Never Miss a Chance (Kellington Book Two) Read online

  “Then strawberry it is.”

  After they placed their order, Jane turned to the ladies. “How was the shopping? Did you order your trousseau?”

  “What’s a trousseau?” asked Vi.

  “Something you won’t have to buy for many, many, many years because your papa won’t let any boys near you,” said Ned.

  “I don’t like boys.”

  “No words could possibly make me happier,” said her papa, as he kissed the top of her head.

  “Unfortunately, we didn’t get to do quite as much shopping as we would’ve liked,” said Prue. “We had to make a stop along the way.”

  Lizzie nudged her aunt under the table, as the ices were served.

  “Minsberg Millinery?” asked Jane. “I saw a beautiful bonnet in the window earlier today.”

  “No, we weren’t shopping,” said Prue. “It was more of an intellectual pursuit.”

  “A trip to Hatchard’s?” asked Riverton. “I would’ve liked to have joined you there.” He dipped his spoon into Lizzie’s ice, brushing her hand as he did so. It was both innocent and undeniably erotic.

  “The Examiner,” said Lizzie with a sigh. “We stopped at the Examiner.”

  “What?” asked her brother.

  Riverton just stared at her, as he swallowed his spoonful of ice. “May I ask what business took you there?”

  “The same business that took me there before, my lord. I gave them another treatise.”

  The table then erupted with the kind of spirited discourse rarely seen at Gunter’s. The adults were trying to keep their voices down, which made the other patrons strain even more to hear. Alliances were drawn on gender lines. Vi didn’t know what the fuss was about, only that it gave her unimpeded access to the ices around the table because the grown-ups were talking too much to eat.

  In the end, she did get that stomach ache her mother had predicted.

  And so did Lizzie. And so did Marcus. But not from eating too many ices.

  CHAPTER THIRTEEN

  The carriage was exactly as described in the anonymous note. Unmarked, parked at the end of the block. It was obviously expensive and the Earl of Stalford wondered which lady of the ton awaited him inside. The note had been written in a feminine hand, probably belonging to yet another bored matron looking for diversion. He certainly wasn’t opposed to such a thing. Lord knows he’d bullied enough of his peers into submission in Lords by day, then cuckolded them with their wives at night. Or sometimes in the afternoon. Morning assignations weren’t exactly unheard of, either. He just hoped whichever lady awaited him was comely enough to entice him. In truth, it didn’t take much to get him in an amorous mood, but it was always preferable to be able to keep his eyes open.

  He reached the carriage then, as instructed in the note, knocked three times in rapid succession. After a brief pause, but surely longer than it had to be, a voice inside bade him to enter.

  As Stalford entered the carriage, two things became clear. The first was that the lady sitting opposite was quite plain in the dim lighting and was likely something to frighten goats in bright sunshine. The second was that her obvious wealth made her distinctly more attractive. She banged on the roof in an imperious manner to signal the driver. The carriage began to move immediately after being given the signal, which meant her coachman was either highly efficient or scared of his mistress. Judging by her stern demeanor, it was likely the latter. Stalford was a bit nervous himself.

  “You are ten minutes late,” said the lady, whom Stalford vaguely recognized as being an unpopular choice for a dance partner.

  “My apologies,” said Stalford, as he fixed his cuffs and calculated whether he could summon an erection if ordered by the goat frightener – for he had no doubt it would come as an order and not a request – to get one. “Have we been introduced?”

  Irritation flashed through the woman’s eyes, but no surprise. She was probably used to being overlooked. Perhaps in favor of a more comely sister.

  “I am Lady Edith Redmond,” she announced with great importance. “My father was the Marquess of Riverton.”

  Of course, thought Stalford, that prig Riverton’s sister. The elder. He had another sister who was quite a looker, even if she was reportedly of a most unpleasant disposition. This one wasn’t any more personable and had plaguey looks on top of it all. Hopefully he could complete his business with the shrew quickly, whatever it was. Then maybe look up the sister at the next rout.

