Part 1 (1/2)
The Bedding Proposal.
Tracy Anne Warren.
For Leslie-always and again.
Chapter 1.
London, England.
October 1817.
”This party is duller than a Sunday sermon,” Lord Leopold Byron complained, with a sigh.
From where he stood with his elbow crooked idly atop the fireplace mantelpiece, he surveyed the other guests. Not for the first time, he wondered why he'd bothered to accept this evening's invitation; the only amusing activity was drinking, and he could have done that anywhere. At least the champagne was a palatable vintage. Taking consolation from the thought, he drank from the crystal flute balanced in his other hand.
At the opposite end of their host's mantelpiece stood his twin brother, Lord Lawrence Byron. Given that they were identical, Leo supposed they must make a picture, particularly dressed as they both were in black silk evening breeches and black cutaway coats with crisp white s.h.i.+rts, waistcoats and cravats.
Lawrence looked at him and raised an eyebrow, its color two shades darker than his golden brown hair, which fell past his jaw; Leo also tended to wear his hair slightly long. ”Just be glad you aren't actually in church,” he said.
”If I were, at least I'd be able to catch up on my sleep. Rather handy, being able to doze off with my eyes open; fools the vicar every time. Tough to do standing up, though.”
”I can manage in a pinch, so long as there's a convenient wall to lean against. Last time I tried it, though, I started snoring. Great-aunt Augusta caught me and boxed my ears.”
Leo chuckled in sympathy. ”She may be pus.h.i.+ng eighty, but the old gal can still pack a wallop.”
Lawrence nodded. ”I'll wager she could make even the great Tom Cribb shake in his boots.”
Both men grinned for a moment at the image of their formidable aunt taking on one of England's fiercest boxers.
”You can't expect London to be terribly exciting this time of year,” Lawrence said, ”what with most of the Ton off at their country estates. I don't know why you didn't stay at Braebourne with everyone else for another few weeks.”
”What? And leave you rattling around Town all by yourself? I know you've taken it into your head to actually do something with your legal studies, but coming back to London early in order to set up your own practice? It's beyond the pale, even for you.”
Lawrence gave him a wry half smile. ”At least one of us values his education. I happen to like the law; I find it fascinating. And might I remind you that you also studied the law, same as me?”
”Just because I earned a degree in jurisprudence doesn't mean I want to spend the rest of my life pitching my oars into legal waters. You know I studied the law only because I couldn't stomach anything else. Now that the war's over, the military holds little appeal. As for taking ecclesiastical orders-” He broke off on a dramatic shudder. ”Not even Mama can see me in a vicar's collar with a Bible tucked under my arm.”
Lawrence laughed. ”No one could see you in a vicar's collar with a Bible under your arm. The very idea is sacrilegious.”
”You're right,” Leo said. ”I prefer to live a gentleman's life, as befits the son of a duke. And thanks to some sound financial advice, courtesy of our inestimable brother-in-law, Adam, and our brother Jack's friend Pendragon, I can afford to do so, even if I am the fifth youngest of six sons.”
”Only by two minutes,” his twin reminded. ”You know, I've always wondered if the nursemaid didn't switch us in our cribs and I'm actually the elder.”
”Not likely, considering I'm the brains behind the majority of our greatest schemes.”
”The brains, are you? I'll admit you've got a G.o.d-given flair for making mischief that few others can match, but I'll thank you to remember who it is who always manages to talk our way out of the thicket when we land a.s.s-first in trouble.”
”You do have a knack for turning a story on its head.” Leo drank more champagne. ”Which leads me back to this career nonsense of yours. You invested successfully with Pendragon, same as me, so I know you don't need the blunt. Why, then, do you want a job? You know as well as I do that gentlemen don't engage in trade.”
”It's not trade. The law is a perfectly honorable profession,” Lawrence said as he fiddled with his watch fob; it was a gesture Leo knew always indicated defensiveness on his twin's part. ”As for my reasons, it keeps me from being bored-unlike you.”
