Page 1 of A Simple Marriage (Millionaires of Mayfair #2)

London, 1819

Only the thought of dresses could compel Lady Phillipa ‘Pippa’ Ardeerton to consider marriage. More specifically, a dress shop was the reason Pippa stood in Hyde Park, pretending to admire the lush trees before her as she waited for the first gentleman she had invited to meet her so they could discuss marriage.

The dress shop in question belonged to Mademoiselle Mignon, who was soon to marry. Like a fairy godmother, she had offered to sell her dress shop to Pippa. When they’d first met, Mignon had taken Pippa under her wing and taught her the business of running an exclusive dress shop. It was an opportunity of a lifetime to own her shop. Mademoiselle Mignon’s gowns were legendary as women from all over the British Isles traveled to London to visit the talented modiste. To don one of her dresses for a ton event ensured that the wearer would be the center of attention. It was an understatement to say that her dresses were works of art.

But so were Pippa’s creations. To own this shop was her destiny.

To buy it, she needed her trust fund. To receive her trust fund, she had to reach the age of thirty and still be unmarried. Waiting six years was out of the question. But the trust provided that if she married, the funds became hers on the day she said her vows. And she’d only consider marriage to a gentleman if he’d agreed to marry her quickly and leave her trust fund alone after they exchanged “I dos.”

Her lady’s maid, Alice Roberts, stepped closer and looked over her shoulder. The movement reminded Pippa of a spy, one in the midst of some clandestine affair waiting for the enemy.

Well, this was a clandestine affair, but Pippa didn’t want to marry her enemy. All she wanted was one man, and she wasn’t picky. Practically any man would meet her requirements if he agreed that she would control her trust fund.

And he must not mind that his wife was involved in trade.

“My lady, your first appointment should have been here by now,” Alice murmured.

“There’s no need to whisper. No one can hear us.” Pippa bit her lip to keep from laughing. Alice was a little sensitive at times if teased about being too dramatic. She patted her maid’s arm in comfort. “He’s only five minutes late.”

Alice pointed to her elbow. “You know how my elbow can predict things. Right now, it’s stiffening up on me. That’s a warning, my lady. It’s telling me that your idea to fetch a husband by writing him a letter isn’t going to work.” Alice shook her head in disapproval.

Pippa normally adored the antics of her lady’s maid. It helped keep the loneliness at bay. An affliction that had only worsened when her older sister, Lady Honoria Ardeerton, had married Marcus Kirkland, the Earl of Trafford, and had moved to his estate in Amesbury.

However, today was not the day for Alice’s elbow to start acting out. Uncannily, it regularly predicted when it would rain or if there was a change in the weather. But Pippa very much doubted that it could predict when things were set to go awry.

“Sweet Alice, it’s a perfectly conceived plan.” Taller than an average woman, Pippa smiled down at her maid.

The maid shook her head and looked about the park again. “Don’t you think your brother will think it’s a little suspicious that you’re going to Hyde Park for the next five mornings for exercise? His Grace is a wily thinker.” Alice tapped her finger against her temple. “His mind is always working. He’ll smell it. Mark my words.”

“Well, it’s a good thing he has the sniffles,” Pippa retorted. Her brother, Dane Ardeerton, the Duke of Pelham, was a problem. Uncommonly astute, he was the one who had sole discretion over her trust fund. She’d already asked him to release her funds early, and he’d declined.

While her brother was her biggest supporter of her art, he didn’t particularly care for her going into trade. He’d always declared, “A duke’s sister is a rare creature. To lower oneself into mixing with the masses and handling money is unseemly. Unheard of for the Duke of Pelham’s youngest sister.”

However, Pippa considered his thinking to be a tad myopic. His focus was running his millionaire’s club and his gambling hell disguised as a coaching inn, the Jolly Rooster. Pelham created the millionaire’s club one day at Eton to develop a group where men and women with self-made wealth had a place to discuss business.

In Pippa’s opinion, there wasn’t much difference between a modiste shop and a gambling hell coaching inn. All were created to deliver a fantasy of sorts. The gambling hell promised that a man might win a fortune if Lady Luck sat beside him for the night.

A dress offered something just as thrilling. The perfect gown could turn even the most ordinary event into something spectacular. It could also turn that same event into something magical just by the way it could make a woman feel. Pippa considered it an honor to create such fantasies. Heaven knew her need to design was as vital to her wellbeing as her next breath.

