A Tip of the Cap (London League, Book 3) Page 2

  “Yes,” Lady Lavinia hissed through her teeth, drawing out the sound, and sidling up to him, pressing against his side in a manner that did not suit her present appearance, “and I’d like to give them something else to gossip about…”

  He didn’t doubt that, but he said nothing, sipping his beverage slowly, keeping his eyes fixed on the others in the room.

  “Why did you not tell me you were looking for a wife?” Lady Lavinia whispered.

  “Why should I make my private affairs known to the world?” he asked in reply.

  “Not to the world. Just to me.” She pressed against him again. “Come on, Monty. Leave off the idea of a wife, and you can have me all to yourself. Yours to do with as you please. Anything you please.”

  Malcolm stiffened and closed his eyes. This was one of her bolder attempts to convince him, and it was just as distasteful as all the rest. She was a handsome woman, he would grant her that, even at her age. But he was not the sort to engage in such behaviors, and despite his many attempts to convince her, she remained undeterred. She seemed almost more determined with his every refusal to wear down his resolve.

  “My lady,” he tried, sliding out of her reach as much as he could.

  “I’d like to be,” she murmured suggestively, tilting her face up to him. “Oh, how I’d like to be.”

  “Monty, there you are,” came a sweet voice from his other side. Mrs. Granger, Caroline’s cousin and their hostess, seized Malcolm’s arm in a surprisingly tight hold. “Come and assist me, will you? Excuse us, Lady Lavinia.”

  “At your service,” Malcolm replied quickly, letting himself be pulled away and feeling the brush of Lady Lavinia’s claw-like nails gripping into his arm as he left her.

  He exhaled heavily once they were safely away and patted the hand currently tucked into his arm.

  “Bless you, Lily.”

  She looked up at him with a smile, though it was pitying. “I am so sorry, I would never have let her within ten feet of you had I been close enough. I could not believe Granger invited her, but I suppose we cannot offend Mr. Herschel, can we?”

  “Unfortunately not.” Malcolm shook his head, shuddering a little. “Her attentions are becoming worse.”

  “Yes, so I heard.” She pursed her lips a little, amused. “Does that sort of thing actually work on men?”

  He chuckled as she led him out to the terrace where a few others mingled. “I have no idea. You see the impact it has on me.”

  “Yes, but you and I both know you are a bit peculiar, Monty,” she told him, grinning cheekily.

  He smiled down at her, struck again by how like Caroline she looked; the same dark shade of eyes and hair, the same easy smile, and the same tendency towards warmth and cheer, as well as an unflappable manner. She was the only member of his late wife’s family with which he had any regular correspondence, and she had never made him feel like anything less than a beloved member of her family. She and Granger were their neighbors in Hampshire and took care to see him, and the children, very often, which made her rather a favorite of his children.

  And with him as well.

  “A bit, yes,” he admitted, bringing himself back to the conversation at hand. He looked out on the gardens beyond, where a scattered group of children played merrily. “Whose children did you invite? I thought this was simply an afternoon tea you’d set up with all your eligible friends.”

  Lily snorted and moved to the railing of the terrace, watching the children fondly. “I would never be so bold as to trap you into a gathering to influence your decision.” She cast a small smile up at him for good measure. “I may invite others who would do so, but I, myself, never would.”

  “Lily…” he warned, giving her a hard look as he joined her.

  She patted his hand gently. “Relax, Monty. I, of all people, would never think to rush you in this matter. You know how I adored my cousin, and the thought of replacing her…”

  “I am not replacing her,” he snapped, his tone suddenly harsh.

  Lily gripped his hand tightly. “I know, Malcolm.”

  She never called him by his given name, choosing his preferred nickname of Monty instead, as most of the world did. He looked at her for a long moment, seeing the genuine concern and warmth, as well as a hint of sadness, in her eyes. He relaxed and allowed himself to smile a little.

  “So,” he said suddenly, looking back to the children, “whose children are these?”