  “Let me come to the point,” said Edith in a thin, whiney voice.

  “Please do, madam.”

  “Your estates are close to ruin, your luck at the gaming tables is, shall we say, ‘suspicious,’ and will likely see you on a dueling field at dawn. And you are perilously near point non plus, if not there already. Is that an accurate summation?”

  Completely. He resented the fact that some unpleasant spinster had the audacity to confront him and even more surprised to hear her allegations of cheating. Had Riverton heard something? But surely Riverton, being the upright prosy bore that he was, would’ve come to Stalford with the allegations instead of carrying tales to his hideous sister. Unless Riverton was behind this preposterous meeting for some reason.

  “Your recitation of my sins grows tedious. What do you want from me, madam?” he said coolly, then fought a momentary panic. What if she was about to propose marriage? Riverton’s sisters would be extremely well dowered, even the homely one. Especially the homely one. How much would she have? How much would Stalford sell his name for? He’d known for years that his only financial salvation would be a rich bride. But in the imaginings of a randy young man, said anonymous female would be as pleasing in form as she was in an account ledger. Clearly, Lady Edith Redmond wasn’t pleasing in anything but dowry. Stalford would have to ensure his future mistresses were as beautiful as Edith was plain. Thank God he’d have the blunt to do it.

  “Good God man, you look like you’ve taken leave of your senses. And from what I can tell, you have little enough to spare,” said Edith to Stalford’s obvious surprise. It was a rare lady indeed who ever stood up to him. “I have a business proposition for you. I want you to seduce Elizabeth Kellington.”

  Stalford was a born cynic, able to size up most people immediately, which was a decided asset at the tables. But of all the propositions he’d have expected to issue forth from Edith’s thin, pursed lips set in her frowning, fleshy face, this wasn’t one of them.

  “Excuse me? I don’t believe I heard you correctly.”

  “I’m certain you did. And once it sinks in you’ll no doubt be relieved that I’m not suggesting a marital alliance between us.”

  Edith paused just long enough to gauge his reaction. Stalford had the presence of mind to look like he was about to deny the statement, while ensuring he didn’t say anything quite so ridiculous aloud.

  “Just as I thought,” said Edith. “Unable to think with anything other than your cock.” At his look of surprise, she continued. “I see I’ve shaken you out of your lamentably transparent ennui with my language. Good. We have much to discuss and not much time in which to do it. My brat of a sister expects to use this carriage for a visit to the modiste. If we’re late in returning, she’ll blister John Coachman’s ears.”

  “You care for your servant’s welfare?” asked a skeptical Stalford.

  “About as much as you care for your doxies, but whenever our brother hears of us abusing the servants in any way our allowances get reduced. And that I do care about. Mama is hosting a house party at our Kent estate. You need to ensure Elizabeth Kellington is there, then you need to get her to marry you.”

  “While I certainly have no objection to pursuing Lady Elizabeth, I thought she had an understanding with your brother.”

  “Are you always this much of a lackwit? I’m trying to detach my brother from that bluestocking but need help accomplishing it. You take her from him, and I’ll ensure a suitable bride is made available to him.”

  Stalford eyed the w
oman with the abrasive tongue. No wonder Riverton spent so much time in Lords. Who would go home to family such as this? “What do I get out of it?”

  “Besides a rich bride and a powerful brother-in-law? I should think that would be quite enough.”

  “Ah, but I’m a lackwit who’s never been satisfied with ‘quite enough.’”

  Edith considered him for a long moment, her eyes roaming over him appraisingly. In most ladies, it would be seductive. With Edith, he felt rather like a horse at Tattersall’s with problematic teeth.

  “I suppose some sort of monetary reward might be in order, providing you accomplish what I’ve told you to do and don’t muck things up.”

  “How sizable of a reward?”