Frankly, her plan was flawless and rather ingenious if she did say so herself. She’d picked five men from her brother’s millionaires club to meet and discuss her proposal of marriage. Once she picked a man, her brother wouldn’t object. He’d personally approved each of the members. It made little difference if they were titled or not. The only requirements? They had to have assets worth over million pounds, be trustworthy, and last but not least, be honorable. Pelham didn’t allow riffraff into his club even if they did possess fortunes. If the men were part of the club, then Pelham would approve them as eligible men to marry. She was certain of it.

“My lady, look over there.” Alice threw a furtive nod of her head in the direction of the paved walkway. “He’s coming.”

Pippa lifted her gaze. The man walking toward them wore a striking blue morning coat that fit him like a glove and emphasized his broad shoulders. She had little doubt that underneath his apparel, his body was fit and trim. Her eyes swept over his buff-colored breeches, another immaculate fit as they framed his muscular legs. Even from this distance, his clothes were expensive and of the highest quality. She could always recognize such clothing. It was her special power.

Yet, Pippa couldn’t tell if it was Lord Bedford or not. She’d invited him to be her first bachelor to interview. She’d always found the viscount to be delightful. But she’d never remembered him being that muscular or tall. However, when they’d danced together at an event, he’d always found a way to amuse her. Humor was important in a marriage, more so than love.

As the man came closer, her confidence wilted like a cheese souffle. The viscount possessed hair a tad darker than Pippa’s blonde mane. The man strolling toward her had locks the color of obsidian. Too long, it fell across his brow and brushed his shoulders. It was so dark that it blended into the black of his hat. She still didn’t recognize him as the brim shaded his face.

Alice clapped her hands together in glee. “Look Lady Pippa, it’s Lord Ravenscroft.”

As her maid laughed in pure, unadulterated joy, Pippa gasped in horror.

Of all the men to meet in the park, it was just her luck it was Hugh Calthorpe, the Marquess of Ravenscroft.

He was her brother’s best friend. He was also confident, intelligent, and funny. When he shared something with you, he’d lean close and lower his voice. His green-eyed gaze always held yours. He made you feel as if he were sharing something extraordinary only with you. That made him dangerous.

Pippa didn’t need intimacy with a man.

She needed friendship, and that was all.

Pippa patted her hair to ensure everything was in place, then smoothed her dress. She would not let the appearance of the marquess deter her. She had every right to be in this park. Women of her stature went for walks every day.

She stood tall and tilted her chin slightly when Ravenscroft drew to a stop in front of them.

“Good morning, my lady.” His gravelly voice reminded her of a cat’s tongue against the skin, a sign of affection that was unexpected.

Or an unanticipated taste before a bite.

“Good morning, my lord,” she answered as he bowed before her.

A man in possession of consummate manners, Ravenscroft turned to Alice. “Good morning, Miss Roberts.”

“Oh, my lord, good morning,” Alice cooed. “Imagine meeting you here.”

That was the problem with her fifty-year-old maid. She adored Lord Ravenscroft and always tried to find a way to see him when he visited Pelham, which was practically an everyday occurrence. For heaven’s sake, the man had even bought an estate close to the Jolly Rooster just to be near her brother and their other best friend, the Earl of Trafford, her sister’s husband.

“Yes, imagine meeting me here.” Ravenscroft slowly turned his gaze to Pippa’s then smiled. The mirth in his eyes made them twinkle. It reminded her of pure mischief, the aggravating kind. The earl was a master at provoking her brother. Simply by throwing out a barb disguised as an observation was his modus operandi.

Whatever he said, she’d not take the bait. She smiled in return. “Are you just arriving?”

“Indeed,” he answered, never taking his gaze from hers.

“Such a shame that we’re leaving.” She nodded again in a show of manners. “Enjoy your walk, my lord.”

“My lady, how unfortunate that you’re departing. I wanted to join you.” A wicked smile that emphasized his full lips tugged at one corner of his mouth. Fine lines fanned the skin surrounding his striking green eyes.

No doubt they were a direct result of his constant exultant temperament. Truly, she’d never seen him angry or bored. Everything seemed to amuse him, which suited him. It enhanced his extraordinary handsomeness if that were possible. In all her life, she’d only seen a few beautiful men, and the Marquess of Ravenscroft was one of those rare individuals. His features were masculine and attractive. Sharp angles framed his cheekbones and square jaw. The only thing that wasn’t sharp about his features were his full lips.

Making her wonder if they were as soft as they appeared. She shook her head slightly to clear such thoughts. She had no business considering the man’s mouth. He was her brother’s best friend.

“How do you know I’m here for a walk?” His voice broke her out of her reverie. “Perhaps I’m here for an assignation of some sort…or another.”

The scoundrel winked at her.

“Seems to be the popular thing today,” Alice added unhelpfully.