  She gestured to a handful of them currently chasing each other on the green and around some flowering bushes, shrieking gleefully. “Those are the three Gerrard sisters as well as the Gerrard boy, the oldest of the Whitlocks, and the oldest of the Bevertons.” She indicated another group of much younger children. “The rest of the Whitlock and Beverton children, the little Bray girl, the Gerrard daughter, the other Gerrard’s son, and the Sheffield twins.”

  “You have collected an army of infants,” he mused thoughtfully, enjoying the faint nudge against him from Lily’s elbow.

  “The ‘infants’,” she retorted with a smile, “are indoors with their mothers. These are no longer considered infants.”

  Malcolm glanced down at her in amusement. “Why invite children, Lily? It’s not exactly fashionable.”

  Lily shrugged, smiling to herself. “I adore children. You know that; you’ve seen me at Knightsgate more than you would like, I’ll wager, purely so I can see yours.”

  “You know you are always welcome.”

  She shook her head fondly as if she did not hear him. “Besides, it did not seem fair to invite the parents without the children when it is so informal. Moreover, they are well tended, you see.”

  He looked where she indicated and noticed for the first time a young woman acting as a sentry among the children. She alternated between dashing about with the older children and scooping up the younger ones, tickling them until they squealed, and seemed to be perfectly at ease with both sets. She wore a soft smile constantly, her fingers absently plucking at a sprig of flowers in her hand when she was not otherwise engaged.

  One of the younger children suddenly came to her with a doll, looking a little put out about something. She sank down to the girl’s level, taking the doll in hand and listening with a serious expression to whatever was being said. She looked at the doll with a suddenly exasperated expression and seemed to scold it for some imagined sin. She then returned the wayward plaything to the girl with a prim nod, which was returned. The satisfied child dashed back to her picnic.

  “Who is that young woman?” Malcolm asked mildly. “A new maid?”

  Lily looked at him in surprise. “Maid? That’s my friend, Miss Owens. We were at school together.”

  Malcolm jerked and turned to face Lily, shocked and a bit aghast. “She’s your friend? But she’s so young, and… well…”

  Comprehension dawned, and Lily smiled a little in understanding. “She comes from a very good family, but a poor one. She is the youngest of ten children, if you can believe that. None of them really takes much trouble with her. She has been living with one of her brothers for the last two years, acting as a governess of sorts to their children. But they have decided to hire someone outside of the family, so Beth must make her own way now. She has four hundred a year, but even that is questionable anymore. She may look a little worn in dress and poor in appearance, but she has the kindest heart in the world.”

  “I thought that belonged to you,” he offered with a smile.

  Lily nudged him again. “Flattery will get you everywhere, Monty, but you know how it unsettles me.”

  “If your husband were not such a great dunce, he would flatter you incessantly, and you would grow comfortable with praise.” He brought up her hand to kiss it fondly, then turned back to observe Miss Owens. Her fair hair was blowing a little in the spring air, simply pinned at the base of her neck, but a few locks near her temple and ear had escaped with the energy of playing. She was now chasing all the older children, who regarded her with a mixture of
bewilderment and adoration as they ran from her.

  “Is she of the Owens family from Oxfordshire?” he asked, considering her in a new light.

  “She is, yes.”

  He nodded slowly, the thought turning over in his mind. It was a good family line, quite respectable. But poor fiscal management and too many children had drained their finances, so there was little to offer anyone but their heritage and breeding. It would have made things rather difficult for a youngest daughter, though the sons could find professions enough to support them.

  “She will have to find a position if she does not make a match soon,” Lily murmured quietly. “I have no doubt she will do very well, but she is not the governess sort, and I fear she will not have an easy time getting a position.”

  Malcolm recognized that she would be lucky to gain any sort of position at all. With her looks and temperament, no mother would hire her for fear of a husband straying. She could be the most capable woman in the world and have impeccable references, but it would not be enough.

