughout his chest when her eyes filled with tears. In a congested voice she cried, “This baby will not be a bastard, do you hear? Never! I’ll find someone to marry me if you won’t.”

  “Emily, calm yourself. Let’s think this through. Sit down. May I get you a glass of wine? Or something else?”

  She shook her head. A lock of near-black hair slid out of place and draped over her bare shoulder. Tears continued to slip from her velvet brown eyes and slide down her cheeks to drip off the gentle curve of her jaw. A sparkling drop trickled its way down and over the swell of her left breast.

  He’d noticed something different about her this evening—had registered the alteration from across the room where she’d been sitting with Deverille. He hadn’t seen her since the Fall season last year, but the difference was there. To him, at least.

  As a girl, Emily had developed early into womanhood, and from that point on, boys and men had trailed her everywhere. It wasn’t that she was a beauty. Her looks were passable enough. It was a certain something, a vibrant sensuality that was no way contrived. And yet, tonight, he immediately noticed that something about her had changed and it was somehow familiar. Beryl had been pregnant almost continuously for the eight years of their marriage, miscarrying pregnancies between the births of Waldo and Howard. Now that Emily had confessed her problem, he realized that he’d recognized her condition.

  He gestured toward the couch. “Emily, please sit. May I speak plainly?”

  “As long as there is no more talk about giving away my daughter.”

  “A girl? How can you be certain?”

  She answered strangely. “Because it must be, and I apologize for the intensity of my emotions. They have been ruling me lately.”

  He’d never seen this fragile side of her and was careful not to touch her, didn’t allow the dress material contact with his leg. She continued to silently weep, and he felt sorrow and shame that she might be doing so because of his clumsy way of handling this delicate situation.

  “Cousin Emily, I’m going to speak plainly, perhaps even make you angry with me again, which to my way of thinking, is easier to endure than suffering through your tears.”

  “May I have your handkerchief?”

  “Certainly. And my advice, if you still wish it.”

  After using the handkerchief, she kept the linen balled in her fist. “I do wish it. Even if we did not have family connections, I would value your counsel as a friend.”

  “Very well then. I can honestly say that I find it remarkable that you’ve not encountered this problem before now. You’ve never lacked for companionship.”

  The bristly side of her nature returned. “Which is another way of chastising me for enjoying the company of men. Well sir, no one scoffs at men when they show a greater proclivity for sex than I ever have. I can see no wrong in a woman embracing what men take pleasure in without suffering censure. Many men boast of their conquests. I never have.”

  “You purposely misunderstand me. A gentleman is required to take his enjoyment with a measure of protection and responsibility.”

  Her dark eyes sparkled with outrage when she shifted on the seat to confront his statement. “Do not assume that other men are honorable because you are. Men rarely act responsibly, and the fact is that I’ve always wanted a child. I’d been told I was barren. How could I have thought otherwise when George and I tried daily to have a child?”

  He masked his discomfort with this revelation. “Emily, I’m not sure you need to express yourself with such candor. I comprehend that you sought out motherhood with other men.”

  “Not motherhood. I just told you that I thought I was barren.”

  “Let us move on, shall we? So you do not wish to give up the child—”

  “Daughter.”

  “Very well, your daughter, for adoption. What about the father? Is he in a position to offer you protection or marriage?”

  “Hugh, don’t you think I would have gotten him to marry me if he were acceptable?”

  “I see.” He paused to consider everything she had said before replying. He already knew his answer but needed a moment to be sure. “Then perhaps your reasoning is sound. You need a father for your child and I need a mother for my sons.”

  “I knew you would be sensible about this. You agree then, to marry me?”

  He considered it for another moment. Perhaps they could unite over the common ground of mutual needs. He had the obstacle of setting aside his lack of trust from past experiences with her. He had to remember they were long past the years of squabbling children. He assessed the hope gleaming in her eyes.

  “What I honestly think is that it could be disastrous, but for the
sake of the children, we might muddle through.”

  She gave him a tremulous smile. “I have a condition.”

  Leery, he asked. “And that would be?”

  “You must promise not to take my daughter from me. Not ever, for any reason. Not if the father comes forward and demands it. You look appalled. That is a good sign.”

  “It is most certainly an appalling thought, taking a child from its mother. Do you presume to insult me, madam? Are you reverting to our childhood when you habitually resorted to ridicule and insult?”

  “No, and I’m sorry, for then and now. Please understand. So many mothers have had their children taken away or have been separated from them by cruel husbands. I must marry someone I can trust to never do that.” Before he could assure her, she added, “And Hugh, I shouldn’t have to tell you that I’m not the sort to interfere in your personal activities.”

  He flung up a hand. “Stop! Emily, please, enough.”

  She looked up at him, her eyes huge with a plea. It was so unlike the confident, brash Emily he knew. First and foremost, she was pregnant and near indigent, but she’d also supplied the answer to the problem of finding a mother for his boys. They’d inherited his stubbornness and wouldn’t give up on whatever battle they waged until they’d met their match. The stalwart, fearless girl of his youth wouldn’t be frightened off by his hellions. She’d thrown so many shocking ideas at his head, but at the same time offered the solution to his dilemma.

  And then there was the problem of her admitted proclivities. That had to be addressed. He wouldn’t be made into a public laughingstock by his wife. He opened his mouth to say so, but she, as usual, was ahead of him.

  “Hugh, I can see every objection running through your mind and can promise you that there will be no cause for concern. Your boys need a mother. My child needs the protection of a legal father. For that, I promise to remain true to my vows, as I did with George. But that does not mean I expect you to honor yours. You never cared for me when we were children. I doubt that’s changed.”