My Scandalous Viscount (9 page)

Carissa laughed harder. “No, it isn’t! It’s all the kick.”

“She’s just jealous,” Beau said knowingly, folding his arms across his chest with a sly nod.

“Don’t be jealous, Min. You can borrow it anytime you like!”

“You two are mad,” Uncle Denbury muttered.

“The Batty Beauchamps,” little cousin Horace suggested.

“Hmm, I rather like that,” Beau replied. The final gift proved a return of his cheeky humor: the perfect gift for a lady of information.

He waited for her reaction as she opened the box and carefully brushed aside the tissue wrapping to discover the next bit of jeweled frivolity he’d bought her.

Nestled in the tissue paper, she found a diamond-encrusted opera glass, so she could snoop in style.

She looked at him in adoring amusement, not knowing whether to laugh or to shake her head at him in chiding.

He grinned, apparently knowing what this gift meant to her. Acceptance of her foible. Affection for her anyway, in spite of her being a . . . gossip.

There, she could admit it.

Then it was time to go, leaving as a resident of her uncle’s house for the last time. It was oddly difficult, even though she was only moving a few blocks away. She’d still be in Mayfair.

Amid the cycle of farewells, she was still nervous about the wedding night ahead. He must have known she would feel that way, which was why he had looked for props to make her laugh to help dissipate the tension.

The touching realization of his kindness also helped put her at ease. If she could just get through their first time with all its uncertainties, then she had to believe everything would be all right. Besides, in her heart, she knew the truth: This man had long since seduced her.

All that remained was to consummate the match.

Chapter 9

A
married man. Fancy that.
Beau was quiet, musing in the carriage on the fact that his rakehell days were done.

He would’ve thought a part of him would bemoan the close of his career as a seducer, but he found himself glad to put old ways behind him. All it had taken was finding the right woman. He glanced over at his new bride beside him. Hand in hand, they rode in companionable silence after their long, eventful day. Studying her, he noticed that she looked a little apprehensive about tonight.

Touched by her innocence, he smiled to himself. He’d soon dismiss her maiden fears. He lifted her hand to his lips, kissing her knuckles to give her silent reassurance.

She sent him a grateful smile.

“It’s been a good day, hasn’t it?” he murmured.

She nodded. “I think it all went well.”

“I’m glad you liked your presents.”

“I have something for you, too.” She turned to face him. “I just didn’t want to give it to you in front of everyone.”

“Oh, really?” he teased her with a playful leer.

“It’s nothing improper, you rogue,” she said with a grin. “Though I did buy something special to wear for you tonight.” She bit her lip shyly.

“You did?” He sat up straight. “What color?”

She laughed. “You’ll see soon enough.”

He moaned.

She studied him in amused affection. “You were wonderful with my uncle’s family. Thank you for that. They can be difficult to manage at times.”

“So can we all.” He paused. “Will you miss them?”

“No, they’re just a few blocks away. That is far enough,” she added archly.

“Then why were you looking so somber a moment ago?”

She let out a sigh and shook her head. “I was just wondering what the gossips will make of all this. What do you suppose Society will think of our hasty marriage?”

He leaned back against the cushioned squabs with an idle shrug. “Who cares?”

She looked startled. “Well, I do, for one!”

“Why?”

“I don’t like people to gossip about me. What?”

He eyed her skeptically. “Nothing. It’s just, well, it’s a little late for that now, don’t you think?”

“What do you mean?” she exclaimed.

“Putting the speed of our ‘courtship’ aside, you will be a countess, dear. I’m afraid being the subject of talk and observation comes with the coronet. Especially when it’s me you married.”

She stared at him.

“Don’t worry, I’m sure you are equal to the task.”

“I’m glad
you’re
sure,” she muttered. “Don’t you know what people are going to think?”

He couldn’t help smiling. “You’re the expert on such things. Enlighten me.”

“That improprieties took place between us—you being you. That this hasty marriage was necessary—if you take my meaning!” She pointed to her stomach.

“Oh, nobody’s going to think that, and even if they do, they’ll see they were wrong when no little Junior arrives before the requisite nine months.”

“Yes, but in the meanwhile, I don’t relish being the subject of rude and indecent speculation.”

“Very well, if anyone gossips about you, you come tell your husband, and I’ll shoot ’em.”

“You’re not taking this at all seriously.”

“No.”

“But of course not. You’re not the one whose name will be dragged through the gutter. Mine will!”

“Why on earth do you think that?”