Leo rolled his eyes. ”G.o.d, save me. Next you'll be telling me I should join you in chambers and hang my s.h.i.+ngle up next to yours. Or worse, take up a cause and run for Parliament. I can see it now: the Right Honourable Lord Leopold, standing on behalf of Gloucester.” He shook his head, smiling at the absurdity of the idea.
But his twin didn't return his grin. ”Might be good for you. You're five-and-twenty now. You could do with some purposeful direction.”
”The only direction I need is to be pointed toward a fresh gla.s.s of wine,” Leo said, tossing back the last of his champagne. ”That and a proper bit of entertainment.”
”A woman, you mean? Maybe you shouldn't have broken things off so soon with that pretty little opera dancer you were seeing over the summer. She was a prime bit o' muslin.”
Leo scowled. ”Oh, she was pretty enough and most definitely limber, but after a couple of weeks, the attraction began to wear thin. Outside the bedroom, we had absolutely nothing in common. Her favorite topics were clothes and jewels and the latest amorous intrigues going on backstage at Covent Garden. It got so that I had begun making excuses not to visit her.”
He paused and briefly drummed his fingers against the mantelpiece. ”I knew enough was enough when she started hinting that she wanted to quit dancing so I could take her on a tour of the Continent. As if I'd consign myself to spending weeks alone in her company. I'd rather be clapped in irons and paraded naked through the streets than endure such tedium.”
Lawrence chuckled. ”I hadn't realized the situation was quite so dire.”
”That's because you were too busy with your own flirtations.” Slowly, Leo turned his empty gla.s.s between his fingers. ”No, if I wanted to set up another mistress, she'd have to be someone unique, someone incomparable, who other men would go to great lengths to possess. Someone like-”
And suddenly, from across the room, a woman caught his eye.
Her hair was as dark as a winter night, upswept in a simple yet refined twist that showcased the delicate, creamy white column of her throat. Around her neck hung a plain gold chain with a cameo that nestled between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s like a cherished lover. Despite the surprisingly modest decolletage of her silk evening gown, the cut served only to enhance the lush curves of her shapely figure, while the brilliant emerald hue of the material cast no illusions regarding her sensuality and allure.
He knew who she must be, of course. He'd heard talk that she might make an appearance tonight-none other than the infamous Lady Thalia Lennox.
Ever since the firestorm of scandal that had erupted around her nearly six years earlier, she'd become both disgraced and notorious. Even he, who had been no more than a green youth reveling in one of his first years about Town, had been aware of the uproar at the time.
The gossip had ignited first over her much-publicized affair, then exploded during the divorce proceedings that followed. Divorces were virtually unheard of among the Ton, and extremely difficult to obtain due to the necessity of three separate trials and an Act of Parliament. Nevertheless, her cuckolded husband, Lord Kemp, had sued against her and been granted a termination of their marriage.
And while a taint of scandal continued to trail Lord Kemp even to this day, the proceedings had turned Lady Thalia into a social outcast. Once a darling of the Ton, she now dwelled along the fringes of genteel respectability, invited out only by those who either were dishonored themselves or simply didn't care what anyone thought of them-or so said the gossips who continued to relay stories of her alleged exploits.
This evening's supper party was hosted by a marquess who was separated from his wife, lived openly with his mistress and most definitely didn't give a fig about other people's opinions.
Frankly, his host was one of the reasons Leo had attended tonight's revel, as Leo had a.s.sumed the party would be wilder and more amusing than it had turned out to be thus far. But now that he knew Thalia Lennox was among the guests, his expectations for a lively evening were reinvigorated.
”You were saying? Someone like who?” Lawrence asked, picking up on the sentence Leo had never finished.
”Her.” Leo set his gla.s.s aside.
Lawrence's gaze moved across the room. ”Good Lord, surely you aren't thinking what I think you're thinking?”
”And what would that be?” he said, not taking his eyes off Thalia, who was conversing with an elderly roue who couldn't seem to lift his gaze higher than her admittedly magnificent b.r.e.a.s.t.s.
”We were discussing women, and, if I'm not mistaken, that's the scandalous Lady K. over there. You must be out of your mind to even consider making a play for her.”