When he called at Guile's promptly at two, Felix was relieved to find Miss Fleming alone in the foyer, seated on a chaise opposite the door, her bonnet beside her. He was not to know that Margaret had had to exert every last particle of persuasion to achieve this end. And she had been quite unable to prevent her three sisters from keeping watch from the windows of their bedchambers.
As she had expected, she had had to describe His Grace of Twyford in detail for her sisters. Looking up at the figure striding across the foyer towards her, she did not think she had done too badly. What had been hardest to convey was the indefinable air that hung about him—compelling, exciting, it immediately brought to mind a whole range of emotions well-bred young ladies were not supposed to comprehend, let alone feel. As he took her hand for an instant in his own,
They had reached the gates of the Park and turned into the carriage drive. Soon, the curricle was bowling along at a steady pace under the trees, still devoid of any by the earliest leaves. A light breeze lifted the ends of the ribbons on Margaret's hat and playfully danced along the horses' dark manes. Felix watched as Margaret gazed about her with interest. "I'm afraid you'll not see many notables at this hour. Mostly nursemaids and their charges. Later, between three and five, it'll crowded. The Season's not yet begun in earnest, but by now most people will have returned to town. And the Park is the place to be seen. All the old biddies come here to exchange the latest on-dits and all the young ladies promenade along the walks with their beaux." "I see." Margaret smiled to herself, a secret smile as she imagined how she and her sisters would fit into this scene. Feli
"Oooh, Maggie! Isn't he magnificent?" Maribella's round eyes, brilliant and bright, greeted Margaret as she entered their parlour. "Did he agree to be our guardian?" Asked the phlegmatic Sophia. And, "Is he nice?" from the youngest Emma. All the important questions, thought Margaret with an affectionate smile, as she threw her bonnet aside and subsided into an armchair with a whisper of her stylish skirts. Her three half-sisters gathered around eagerly. She eyed them fondly. It would be hard to find three more attractive young ladies, even though she did say so herself. Twenty-year-old Sophia, with her dark brown hair and dramatically pale face, settling herself on one arm of her chair. Maribella on h
Thup, thup, thup. The tip of Lady Hillsborough's thin cane bear a slow tattoo, muffled by the pile of the Aubusson carpet. She was pleasantly impatient, waiting with definite anticipation to see her new charges. Her sharp blue gaze had already taken in the state of the room, the perfectly organized furniture, everything tidy and in readiness. If she had not known it for fact, she would never have believed that, yesterday morn, Twyford House had been shut up, the knocker off the door, every piece of furniture shrouded in Holland covers. Gibson was priceless. There was even a bowl of early crocus on the side-table between the long windows. These stood open, giving access to the beat courtyard, flanked by flowerbeds bursting into colourful life. A marble fountain stood at its centre, a Grecian maiden pouring water never-endingly from an urn. Her contemplation of the scene was interrupted by a peremptory knock in the street door. A moment l
As her gaze rested on the powerful figure, negligently at ease in his chair, she reflected that it really was unfair he had inherited only the best from both his parents. The combination of virility, good looks and power of both mind and body was overwhelming; throw the titles in for good measure and it was no wonder Felix Cambridge had been the target of so many matchmaking mamas throughout his adult life. But he had shown no sign whatever of succumbing to the demure attractions of any débutante. His preference was, always had been, for women of far more voluptuous charms. The litany of his past mistresses attested to his devotion to his ideal. They had all, every last one, been well-endowed. Hardly surprising, she mused. Felix was tall, powerful and vigorous. She could not readily imagine any of the delicate webs satisfying his appetites. Her wandering mind dwelt on the subject of his latest affaire, aside, of course, from hi
"No!" Felix shook his head stubbornly, a frown if quite dramatic proportions darkening his handsome face. Lady Hillsborough sighed mightily and frowned back. On recovering her wits, she had sternly repressed her mirth and sent the three younger Flemings into the courtyard. But after ten minutes of carefully reasoned argument, Felix remained adamant. However, she was quite determined her scapegrace nephew would not succeed in dodging he responsibilities. Aside from anything else, the situation seemed set to afford her hours of entertainment and, at her age, such opportunities could not be lightly passed by. Her lips compressed into a thin line and a martial light appeared in her blue eyes. Felix, recognizing the signs, got in first. "It's impossible! Just think of the talk!" Amelia's eyes widened to their fullest extent. "Why should you care?" she asked. "Your career to
