To Love A Lord of London (Wardington Park; Raptures of Royalty) (3 page)

Hensman turned to Wardington, “Why, I think we were there that year, were we not? Covent Garden is one of London’s best theatres. What was that? Thirty odd years ago?”

“Twenty-five,” came the answer from Lord Mark Dawnton. It was the first thing he’d said since greeting Amy. Once the answer was out, he said no more, looking off into the distance. It was obvious that though his mind followed the conversation, it was also elsewhere.

Amy turned to look at Duke Wardington, only to find him staring at her with narrowed eyes. It wasn’t a cruel look, rather one of pure curiosity. The duke eventually said, “Yes, I do believe we were.” Then he turned to Hensman, “You didn’t tell us you had a niece. You’ll have to introduce her at the dinner this week.”

T
he dinner
he spoke of would be the last official gathering of the families in Bedfordshire before everyone went to London for parliament.

Amy looked to find Nathaniel staring at her again and for the life of her couldn’t understand why. She was no beauty. She was plain in every way. She had plain brown hair, a dull shade of brown eyes, all on a face and body that was completely forgettable. What was worse, she had no title and no money, though her uncle had promised her a dowry. Still, she was no one, but the way Nathaniel’s green eyes regarded her, Amy was almost ready to believe differently. What else was a girl to do underneath such admiration?

L
ord Nathaniel Dawnton
heard the knocking and glanced around his stateroom, which at the moment looked like a ship had sailed through it. Furniture was toppled over, and the evidence of his party lay everywhere. The room was a wreck.

T
he knocking sounded again
, hurting his head. There was also mumbling going on behind his position on the couch. Looking over his shoulder, he watched as his brother, Mark, paced the floor, paper in one had, a pencil in the other. He was shirtless, barefoot, and going on and on about some integral theorem. Nathaniel cringed just thinking about it. The knock sounded again, and Nathaniel asked Mark, “Where are the servants?”

For a moment, it seemed like Mark hadn’t heard him, and then somewhere in his rambling, he said, “Intoxicated.”

“Splendid.”

T
he knock sounded again
.

Nathaniel got up, pushing the dead weight of the body next to him away, and left the room. In the vestibule, he checked his reflection in the mirror. He looked worse than his stateroom. He ran a hand through his blonde hair before turning to the door. Yanking it open, he was ready to scream at the person on the other side before he noticed who it was. Then he straightened. “Father.”

Duke Wardington looked his son over and gave him a look of disdain. “Well, aren’t you going to let me in?”

Nathaniel opened the door further, and with a sweep of his hand, he allowed his father entrance.

The duke had barely made it over the threshold before asking, “Where is your butler?”

Nathaniel laughed, “Indisposed of at the moment. Sorry you missed the party.”

Wardington narrowed his eyes, “I’ve never partied with my own sons.” Though he was sure that if the Dawnton name had been attached to the affair, then it had surely been one to talk about. Still, there were some things that a father never did and that was encourage his sons in the same wicked vices that he himself had taken on since their mother’s passing. Sure, Martin may not have been the best role model for his sons, but the Duke of Wardington drew the line somewhere. All men had to.

H
is middle son
, Nathaniel, gave a slow blink of his eyes before releasing a breath, “To what do I owe this early morning visit?”

Wardington narrowed his eyes, “It’s noon.”

A dark blonde brow arched its way up Nathaniel’s face. “Noon?” He looked at the clock over one of his many fireplaces before chuckling. He grinned as he turned back to his father. “So, it is.”

The duke shook his head, “Are your brothers here?”

In response, a mumbling from the hallway broke their speech. Both men turned to watch as Mark walked slowly past the entryway, still uttering his mathematical nonsense. He looked like a caveman with his blonde hair hanging a bit too far past his ears. Shirtless and with only a pair of wrinkled breeches for clothes, Martin was still sure that Mark was the smartest man in Bedfordshire. He’d graduated at the top of his class at Cambridge. A father couldn’t be more proud. Though, it really was time for his hair to be cut. “Mark.”