“Because you could’ve had anyone!” she exclaimed. “ ‘Why would he pick her?’ That’s what they’re going to say. No one will be able to make sense of it!”

“Are you daft?” he asked indignantly. “Look at you, Carissa! You’re beautiful! Clever. Charming. You’re perfect for me.” He sat back again, scowling mildly at her. “
You’re
the only one who seems to think it strange that I should want you.”

“But you didn’t,” she replied, holding his gaze in challenge. “You were forced to marry me because I snooped in Dante House, remember? Your only purpose was to keep me quiet.”

He stared at her. “You still think that’s the only reason, even after what I had inscribed on the automaton clock?”

She tilted her head, searching his face for a long moment. “You puzzle me.”

“You think too much. Relax a little, love.” He gave her cheek a fond caress. “I’m not going to let anyone say anything bad about you. In the meanwhile, I suggest you try not to let the silly gossips bother you so much. Whatever they say, it’s really quite meaningless, believe me. After all, you know who your true friends are. Their opinions are the ones that matter. And they are going to be very happy for us.”

She was silent.

He looked at her intently. “Surely you are not so entirely untrusting that you even doubt your friends?”

She stared beseechingly into his eyes.

“You doubt
me
?”

“No—I doubt myself,” she admitted.

Trailing his gaze over her lovely face, he saw the distress in her green eyes and tried to understand. “You doubt that you deserve affection?”

“No, it’s not that. It’s just—if I rely on it, if I let myself need anyone . . .” She struggled with her words, dropping her gaze. “Every time I’ve ever let myself depend on someone, they disappear. That’s why I always try to rely only on myself.”

“Carissa,” he said softly, “I’m your husband now. You can count on me. Do try to get used to that fact, all right?”

She conceded with a nod, but a wary smile tugged at her lips.

“Now put all your cares out of your mind, my lady! These are my orders, as your lord and husband. It’s your wedding day! Be happy!” He seized her about the waist and pulled her onto his lap, planting a loud kiss on her cheek just as the carriage rolled to a halt.

“You’re mad,” she chided in a soft, breathy tone right before he captured her mouth for a more serious sort of kiss. The light caress of his lips evoked a dreamy sigh from hers that told him he had succeeded in chasing away her fears, at least for the moment. The silken stroke of her tongue gave him a tantalizing taste of what was still to come tonight, while the thrill of the chemistry between them heated every inch of his body.

Then his servant came and got the carriage door.

As the man put down the step, Beau gave her a smile. “Welcome to your new home.” He got out, straightened his coat, and called cheerfully to his butler: “Get the door, Vickers!” Then he turned back for his bride.

When she appeared in the open doorway of the carriage, he swept her into his arms and carried her over the threshold.

“Welcome home, my darling,” he was moved to whisper as he stepped into the entrance hall. He felt like she needed to hear it.

Her embrace tightened around his neck as she returned his kiss. Then he set her down and steadied her while she blinked back tears of emotion. As she regained her composure, he began introducing her to the entire domestic staff assembled there to welcome the new lady of the house.

Under the rule of the ever-capable butler, Vickers, the domestic staff numbered about twenty in all, not including the outdoor gang of stableboys and gardeners. The footmen wore their full Lockwood livery for their master’s wedding day, gold brocade with peacock blue; the maids were dressed in their best uniforms, with starched white aprons. They bowed and curtsied to her, presenting her with flowers and a few small gifts.

Beau was quite pleased with how his household made her welcome. The staff were always wonderfully efficient, but more importantly to him, they were a cheerful bunch. He had never been one to tolerate a rudesby under his roof. It was one of his greatest needs in life to have a happy home; therefore, any troublemakers or dark clouds were soon sent packing. Those who passed muster and remained appreciated their situation, for he was a generous master and treated his people well.

As a result, they were devoted to him and took pride in their work, especially in their frantic preparations over the past week in readying for his domicile for the new Lady Beauchamp’s arrival.

When he had introduced everyone, they then embarked on a tour of the house, for he was determined to make his bride feel at home. His town house was not vast like the mansion, Lockwood House, which he’d inherit when his father died. Obviously, he was in no hurry for that day to come. Besides, his present dwelling suited him well. It was equal parts elegant and snug; it was convenient in every respect, and with minimal upkeep, it gave him no headaches when he had to travel for long periods of time. He just hoped it was grand enough for Carissa.

He got the impression there were a lot of marriageable young debutantes out there who would have insisted on something more magnificent. Beau had no desire to move.