  “Does she have any prospects?” he asked before he could stop himself.

  Lily shook her head, smiling as the children turned the tables on Miss Owens and began to chase her instead. “None. But she doesn’t seem to mind. It is as though nothing negatively affects her. Nothing dark can touch her.”

  Lily’s suddenly morose tone shook him, and he took her hand in his gently. “Lily…”

  She shook her head and looked up at him with a brave smile. “I’m fine, Monty. Really.”

  He didn’t believe her for a moment, but it was hardly proper for him to question her answer.

  One of the younger children across the lawn suddenly started crying, for some unknown reason, and their attention was drawn there. The little redhead toddled away from the others, tears falling rapidly, her face flushed with her distress.

  Miss Owens came over to her at once, crouching down and taking the child’s face in her hand. She spoke to her in very soft tones, smiling all the while, and gently smoothed away the tears. Picking up the little girl, she set her firmly on her hip, still talking to her. The girl nodded and rubbed at her eyes, then dimpled in a small smile. Miss Owens bounced the girl a little, making her giggle, and then made a show of whispering to her before chasing after the older children again with the child still in her grasp.

  The older children shrieked with mock terror and laughter, scrambling in all directions. This drew the attention and enthusiastic cries of the younger children who left their separate activities. They ran to join in the melee, having no comprehension of what was occurring, but trailing after Miss Owens as ducklings after their mother.

  The adults present all laughed at the madness, but no one as merrily as Miss Owens herself, who navigated the entire brood with a brilliant smile and an unbridled energy. She practically danced as she led the chase, and her joy was as warm and infectious as the sun on a fine day. Soon, it became unclear who was chasing and who was being chased. Through it all, she was in the middle of it, gently reprimanding those who were being too rough and drawing in those who could not keep up with the rest.

  Beth Owens was extraordinary. There was no other way to describe her.

  Malcolm shook his head in disbelief as he witnessed the magic. “Has she met any of these children before?”

  That would explain everything, lessen the rarity of this event, and would certainly settle the odd sensations he felt stirring within his chest at the sight of it. Of her. The strange inability to breathe with ease. Or to look anywhere but at her face, at the flush spreading across her skin, at the small dimple that appeared when her smile was too much for her cheeks to contain.

  “No,” Lily said, her voice faint but filled with a smile of her own. “No, she only just came to London. She’s met the children an hour ago. Isn’t she wonderful?”

  God help him, but she was wonderful. She was perfect!

  “I’d like to meet her,” he said quietly, the words scraping past his lips. “Today, if possible.”

  There was a soft laugh beside him. “Yes, I thought you might.”

  Chapter Two

  "Beth, do you have a moment?”

  Beth Owens cracked an eyelid open to peep at one of her oldest friends, upon whose lawn she was currently lying along with three little girls, collecting rays of sunlight with their skin so they might become fairies.

  “You will have to ask one of the others, Lily. I am supposed to become a fairy at this moment.”

  Lily put her hands on her hips and tilted her head. “How does one become a fairy with a flower crown and sunshine?”

  “The flowers attract the sunshine,” young Lady Helena Chambers rehearsed from her place on the grass at Beth’s left. “The sun is fooled and believes that we, too, are flowers. Then our skin collects the sun, and it becomes magic within us!”

  “Oh, that explains a great deal,” Lily said with a nod. “Can you spare Miss Owens, my sweet fairies-to-be?”

  They all chimed in the affirmative, delighted to win a believer in their attempts.

  Beth shook her head, smiling to herself. This day had been the most wonderful sort of fun, romping with the children instead of having to mingle with adults. They tended to pity her and find fault with her appearance, or her manner, or anything else about her. These people, to whom she would soon apply for employment unless something miraculous occurred, would not take kindly to a woman of her situation being one of their party.

  But she could tend to their children.