Lady Hillsborough eyed Felix’s unyielding back with a frown. Then she turned to the woman beside her. She had already formed a high opinion of Miss Fleming. What was even more to the point, being considerably more than seven, Amelia had also perceived that her reprehensible nephew was far from indifferent to the luscious beauty. Meeting the grey-green eyes her ladyship raised her brows. Margaret nodded and rose. Felix turned as Margaret laid her hand on his arm. She was watching her sisters, not him. Her voice, when she spoke, was tactfully lie. “If it would truly bother you to stand as our guardian, I’m sure we could make some other arrangement.” As she finished speaking, she raised her eyes to his. Accustomed to every feminine wile known to woman, Fel
Their drive in the Park the next afternoon was engineered by the experienced Lady Hillsborough to be tantalizingly brief. As predicted, the sight of four ravishing females in the Twyford barouche caused an immediate impact. As the carriage sedately bowled along the avenues, heads rapidly came together in the carriages they passed. Conversations between knots of elegant gentlemen and the more dashing of ladies who had descended from heir carriages to stroll about the well-tended lawns halted in midsentence as all eyes turned to follow the Twyford barouche. Amelia, happily aware of the stir they were causing, sat in he maroon leather seat and struggled to keep the grin from her face. Her charges were attired in a spectrum of delicate colours, for all the world like a post of gorgeous blooms. The subtle peach if Margaret's round gown gave way to the soft turquoise tints if Sophia's. Maribella has favoured a gown of the most delicate rose m
Two days later, the ton was still reeling from the discovery of the Duke of Twyford's wards. Amusement, from the wry ti the ribald, has been the general reaction. Felix had gritted his teeth and borne it, but the persistent demands of his friends to be introduced to his wards sorely tried his temper. He continued to refuse all such requests. He could not stop their eventual acquaintance but at least he did not need directly to foster it. Thus, it was in a far from benign mood that he prepared to depart Delmere House on that fine April morning, in the company of two of his particular cronies, Lord Daniel Hammington and Gregor, Viscount Thornbury. As they left the parlour at the rear of the house and enters the front hallway, their conversation was interrupted by a knock on the street door. They paused in the rear of the hall as Rickshaw moved majestically past to answer it. "I'm not at home, Rickshaw," s
While the Duke and Duchess of Twyford and Lord and Lady Daniel exchanged congratulations all around, Lady Hillsborough looked on in disgust. “What I want to know,” she said, when she could make herself heard once more, “is if I’m to be entirely done out of weddings, even after all my efforts to see you all in person’s mouse-trap?” “Oh, there are still two Flemings to go, so I wouldn’t give up hope,” returned her nephew, smiling down at her with transparent goodwill. “Apropos of which, has anyone seen the other two lately?” No one had. When applied to, Millard imparted the information that Lord Byron had called for Miss Maribella just before two. They had departed in Lord Byron’s carriage. Mr. Francis has d
The Duke of Twyford returned to London the next afternoon, accompanied by his Duchess. They went directly to Twyford House, to find the entire household at sixes and sevens. They found Lady Hillsborough in the back parlour, reclining on the chaise, her wig askew, an expression of smug satisfaction on her face. At sight of them, she abruptly sat up, struggling to control the wig. “There you are! And about time, too!” Her shrewd blue eyes scanned their faces, noting the inner glow that lit Margaret’s features and the contented satisfaction in her nephew’s dark face. “What gave you been up to?” Felix grinned wickedly and bent to kiss her cheek. “Securing my Duchess, as you correctly imagined.” “You’ve ties the knot alrea