Years of roaming the Continent like a nomad made him grateful for the stability of having one set address to come home to.

Showing her first the rooms on the ground floor where they had entered, he opened the door to the anteroom off the entrance hall. With its rows of bookshelves and its bay window overlooking the street, he generally used it as his study, and the likeliest place for receiving business callers when he had meetings.

Next, he led her down the corridor, past the foot of the grand staircase, to the formal dining room. Every candle had been lighted: He had wanted the room to sparkle so she would be impressed.

He glanced at her and saw he had succeeded. Her eyes shone in the candlelight. Good, he thought, relieved to escape the disruption of noisy, dusty home renovations to suit his lady’s tastes.

Moving on, he led her toward the back of the house to the well-appointed kitchen. Cook had made sure not a crumb had been left on the floor. Carissa admired the very modern cooking range and declared she had no idea how to use it. Mrs. Tarleton assured Her Ladyship she would explain all about its many features if she wished.

“Some other time,” Beau replied, playfully tugging his viscountess along toward the back door at the far end of the central hallway. He took her outside for a peek into the garden and beyond that, the mews, where her new carriage had been stored.

Turning her around, he steered her back toward the entrance hall, then led her up the stairs to the main floor. Along the way, she admired the statuary niche above the landing where the staircase switched directions.

They came out at the top of the stairs, across from the formal drawing room, with its chandeliers, ceiling medallions, and light blue walls. He showed her how the pocket doors could be rolled back to join the drawing room to the music room, creating one large space for entertaining.

She seemed pleased and stepped through the opening into the music room. She glanced at the pianoforte and asked him if he played.

“A bit,” he answered. “You?”

“A little,” she replied with a modest smile.

They moved on. At the back of the main floor lay his favorite room in the house—a cozy, cheerful parlor, or morning room, with an informal dining table and chairs. A bow window overlooked the garden. Carissa ran her hand over the plump, stuffed couch before the fireplace, then glanced around at all the thriving plants, a faint smile on her lips.

“This is where I usually eat my breakfast,” he informed her. “Assuming we’ll be doing that together in the future, pick a seat to be your designated chair.”

She chuckled, looking them over. “This one. So I can see out the window.”

“You’ll have the morning sun in your face. It comes in this way.”

“Well, I shall enjoy the view. And if it’s too strong, I’ll take the one across from it.”

“Very well,” he said sagely. “Now that that important business is all sorted, we’d best move on. The night is waning,” he added, delighting in her blush at his innuendo.

Beau was encouraged, for Carissa seemed pleased by everything so far. As they left the parlor, he pointed out the closed door to the servants’ stairs across the hall.

“The female servants’ quarters are on the fourth floor of the house,” he explained as they wandered on. “The footmen have their dormitory in the basement level, along with the wine cellar and the scullery and such. I’m sure you’ll see all of that eventually if you care to inspect it.”

She nodded but seemed content to pass on that for now. Once more, to the main staircase they returned.

Beau could already feel his blood warming as he showed her up to the third floor, where the bedchambers were located. He escorted her along the corridor, where empty spaces waited to be filled with children.

“These two bedrooms could be for either the boys or the girls, and at the front of the house could be their nursery, or their little schoolroom,” he explained.

“How many?” she inquired, smiling as she turned to him, rosy-cheeked at his talk of their future offspring.

“At least two of each,” he answered firmly.

“You’ve got everything figured out, haven’t you?”

He dodged the question with a twinkle in his eyes. “And so, my lady, that concludes your tour. Any questions?”

She shook her head, holding his stare. Neither of them could look away.

“It is a snug, efficient place. That’s why I bought it. Of course, we won’t be here forever,” he added. “When my father passes on, we shall inherit Lockwood House. It is five times the size of this place.”

“This is more than enough for me.”

He gazed into her eyes, warmed by her approval. “I hope you will be happy here.”

“I know I will,” she whispered with a small catch in her voice.

“Good. Then, you have one more room to see.” He took her hand and led her to the last room on their tour.

When she stepped over the threshold into the dim, welcoming space, Beau glanced back and nodded a silent dismissal of the servants who had trailed.

Vickers and a few of his underlings had followed in fascination of their new mistress, eager to be of use and to hop to it if they were needed, or if she found anything to be out of place. Even Beau did not know how anxious they were to see their beloved, kind master settled in life. Then he shut the door and joined her in his, or rather, their bedchamber.

Carissa had crossed the room to her traveling trunks, which had been brought over from her uncle’s house but were not yet unpacked.