Page 2 of An Accidental Elopement

Mark Walfingham only put up a cackling laugh.

“Marry you?” he laughed. “You could not hold my interest for more than...”

Cecilia did not stay to hear anymore. She hurried out of the pavilion, back through the garden, and stood at the terrace just outside the ballroom doors, trying to look like a respectable young lady.

There were other people on the terrace, and some might have noticed that she came in from the garden unchaperoned, which made it even more important that she remained perfectly still and poised on the outside. Luckily her mother had been training her for this for most of her life and she simply stood staring into the dark garden as she swore that she was done with the Mark Walfinghams of this world.

Now it was time to find a decent and respectable man.

One

Great Farleigh Hall, Somerset, October 1832

Miss Cecilia Gaywood was probably the most delicious woman Archie had seen all year. Perhaps even in the last five years. Her hair was a buttery golden color, her lips a raspberry pink; even her bosom made him think of fresh ripe apples ready for picking.

There were only three problems: She was an innocent and he stayed far away from those. She was about to become betrothed to the Earl of Lambourn who was also attending his parents’ house party. And she was regarding him with a glare that was - to stay in the analogy of food - as cold as one of the ice creams served at Gunter’s.

“Lord Archibald,” she greeted him frostily.

He tried not to cringe as he heard the name that his parents, the Duke and Duchess of Camborne, had saddled him with, although they never called him anything but Archie themselves. Miss Gaywood’s frosty tone was certainly a testament to his reputation preceding him. If she was just the slightest bit perceptive, she would have noticed how he took in her body.

Archie gave a mental shrug as he formally greeted her. Too bad that she was not a young widow. Then he would have no trouble flirting with her and he felt certain that his charm would soon melt that icy stare. It would be too morbid to hope that Lambourn dropped dead within the first year of their marriage. After all, as far as Archie knew, the earl was a couple of years younger than him.

Under other circumstances, Miss Gaywood could have done very well as an actress or a high-end courtesan, but Archie could not bring himself to wish that she was either of those. He had had enough of actresses for the next couple of years after the whole debacle with Lavinia.

And although Archie was the son of a duke and quite wealthy, he had never bothered with keeping a mistress. There were too many women to choose from to spend his nights with the same one over an extended period of time. Even if she was a mistress and not a wife.

Well, there was no reason why he should mourn the loss of Cecilia Gaywood’s attention and affection. When he returned to London in a couple of weeks, he could have his pick of young widows and well... if he had ruled out actresses for the next few years that left the widows. Unless he wanted to take up with other men’s wives and Archie felt no inclination to do so. His father might be powerful, but Archie knew that it did not protect him from the wrath of an angry husband.

He joined Francis Drummond in the corner of the large elegantly styled drawing room. Drummond was a chubby, short fellow with an unruly mane of curly dark brown hair. He had started at Eton a year after Archie, and he knew him to be good company. Drummond instantly started talking about a pet parrot that he had recently purchased. Archie was not exactly certain whether the purchase was simply because Drummond hoped to impress Archie’s sister Hester, or because Drummond was actually interested in the bird.

“It can say all sorts of words,” Francis Drummond said eagerly. “Although most of them are not fit for the drawing room if you catch my meaning. I bought it off of a sailor,” he said in a lower tone of voice.

Archie turned his attention fully towards Francis Drummond at that remark. Cecilia Gaywood had turned her back on him completely and although her figure was shapely, he had no interest in the whole drawing room knowing that he found her attractive.

“Oh, really what kind of words, Drummond? What’s the absolute worst?” he asked.

Drummond actually blushed a bit at this statement. He leaned in towards Archie and had to stand on his tiptoes to whisper into Archie’s ear:

“Suck my cock.”

The unexpected rudeness of the statement made Archie bark with laughter and attract the attention of the entire drawing room. He found both his parents and Hester’s eyes on him; for a brief moment, he met Miss Gaywood’s gray eyes before she quickly looked away.

“I’m sorry, Mother, just a private joke,” he said as he tried to stop laughing and waved his hand to belittle the entertainment. Soon everyone turned their attention away from them again.

“Whatever you paid, I will double it to own that bird,” Archie told his acquaintance and had to wipe tears of laughter from his eyes.

“No, I’m not giving her up, she’s mine,” Francis Drummond told him in the tone of a petulant child and crossed his arms over his chest. Archie had no idea whether Drummond was his sister’s type, but if his interest in birds was not feigned, he just might be.

“It’s a female?” Archie asked, laughter still making his lips quiver.

Francis Drummond nodded. Archie burst into laughter again.

“That’s... why would it... cock,” he tried to explain to a bewildered-looking Drummond.

“What is so amusing, my lord?” a female voice said behind Archie. He turned to see the eldest Miss Drummond stand behind him. She was as tall as her brother but had been luckier with her figure. From their dark hair and stout noses, it was clear however that they were siblings.

“It’s, well, it’s not for ladies,” Francis Drummond quickly said.