Page 10 of Tempting the Marquess

Strolling into the room, Caroline then settled herself into an upholstered chair and absently smoothed her violet-sprigged day dress. “Comparing yourself to those of Polite Society is excessively harsh. They are mostly pea-brained henwits. Talking of odd people, what is wrong with your butler? Penn always tracks my movements like I’m eyeing up the silver or about to open his cupboard of body parts.”

“Papa says a good butler is dedicated to protecting household secrets,” Samantha said piously, trying not togrin.

“Wise words from a man who probably needs an entire floor for his skeletons.”

“Oh, please! Mother might, but Papa is an open book. Well, apart from drinking a little toomuch.”

“Dearest, everyone in England knows that. Going bottle for bottle with Claremont is considered the ultimate in impossible dreams, much like enjoying a hackney ride or painless childbirth. When the time comes, just sayno.”

Samantha laughed. “Except your girls are scrumptious. When I see those cooing little cherubs, I think I’d liketen.”

“Well, the making of them is fun. The delivering of them not at all,” said Caroline, then she grimaced. “Hell and damnation, forget I said that. I’m supposed to be a responsible matron, not soiling your innocentears.”

Guilt heated Samantha’s cheekbones. Innocent, she wasn’t. But much like her knife throwing, her indiscretion would remain a secret untold. “Do you, ah, like my bouquets?”

“Gorgeous. Who from? Anyone worthy of admiration?”

“Perhaps. I had to tell Mother a tiny lie about the senders to stop her feelingdown.”

Caroline grinned. “Only a tiny lie, hmmm? Dare I ask who will be forever oblivious to the fact they sent you a bouquet?”

“Sir Eustace Quinn, Baron Vercoe, and Lord Hannery.”

“Really, Samantha. You couldn’t do better than a toothless ancient, a near monk, and a heeled slipper wearer to assuage your mother’s sensibilities? My, you are a dutiful daughter. I hope Lord and Lady C are equally thoughtful when it comes to approving your future husband.”

“I hope so, too. But I don’t hold out much hope. Papa doesn’t like me at all, and Mother generally avoids me like the plague.”

“Oh, dearest,” Caroline began, but Samantha held up a hand and forced a smile.

“Enough gloomy talk. How did you find Almack’s?”

“Tolerable enough. Even Stephen admitted it’s not so bad when married. But I didn’t come here to talk about last night, poppet, I’ve come to escort you to the Havenhursts. Go and fetch your bonnet and pelisse.”

“The infamous bruised drawing room? Hooray! Oh, wait. I’ll have to tellPapa.”

“Let’s go and find himthen.”

A maid stood outside the parlor, dusting an urn. Samantha tapped her on the shoulder.

“Excuse me, have you seen my father?”

“Out the kitchen way, mum,” the maid replied, bobbing a curtsy. “One of them delivery carts arrived before.”

“Thankyou.”

As they reached the kitchens, Caroline sniffed the air appreciatively. “Mmmm. Nutmeg and apple. You know, I’m tempted to stay and cast judgement on your cook’s tarts, but the on-dits awaiting us at Mary Havenhurst’s will be far too diverting. I swear the baroness creeps from window to window with paper and pencil, or owns at least one of the scandal sheets. Actually, my brother is convinced she is responsible for the Glorious George poppycock.”

“Poor Lord Trentham. I can’t believe those poems still appear. He’s married now, and seems happy.”

“He is. Ridiculously so. Him and Louisa complement each other in all sorts of bizarre, sulphur-scented ways. I think some women just cannot stand the fact that not one, but two extremely eligible young earls are well and truly taken. I almost feel sorry for the other London Lords now. The husband hunters are becoming even more determined and ruthless.”

Samantha shuddered. “So I saw. Good grief. Remind me who the other London Lords are again? Stephen, Lord Trentham, Lord Standish…”

“Plus the Marquess of Ardmore, Colonel Lord Robert Langley, and the Duke of Southby. Remember the names, poppet. They’ll be the ones hovering, ready to both halt flirtations and crush your critics to powder. The protector role is taken very seriously.”

“Ummm…they sound terrifying.”

“They are. Also rather overbearing,” said Caroline archly. “There were many occasions when I wanted them all to go and bathe in the Thames, from a starting point of London Bridge…what on earth is that sound?”