  “Don’t push your luck, Stalford. You need to reserve as much of it as you can for the tables. Just find a way to get her to the party. You’ll get your blunt when you break her away from my brother. Now get out. Charlotte needs the coach.”

  After banging on the roof again, the coach stopped alarmingly quickly. When Stalford stepped out he found himself on the other side of the park, quite far from where he needed to be.

  “How will I get back to my own carriage?” he asked Edith.

  “If you can’t figure that out, you have no chance in hell of taking that woman away from my brother. Don’t be a total failure, Stalford. It’s quite ugly to witness.”

  With that, Edith slammed the door in his face, then pounded on the ceiling to the beleaguered coachman. Stalford barely had time to jump out of the way.

  The woman had more personality than her brother. He’d give her that. But then, most people did.

  * * *

  “I cannot believe,” said Lynwood, for what Elizabeth thought was surely the sixth or seventh time, “that you would be so foolhardy again!”

  Ever since arriving home a quarter of an hour earlier, her brothers had been taking turns telling her exactly what they thought of her judgment. Or, as they put it, her complete lack thereof.

  “Foolhardy doesn’t come close to describing it,” said Hal. “It’s not enough to spout such ridiculous notions once, but to do so again is beyond the pale. I know you’ve never been in favor of using a switch on any of us, Liam, but I believe now might be as good a time as any to start. I’ll go cut one myself.”

  Riverton took a protective step toward Lizzie.

  “For heaven’s sake, Riverton, I was only kidding,” said Hal. “Although I do think she has less sense than a headless chicken. I’m surprised you’re so sanguine about the situation. Your reputation is at stake now, too.”

  “I believe we should all take a deep breath and look at things more calmly,” said Prue.

  “Maybe that’s her problem,” said Hal. “Too little oxygen to her brain.”

  “My brain is perfectly fine, thank you very much,” said Lizzie. “And I hardly need to take lessons in propriety from a man who had to jump out a boudoir window to avoid an angry husband. Twice in one night.”

  “How do you hear of such things?” asked Hal.

  “I have my sources,” said Lizzie.

  “Lynwood, you really should banish the chit to her room until the wedding,” said Hal. “Then she can be Riverton’s problem.”

  “God help you man,” said Ned to his future brother-in-law.

  “Ned!” said Jane. “Apologize to your sister.”

  “Perhaps,” said Riverton, before the discussion could get even more out of control, “I should have a word alone with my fiancée.”

  Lynwood hesitated, clearly unsure whether to cede his authority, but then relented. He ushered everyone out of the room, then closed the door, leaving Lizzie alone with Riverton.

  During the past week, as Lizzie had been putting the finishing touches on her second manifesto, she’d been motivated by her desire to effect change. Her first manifesto had grabbed everyone’s attention. This was the one that was going to get Parliament to act. To take the issue seriously.

  She hadn’t spared a great deal of thought for how her brothers and her fiancé would react. She’d had a fairly good inkling of their likely response, but figured there’d be a great deal of blustering, then they’d rally around her in a protective circle. Her brothers’ reactions had indeed been very much like that. Well, they were still in the blustering phase, but she had faith the protective circle would eventually form.

  But Riverton’s reaction hadn’t been anything like the others’. Instead of blustering, he’d been quiet. Possibly too quiet. During the drive home from Gunter’s, Riverton had barely said a word other than declaring he wanted to go into Lynwood House with them, rather than return to his home. He’d barely looked at her, and the one time she did get his attention, his eyes had been solemn. It had fleetingly passed through her mind that he might end their engagement, although surely not, since an honorable gentleman could never do such a thing. And Riverton was definitely a man of honor.

  Which was fortunate, because regardless of the ambivalence Lizzie might’ve felt originally about her engagement, she knew with a certainty she wanted it to continue.

  So she was left alone with Riverton, anxious to hear what he would say next.

  Riverton studied the woman he was head over ears in love with. One of the reasons he was attracted to her was because she was no meek miss. She would continually challenge him, keep life interesting. But he hadn’t intended life to be quite so interesting in just this way. An adventurous spirit in the bedroom was an admirable trait for a wife. One who continually enmeshed herself in political disputes was another thing entirely.