M
ark tore
his eyes from the paper in his hand. “Father.” There was no emotion in his speech. Neither warmth or coolness. Everything Mark said was simply fact and nothing more.

“Go see Mr. Dudley today, and be well groomed for this afternoon.”

Mark nodded, paused, and then nodded again before turning away.

Wardington turned back to Nathaniel to find that his son had managed not only to move himself across the room to find occupation in a chair, but had also proceeded to fall asleep. “Nathaniel.”

“Hm.” A single green eye opened.

“Where’s Andrew?”

With a yawn and a stretch, he said, “Somewhere around here.” Then he grinned, “I wouldn’t go looking for him if I were you.”

Wardington shook his head. Something was very wrong here.
And it’s all your fault.
“Are you looking forward to the season?”

Nathaniel’s eyes were closed again, but a smile played on his lips. “I wouldn’t dream of missing it.”

“Looking forward to finding
The One
?” he asked, hopefully.

Nathaniel chuckled again, “The one… the second… the third...”

He was looking forward to the season for all the wrong reasons.
Wardington had heard the whispers… Nathaniel never asked to court a lady of the peerage; instead, the young lord was known to ruin them! Much like he’d done a baron’s daughter two years ago. Since then, people had looked at him as though he were worse than the black plague. Every mother kept their daughter away from Nathaniel for fear that he would corrupt them. It was completely dishonorable.

W
ardington went
over and sat down by his son. Nathaniel didn’t open his eyes, but his father knew he was aware of his presence. “How long do you plan to live this way?”

Nathaniel’s lips moved from side to side before he spoke, “Oh, I don’t know. How old are you, Father?”

He felt the blow of the words. “I was married once.”

Nathaniel opened a green eye, “I believe that is how I came to be here.”

Wardington went on, “I loved your mother. Deeply and against the odds, we were a love match. It’s the only reason I haven’t forced any of you to make a decision as of yet.”

Nathaniel’s eye opened, and something in his gaze flickered before it passed. “I know,” he whispered.

W
ardington narrowed his eyes
.

There was a silent moment.

Then Nathaniel stood and turned away from his father. “I’m in love as well. I simply love them all.” He hoped his words were full of the merriment he didn’t feel. He kept his back to his father, not wanting the older man to peer any more deeply into his soul. He’d come close to sharing his fears. Too close. Taking a breath, he opened the curtains in the stateroom and was blinded by the sun. He turned away, letting the offending light land on his side. “Have you simply come over to see about my plans for London, or was there something more urgent that you wanted to discuss?”

Wardington stood, “You’ll be at dinner this evening. The Croftmans and the Eatons will both be there… and Miss Ott.”

Nathaniel didn’t take the bait. “I wouldn’t dare miss a match between Andrew and Miss Catherine Croftman.”

Wardington came to stand by the window, staring too intensely at his son. “And Miss Ott?”

F
ine
. He’d take the bait. “It would be nice to see her as well… Hopefully, I could hold her...” he paused dramatically, “in a deep conversation about Shakespeare.” Then he grinned, believing that it would stop any further attempts of his father playing matchmaker.

Wardington’s brows drew together. “Give me your word that you won’t touch Miss Ott.”

Nathaniel stared at his father. “Oh, you’re no fun at all.”

His father sighed, “This is not a game, Nathaniel. You are the son of a duke. You must marry, and you have to stop playing around with the daughters of the peerage.”

“You’re right. The experienced ones are always more—”

“
E
nough
!”

Nathaniel’s eyes went wide. He hadn’t heard his father yell at him in years. He frowned and placed a hand on the other man’s shoulder. “Are you well, old man? Is this about grandchildren?”

“What?” Wardington asked.

Nathaniel narrowed his eyes and wagged a finger. “I think it is. You’re starting to feel old, aren’t you?” He placed both hands on either one of his father’s shoulders, forcing the man to stare into his eyes. Taking a breath, he put on a most solemn expression. “There is still time,” he said slowly, in a condescending way, making sure his father heard his every word. “Andrew will marry.” He then patted his father on the arm. “You’ll see.” Then he started to walk away.