  She much preferred the children, anyway. They cared not that her dress was five years old and repeatedly mended, or that her hair was not particularly fashionable, as she did not have a maid to help her with it, or that her dowry amounted to the weekly grocer’s bills for some of their parents’ kitchens. They only wanted her to chase them and scold dolls and make flower crowns and transform into fairies. It was much nicer to be with the children. It was a distraction, she fully admitted, but she did not mind being distracted.

  She got to her feet and brushed herself off, trailing after Lily. “What do you need?”

  “Someone wants to meet you.”

  Beth stopped in the act of brushing grass from her skirt and gaped at Lily’s back. “I beg your pardon? Someone wants… what?”

  Lily glanced over her shoulder with an uncharacteristic smirk. “A gentleman has asked to meet you.”

  If her jaw could have dropped further, it would have. “A gentleman?” she squeaked. “Lily!”

  Her friend tossed her head back and laughed, her dark tresses dancing despite their simple style, then turned back, coming to take Beth’s hands. “A gentleman saw you playing with the children, and now he desires to be introduced to you. That’s all.”

  Beth swallowed with difficulty, clutching her friend’s hands desperately. “He saw me? But, Lily, I look dreadful!”

  Lily pulled a strand of grass from Beth’s hair and gingerly removed the flower crown, brushing off the young woman’s hair with her fingers. “There, now, don’t fret yourself. You look lovely. Very natural and easy. And your frock is quite fetching.”

  “No doubt stained with all sorts of things,” Beth muttered, plucking at the faded and almost too-thin gown.

  She was wearing two chemises and petticoats to make up for it, given the dress was a pale color and sheerness would have been more obvious. It was good enough to wear for day-to-day activities, but meeting with a gentleman? Hardly.

  Lily made a quick pass around her. “Not even a little stain, you fortunate girl. Now, come quickly. The earl won’t wait.”

  “Earl?” Beth gasped. “You never said he was an earl!”

  “Didn’t I?” Lily pretended to look confused. “Oh dear.” She bit back a giggle and gestured for Beth to follow.

  Beth stayed precisely where she was, finding no humor in this situation at all. “Why does the earl want to speak with me?” she demanded, putting her hands on her hips.

  She heard Lily sigh, then her friend turne
d to give her an exasperated look. “He didn’t tell me, Beth, but he does have four children who lost their mother two years ago. As she was my cousin, he is very dear to me. So, when he asked me to meet you, I told him he could do so. Now, will you please oblige me?”

  The thought of four children without a mother struck her, and she bit her lip, considering the idea. He no doubt needed someone to help manage the children, and while she did not particularly wish to go into the governess trade, she knew her options were limited. She would not be a very good governess, as she had not been particularly fond of sitting still through long hours of study.

  But, if he had seen her behavior with the children and had been impressed by it, perhaps her lack of skills would be forgiven. She could offer the children friendship and understanding, and she was not entirely hopeless when it came to intelligent matters. It might be just the thing to help her on her way.

  An interview with an earl. That was quite a beginning.

  She nodded to herself, then smiled at Lily as she approached. “I will oblige you, of course. I hope I might be able to impress the earl.”

  Lily seemed to be fighting a smile as they moved towards the house. “Yes, so do I. You’ll have to forgive Monty, though. He is not particularly verbose.”

  “Silence does not bother me,” Beth said with an easy shrug. “I’ve got four brothers who don’t talk much.”

  Lily snorted a surprised laugh into her hand, looking at her sideways. “I thought you had seven brothers.”

  Beth nodded again. “I do. Four are quiet, the oldest speaks incessantly, and the younger two could never get a word in edgewise with everyone else, but they certainly said enough when the others were gone. I learned to quite adore silence by the time I was grown.”

  “Well, that is convenient,” her friend commented as they approached the terrace steps. “But I think you will find him a little more conversational than that, so you need have no fears on that point.”

  No, Beth thought, just all the other fears that came along with meeting a powerful earl who might have received a less than favorable impression of her. Only those fears.