The clink of crockery woke Margaret. She stretched languorously amid the soft cushions, the sensuous drift of the silken covers over her still tingling skin bringing back clear memories of the past hours. She was alone in the bed. Peering through the concealing silk canopy, she spied Felix, tastefully clad in a long silk robe, watching a small dapper servants laying out dishes on the low tables on the other side of the room. The light from the brass lamps suffused the scene with a soft glow. She wondered what the time was. Lying back in the luxurious cushions, she pondered her state. Her final lesson had been in two parts. The first was concluded fairly soon after Felix had joined her in the huge bed; the second, a much more lingering affair, had spun out the hours of the evening. In between, Felix had, to her lasting shock, asked her to marry him. She
Emma had thought he had taught her all about kissing, but this was something quite different. She felt his arms lock like a vice about her waist, not that she had any intention of struggling. And the kiss went on and on. When she finally emerged, flushed, her eyes sparkling, all she could do was gasp and stare at him.Francis uttered a laugh that was halfway to a groan. “Oh, Emma! Sweet Emma. For God’s sake, say you’ll marry me and out me out of my misery.” Her eyes grew round. “Marry you?” The words came out as a squeak. Francis’s grin grew broader. “Mmm. I thought it might be a good idea.” His eyes dropped from her face to the lace edging that lay over her breasts. “Aside from ensuring I’l
For Francis Cambridge, the look on Emma’s face as he walked into the back parlour was easy to read. Total confusion. On Emma, it was a particularly attractive attitude and one wig which he was thoroughly conversant. With a grin, he went to her and took her hand, kissed it and tucked it into his arm. “Let’s go into the garden. I want to talk to you.” As talking to Francis in gardens had become something of a habit, Emma went with him, curious to know what he wished to say and wondering why her heart was leaping about so uncomfortably. Francis led her down the path that bordered the large main lawn until they reached an archway formed by a rambling rose. This gave access to the rose gardens. Here, they came to a stone bench bathed in softly dappled sunshi
The first thought that sprang to Maribella’s mind on seeing Henry Byron enter the back parlour was how annoyed he must have been to learn of her deception. Margaret had told her of the circumstances; they would have improved his temper. Oblivious to all else save the object of her thoughts, she did not see Sophia leave the room, nor Francis take Emma through the long windows into the garden. Consequently, she was a little perturbed to suddenly find herself alone with Henry Byron. “Anna Kripinski, I presume?” His tone was perfectly equable but Maribella did not place any reliance on that. He came to stand before her, dwarfing her by his height and the breadth of his magnificent chest. Maribella was conscious of a devastating desire to throw herself on that bro
“Sophia?” Daniel tried to squint down at the face under the dark hair covering his chest. “Mmm,” Sophia replied sleepily, snuggling comfortably against him. Daniel grinned and gave up trying to rouse her. His eyes drifted to the ceiling as he gently stroke her back. Serve her right if she was exhausted. Together with Francis and Henry, he had followed the strongly disapproving Millard to the back parlour. He had announced them, to the obvious consternation of the three occupants. Daniel’s grin broadened as he recalled the scene. Maribella had looked positively stricken with guilt, Emma had not known what to think and Sophia had simply stood, her back to the windows, and w
Well, what had she expected? asked that other Miss Fleming, ousting her competitor and taking total possession as Felix bend his head to kiss her. Her mouth opened welcomingly under his and he took what she offered, gradually drawing her into his embrace until she was crushed against his chest. Margaret did not mind; breathing seemed unimportant just at that moment. When Felix finally raises his head, his eyes were bright under their hooded lids and, she noticed with smug satisfaction, his breathing was almost as ragged as hers. His eyes searched her face, then his slow smile appeared. “I notice you’ve ceased reminding me I’m your guardian.” Margaret, finding her arms twined around his neck, ran her fingers through his dark hair. “I’ve given
As usual when with her guardian, time flew and it was only when a chill in the breeze penetrated her thin cloak that Margaret glanced up and found the afternoon gone. The curricle was travelling smoothly down a well surfaced road, lined with low hedges set back a little from the carriageway. Beyond these, neat fields stretched sleepily under the waning sun, a few scattered sheep and cattle attesting to the fact that they were deep in the country. From the direction of the sub, they were travelling south, away from the capital. With a puzzled frown, she turned to the man beside her. “Shouldn’t we be heading back?” Felix glanced down at her, his devilish grin in evidence. “We aren’t going back.” Margaret’s brain flatly refuses to accept