“And what of you?”

“Shouldn’t we wait for Andrew to marry first? After all, he is the eldest.”

Wardington waved a hand in the air, “Andrew will marry. We need not worry about him.”

“And Mark?” Nathaniel asked.

Both men turned to look at the spot where Mark had been pacing earlier.

Wardington turned to Nathaniel, “Any woman who manages to bring his mind out of the books is sure to become his bride.”

N
athaniel sighed
, not believing that to ever happen. It was amazing how men of science seemed to always get away from completing other duties. As though one couldn’t take on family responsibilities and better the world at the same time. Perhaps, Nathaniel thought, he should have taken on a more challenging pursuit, like mathematics or astrology. He cringed at the thought. No, he’d leave Mark to such dull drivel.

Wardington cut into Nathaniel’s thoughts, “I saw the way you looked at Miss Ott.”

Nathaniel turned back to his father, “I look at every woman that way.”

Wardington smirked. “No. You don’t.”

Nathaniel crossed his arms, though his heart began to race. “And what exactly did you see?”

His father crossed his arms as well. “The look you gave Miss Ott started off as that look that you give other women. The look of false adoration that makes them all swoon, but then it changed when she proved herself worthy of your attention.”

Nathaniel scoffed and looked away. “You can’t be serious. She’s not even titled.”

“She’s Hensman’s niece. She comes with a dowry.”

Nathaniel looked at his father to see whether or not he was serious. “You’re serious?”

“I am.”

H
e looked away again
, not believing what was happening. This was the most Wardington had ever pushed Nathaniel toward any girl. Sure, the old man had bothered all his sons about marriage and the possibility of one girl over another—but never a single girl.
And never one that Nathaniel had actually liked talking to.
“Her looks aren’t the most… fair.”

“She’s not ugly,” Wardington countered.

Nathaniel agreed, “No.”

“Nathaniel.”

“I’ll see you at dinner.” He really needed his father to go.

Wardington stared at him and then started for the door. “Make sure your brothers are there and that Mark has his hair groomed; if not, I will hold you personally responsible.” And then he was out the door.

In the silence that followed, Nathaniel moved back to the empty couch, closed his eyes, and waited for the tension to leave his form. How his father had noticed Nathaniel’s interest was beyond him. Nathaniel showed interest in every woman, no matter their station. He was not particular about the women he chose to spend his time with, so long as they were clean and willing.

B
ut Amy Ott
. She’d caught him off guard, catching his quote. As a lover and investor of both theater and music, Nathaniel surrounded himself with like-minded individuals, but most of the time, his friends seemed only to regard current works or those from authors whom everyone was familiar with. Homer. Dickinson. Austen. It was always the same… and then a small, sweet voice had whispered,
Lovers’ Vow
.

N
athaniel laughed
. He’d already dismissed her before she’d spoken. As his father had pointed out, Nathaniel had only been flirting with the girl because it was in his nature. Her face was plain, nothing that made a man want a second look. But the moment she spoke, everything had changed about her. Her brown eyes hadn’t seemed so dull anymore as they filled with intellect. And the cheeks of her unblemished white face had turned a pretty shade of pink. Nathaniel had wanted to throw away the rest of his day to simply sit and talk to her… to watch her smile at him… to hear how she came to be who she was. But, he’d known better than that. Amy Ott was exactly the type of woman with whom he did not want to get entangled. She was the kind of girl whose company he could find himself craving. Needing. He couldn’t have that. Nathaniel would not marry, and that was that.

“
G
ood thing
the old man isn’t here anymore,” Nathaniel said aloud. His father could be persistent when he wished to be.

Movement from behind the couch caught Nathaniel’s eye. He turned and watched as Andrew’s face came into view. He grinned, “I thought he’d never leave.” He’d obviously been there the entire time.

Nathaniel smiled. He couldn’t agree more.