Regency Vows: A Gentleman 'Til Midnight / The Trouble with Honour / An Improper Arrangement / A Wedding By Dawn / The Devil Takes a Bride / A Promise by Daylight. Julia London
deep blue, with its shimmering silk and its revealing cut. Because there was plenty of support yet to be gathered, and she was perfectly capable of exploiting their lust for votes. But marriage? She would see them in hell first.
“Very good, your ladyship.” The maid bobbed a curtsy and left.
This morning, however, she would do as she pleased. The familiar clothing she’d worn aboard the Possession settled around her like a shield, and she smiled at herself in the glass as she slid her cutlass through her sash. Wouldn’t it be satisfying to arrive at Vauxhall tonight dressed like this?
Satisfying, yes. Helpful? Definitely not. Katherine sighed at her reflection.
She grabbed up the invitations and went downstairs to study Papa’s ledgers. By the time dinner was to be served, seventeen had arrived. Dobbs had just delivered the eighteenth invitation when Captain Warre strode into the library.
“His lordship the Earl of Croston to see you,” Dodd said from the doorway, but Captain Warre had already reached the desk, looking windblown and strained, with dark circles beneath his eyes. The mouth that had burned so hotly was set in a grim line.
“Have you heard the news?” he asked.
“What news?” She stood and faced him across the desk, wishing she didn’t remember last night’s kiss quite so well.
“The second reading has passed. The committee meets on Wednesday next.”
Wednesday. “That only gives us six days.”
“Your mathematical skill is far better developed than your sense of fashion.” His gaze raked over her. “For God’s sake, what do you plan to do if you receive a caller—invite them to sit on the floor and smoke a hookah?”
Six days. All the flirtations in the world couldn’t win enough support in six days. Could it?
“I rather thought I might call for tea.” She tossed the stack of invitations in his direction. “It would seem my company is in high demand. But if these are any indication, any callers I receive will be proposing more than conversation. I’ve ordered Dodd to burn any more that arrive.”
At that precise moment, Dodd returned carrying a card on his silver tray. “Lord Ingraham to see you, your ladyship.”
“Ingraham.” Last night’s conversation in the arbor sprang to life. He thought he would marry her and open their marriage bed to the public, did he?
“Please tell him her ladyship is unavailable,” Captain Warre instructed.
“And have him return later?” Katherine scoffed. No. She would deal with this immediately. She strode out from behind the desk and headed for the door. Thirty seconds would be all she needed to take care of Lord Ingraham.
She found him waiting by the door in the entrance hall wearing a ridiculous pale blue coat embroidered with bright yellow leaves. “I am only accepting marriage proposals in writing at this time, Lord Ingraham,” she told him before she was halfway across the hall. “If you’d care to send yours, I shall put it with the rest. Be sure to include the exact amount of your debt, of course.” She stopped directly in front of him. “Oh, yes—and the number of your friends you will expect me to entertain in our marriage bed.” She gave him what she hoped was her most feral smile.
Ingraham’s startled eyes dropped to her feet, paused on her cutlass and shot back to her face. “Good God.”
Behind her, Captain Warre’s tightly bemused voice carried across the hall. “Left you speechless, has she, Ingraham?”
“Croston.” Lord Ingraham looked past her, then back. “Lady Dunscore. I—” He paused, then smiled and bowed. “Certainly not. Not speechless a’tall. Though I can see that you are otherwise occupied, so with your permission, I shall take my leave and return at another time.”
If he returned again, she would run him through before he crossed the threshhold. “You may state your business now, Lord Ingraham, and eliminate the need for a future visit.” Beside her, Captain Warre’s animosity radiated off him like heat off a ship’s deck in summer.
Lord Ingraham’s smile turned brittle. “I see. Well, naturally, my business isn’t pressing. A mere social call. Perhaps you would consider saving me a dance at the Rogersfield ball next week?”
“I will give it my careful consideration.”
“Good day, then, madam. Croston.”
The moment he was gone, Captain Warre turned on her. “He’ll have your eccentricity spread across all of London before noon.”
“And by midnight, my breasts will have them all trailing after me regardless. Or have you forgotten our plans for Vauxhall already?”
“Being hotheaded and impulsive can gain you nothing.”
“Encouraging the notion that I am available to debtors and wastrels can gain me nothing. But forgive me, Captain, if I did not handle Ingraham precisely the way you would have told me.” She returned to the library and resumed her place behind Papa’s desk. “Who are the committee members?”
Captain Warre took up the invitations and leafed through them while he told her the names.
It was no surprise that several names matched those on some of the invitations. “I particularly enjoyed the Duke of Winston’s invitation,” she said. “What a delight to hear he will chair the committee. Do you suppose he’s especially proud of the luxurious cushions in his carriage, or could there be another reason for his efforts to assure me of their comfort?”
Captain Warre’s lips curved like a scratch in ice. “Apparently the man has no care for his particulars.” He paused. “I shall deal with Winston.”
“I can’t imagine how, without giving the impression the only carriage cushions I’ll be experiencing are yours.”
His eyes shot off the page and met hers, blazing. A pulse leaped in the base of her throat, but it was too late to yank the words back.
“Six days is an eternity in the world of the ton,” he told her. “Reputations have been made and broken in less—depending, of course, on one’s behavior.”
“Of course.” The time she’d already spent in London felt like an eternity.
Dodd appeared in the doorway once more with his damnable silver tray. “Your ladyship, Viscount Fenley—”
“Tell Fenley she’s not here!”
Katherine raised a brow at Captain Warre’s explosion. “Yes, Mr. Dodd. Please send him away,” she managed evenly. She could not offend every member of the Lords, no matter how little they cared about offending her. A possessive light glowed at the edges of Captain Warre’s anger, and a little flutter winged through her belly. She ignored it. “Tonight there is Vauxhall. Tomorrow night I shall attend the theater at your sister’s suggestion. I have more than half a mind not to go, as I have the distinct impression she is among those who believe I should take a husband.”
“Which, naturally, you have no intention of doing.”
A thin edge in his tone gave her pause. “Is that a solution you advocate, Captain?”
He tossed the invitations on the desk and exhaled. “I despise the theater. What a debacle this is.”
The nonanswer made her a little sick. “A debacle that could be solved if I marry?” she pressed carefully.
“I’ll not waste time discussing a subject that has no grounding in reality. I am well aware that you will see Holliswell seated at the head of Dunscore’s table before you will tie yourself down in marriage to keep it.”
His words hit their mark, and a cold, awful chill snaked its way across her skin. She thought of Mr. Allen, father’s solicitor, and made herself voice the unthinkable. “Could it be possible that marriage is the only solution?”
“There