Heiress in Regency Society. Helen Dickson
yet he had made the fatal mistake of taking to bed a married woman. His stupidity galled him, and he cursed himself for being a dim-witted fool.
Nathan cast him an arch look. ‘The delectable Amelia Fairhurst must be quite something for you to have overlooked the fact that she has an aging husband tucked conveniently out of the way in Yorkshire.’
Alex’s firm lips curved in a slight smile when he remembered the stunningly vivacious brunette, who had taken no persuading to jump into his bed. ‘She’s certainly an interesting, unconventional female.’
Nathan chuckled, giving his friend a conspiratorial wink. ‘And I seem to recall you saying on more than one occasion that unconventional women are always more exciting between the sheets.’
‘Exactly,’ Alex replied with a wry grin. ‘Providing one doesn’t happen to be married to one.’
His words were flippant, but Nathan heard an edge to his voice. Alex was a self-proclaimed single man. Past experiences had forged him into a hardened cynic, and he discarded all women as being dispensable and irrelevant. Age and experience had taught him that women couldn’t be trusted, and the first lady to show him this had been his own mother. Her affairs had been notorious and had hurt him badly. They had also been the reason why his father had sought oblivion in alcohol before blowing out his brains. Alex’s mother, the beautiful and immoral Margaret Montgomery, had married her Spanish lover soon after and had gone to live in Spain. Whether she lived or had died Alex neither knew nor cared.
‘Thank God Fairhurst is in his dotage. With any luck his eyesight will be impaired and his brain addled. I am merely one in a long line of Amelia’s lovers. Why the devil he’s singled me out is quite beyond me.’
‘Maybe it’s because you’re the only one he knows about.’
‘I doubt it. But whatever the reason, remind me not to stray from Caroline from now on. She’s more than enough to satisfy my needs.’
Alex was always careful to choose a mistress whose company he enjoyed. She had to be intelligent and sophisticated, who would not mistake lovemaking and desire with love, and, moreover, she had to be a woman who made no demands and expected no promises.
For these reasons she would be kept in the lap of luxury. She could expect a smart town house, a beautiful carriage and horses, servants, gowns, furs and jewels that would be the envy of every other woman.
‘Does Caroline know about your affair with Amelia?’
‘Yes, but she understands not to ask for an explanation. However, I must admit that I’ve been unfair to her.’
Nathan quirked a brow, his blue eyes twinkling with light mockery. ‘What’s this? Are you becoming sentimental?’
‘I am never sentimental,’ Alex snapped. ‘But for the life of me I can’t understand why someone as stunning as Amelia married old Fairhurst in the first place. It’s disgraceful that so much beauty is wasted on such a pathetic old man.’
Nathan regarded his friend with mild cynicism. ‘Yes, you can. You know the type of woman she is. She’s a scheming fortune-hunter who likes to drink the finest champagne and wear the most expensive jewels. She openly and shamelessly admits she married Fairhurst for his title and wealth and flaunts it with aplomb.’
‘So she does, but you must admit she is more pleasing than those simpering young misses, who swoon at the merest hint of a stolen kiss, their mamas hovering over them like hawks, ready to latch on to me if I show any sign of compromising their precious daughters.’
Alex was aware that he was a fantastic matrimonial prize—top of the list of every ambitious matchmaking mama, whom he treated with amused condescension. They were women whose only ambition in life was to form an alliance with the powerful and illustrious Montgomery family. His ancestors on his mother’s side had been rewarded for their loyalty to the crown through the ages with estates and riches enough to make him one of the wealthiest men in England.
Alex’s attitude to the female sex was highly critical, his opinion low, but his own popularity among them was high. He was unattached, unattainable, and he would stay that way.
‘Perhaps if you were to give marriage some serious thought it might put a stop to the hunt.’
Alex threw Nathan a look that would have stopped a race-horse in its tracks. ‘When I want some of your logic, Nathan,’ he retorted tersely, ‘I’ll ask for it.’
‘Nevertheless, it would solve the problem,’ Nathan went on imperturbably, ignoring Alex’s black look. Nathan was one of the few people who could argue with him and escape unscathed.
‘Marriage and love are for fools,’ Alex stated caustically.
‘I never mentioned love. Besides, where you are concerned, since when has love anything to do with marriage or anything else for that matter?’ Nathan proclaimed.
‘You’re right. I despise the romantic ideal of love. I’ve seen enough of it in the past to know of its destructive effects. Desire I understand. It’s a more honest emotion. Passion and desire are easily appeased—fleeting—and easily doused.’
‘It’s a good thing we’re not all as cynical as you are,’ Nathan chuckled. ‘Not every woman is as ambitious and devious as you seem to think they are. I am fortunate to be married to one, don’t forget.’
That was true. Twelve months ago Nathan had found wedded bliss with the lovely Verity Fortesque, a woman with whom even Alex had been unable to find fault. Alex and Verity were cousins, Verity being the only daughter of his Aunt Patience, Uncle Henry’s younger sister. Patience’s husband had died after just a few short yet happy years of marriage. She had never remarried and still lived in the house they had shared at Richmond.
‘Verity is a sweet thing, I grant you. But she is the exception. However, unlike you, I do not find marriage a desirable institution.’
Nathan shot him an exasperated look. ‘I agree it can be heaven or hell. Thankfully I chose my wife wisely. Our marriage will be long lasting, based on caring—and love. And you may scoff at that all you like.’
Alex looked at his friend, suddenly serious. ‘I’m not scoffing, Nathan. In a way I envy you.’
‘You do?’
Alex nodded and looked away.
‘You know, Alex, you Montgomerys have become thin on the ground; if you want to continue the line, you really should give some thought to producing an heir. You don’t have to marry for love—but I suspect that one day you will fall prey to what you consider to be a debilitating emotion, and it will come as the greatest shock in your life.’
Alex favoured him with a look of absolute disdain, but Nathan ignored it. ‘I don’t think so,’ he answered coldly, his tone suggesting that the subject was closed. But as he turned away he frowned, his thoughts reverting to the matter of an heir. Nathan was right. He was heir to his uncle, the Duke of Mowbray, and Alex knew how anxious his uncle was for him to marry. If he didn’t produce a legitimate heir, the title would become extinct. It troubled him more than anyone realised, and he knew he couldn’t go on ignoring the issue.
He had stayed a bachelor far longer than most of his contemporaries, and the truth of it was that he was beginning to tire of courtesans and mistresses, and all the jealousies and petty tantrums they brought with them. This latest affair with Amelia Fairhurst had made him see that he was susceptible to women of a certain type, and a wave of disgust swept over him. There had to be an easier way of satisfying his physical needs. Perhaps Nathan was right and a marriage of convenience was the answer after all. In fact, it might have much to offer, and, further, the ideal woman was waiting in the wings.
Lavinia Howard was the eldest daughter of Lord Howard of Springfield Hall in Kent. She was eminently suitable and available. He would dwell on the prospect and invite her—along with a party of friends—to Arlington, his estate in Hertfordshire. If he offered for her, marriage would be a comfortable arrangement that would suit them both. A union