  “You’ve been quite busy,” he said, breaking the silence of a few moments.

  “Marcus,” she sighed, “if you’re going to ring a peal over me, I’d much prefer you’d get it over with, rather than carrying on in such a somber manner.”

  “Would ringing a peal over you get you to stop your political activities?” he asked.

  “Would ringing a peal over you get you to stop your political activities?” she replied.

  Lizzie waited for him to say that as a member of the House of Lords, it was his obligation to engage in political activities, while it was surely just a hobby for her, similar to needlepoint or playing the pianoforte or some other entirely useless female “accomplishment.” At that point, she’d remind him that it was the very unfair nature of the political system that kept her from taking a seat in Parliament and that if the sexes were truly equal, she would be there fighting for her causes, as legitimately as he.

  So she waited for him to step into her cleverly baited trap.

  He studied her a moment longer. “I can see your point.”

  Then he walked toward the door, presumably to join her brothers who were no doubt eavesdropping in the hall.

  The very reasonableness of his response was most vexing.

  “Where are you going?”

  “To take my leave of your family, then go home.”

  “But we’re talking.”

  That at least got him to stop and turn to her.

  “My apologies. Was there something else you wished to discuss?”

  “I don’t think we’re done with this topic.”

  “I’m not sure there’s anything more to debate. You are clearly committed to your cause and have chosen your course of action. I would rather you stopped those activities. You’re aware of my wishes, but choose to go on as you please. Have I surmised the situation correctly?”

  Lizzie blinked. This was absolutely not the way she thought the conversation would go, even if she couldn’t very well argue with the outcome. “Yes, that seems to be an adequate summation.”

  “Very well.”

  Riverton started for the door again. This time Lizzie closed the gap between them and stopped him with a hand on his arm. It was, she noticed, quite a muscular arm. She could feel his heat through the fine fabric of his coat. She was reminded of how warm the day had been and wondered if he wouldn’t be more comfortable in shirtsleeves. She was growing warmer ju
st standing by him, and was wearing the lightest cotton.

  “I would think you’d wish for your future wife to behave with more decorum,” said Lizzie. When he refrained from speaking, she continued. “You do wish to have me for a wife, don’t you? Or have you changed your mind?”

  The lightest flicker of something flashed through his eyes, which Lizzie found a bit worrisome. If he wasn’t going to exhibit the usual behavior of males in her family, she’d just have to shock a reaction out of him. And there was only one way to do that. She threw her arms around his neck, pressed her body down the length of his and kissed him for all she was worth.

  Lessons learned at the chess board certainly came in handy, thought Riverton as Lizzie’s lips rose to his. His initial thought had been to directly engage her, to try to dissuade her from this disastrous political course. But once it was clear she was spoiling for a fight, he decided to walk away, hoping she’d come after him. And it had worked.

  Now, all he needed to do was end this kiss. In a moment or two. Possibly three. Then, having reeled her in through a forward-thinking strategy, he would calmly explain the error of her ways. After another kiss or two, all would be settled. Her brothers would be in awe of how well he’d handled her. It was really a shame Lynwood couldn’t have employed logic with her years earlier. Perhaps all of this bother with the political treatise might’ve been avoided. He would allow the kiss to continue for another four minutes – six at the most – then put his plan into action.

  Then Lizzie put her hand on the very hard ridge of his cock.

  All thoughts of political discourse flew out of Riverton’s head. Certainly any thoughts of her brothers were far from his mind. All he could concentrate on was the soft woman in his arms and the shy strokes she was giving his cock.

  He deepened the kiss, then pressed her hand harder against him. With a soft sigh that reverberated throughout his body, she continued to stroke, while pressing herself closer to him. He placed his hand on her breast and gently rolled her pebbled nipple. Her muted cry drove him wild.