Pippa drew a deep breath and released it. She’d learned early in life that it was best to put your adversaries on the defensive. “Well, we don’t want to keep you from your appointment.” She waved a gloved hand in the air. “Or tryst or rendezvous,” she said under her breath.

“It’s my lucky day. It just happens that my assignation is with you.” He held up his arm. “Walk with me.”

“I can’t…” She turned toward the entrance of the park. Bedford was nowhere in sight. Where was the blasted man? It wasn’t a good omen. Perhaps he wasn’t interested in her proposal.

The subtle fragrance of sandalwood mixed with a heavenly masculine scent wafted her way. Ravenscroft always smelled divine. That’s why he was one of her favorite dance partners at an event.

He leaned near, almost close enough to kiss her. Then, his whisky-dark voice teased her ear. “He’s not coming.”

It was a wonder that Lady Pippa didn’t injure herself when she whipped her head to face him.

Hugh didn’t mince words this time. “You should walk with me. I think you’ll find it highly enlightening.”

Her eyes narrowed in wariness then blazed into anger. She wasn’t pleased. Normally, he never involved himself in others’ business, but this wasn’t anyone ordinary. It was Lady Pippa Ardeerton, his best friend’s little sister.

Honestly, she was also one of the most interesting people he’d ever met. Uncommonly beautiful with a rare wit, she could make anyone feel at ease, even Bedford, who was a nervous nelly.

Simply put, Lady Pippa was perfect. She’d make a perfect wife and partner.

If someone were looking for such a thing.

Slowly, she took his arm. As they strolled down the path, he chuckled to himself. They must appear as if they were two friends who, by happenstance, met at the park for an early bout of exercise. How wrong that observation would be. He’d purposely arrived at the exact time she was supposed to meet with Bedford.

When Hugh stole a glance at Lady Pippa, her eyes met his. They were royal blue, the same as her older brother’s. But he’d noticed that hers had flecks of gold sprinkled throughout the irises. When he’d first met her, he’d been taken aback at her beauty. Even today, she could steal his breath. In a silken green morning gown with a jaunty little hat with peacock feathers, she was confident, assured, and carried herself with a grace that others could only wish to possess.

As much as he enjoyed counting her attributes, now was not the time. They had business to discuss.

With a quick glimpse, Hugh ensured that Lady Pippa’s maid was behind them. She was still within proper chaperoning distance but couldn’t hear their conversation. With his free hand, he pulled Bedford’s letter from the inside pocket of his waistcoat. “The reason your beau isn’t coming is because your letter was delivered to me.”

She stumbled, and instantly, he tightened his arm around hers to keep her steady. They’d stopped their casual stroll, and Pippa’s defiant chin lifted as she stared straight into his eyes. How uniquely refreshing for him. He didn’t have to strain his neck when conversing. Normally, women peered up at him, but Pippa was only a half-foot shorter than him. The censorious look in her eyes was also refreshing. Most women, particularly ones looking for a husband, simpered and whispered around him as if he thought such behavior was enticing.

They were all utterly boring. But he would never consider Lady Pippa boring, particularly when sparks of outrage flashed in her brilliant blue eyes.

“For your information, he isn’t my beau.” She snatched the letter from his hand and examined it. Her eyes widened in horror. “The seal is broken. You opened it?”

He winced at the incredulity in her voice.

“Not on purpose.” He closed the distance between them until a mere six inches were between them.

Alice loudly cleared her throat in warning that he was too intimately close. He nodded his acknowledgment and stepped away until a respectable foot separated them.

“When my mail arrives, my butler organizes it on a silver salver and then places it on my desk. All the correspondence is presented with the wax seal facing me. It makes it quicker to open the stack.” He shrugged slightly. “When I opened your letter and read it, I realized that it wasn’t addressed to me.”

“You even read it?” Heat bludgeoned her cheeks, and her voice had softened.

“I did.” Honestly, it didn’t feel as if he had anything to apologize for. She was on a fool’s errand that could end with her being ruined.

She flinched slightly before a mask of indifference fell across her features. With a stalwart gaze, she slowly surveyed the park, completely ignoring him for a moment. Ramrod straight and with a determined demeanor, she reminded him of Diana, the goddess of the hunt. An appropriate comparison since, no doubt, Pippa would like to shoot him with an arrow about now.

Eventually, she turned to him with a pleasant smile on her face. It was as bogus as the calves of the men who wore padded stockings to give the impression of muscular legs.

“I trust that you will be discreet and keep that letter secret.” She chewed on her lip, and her delicate brow furrowed into perfect lines. “As an honorable gentleman, you should do that.”

He wanted to roll his eyes at that statement. As an honorable gentleman, he should have gone straight to her brother.

But out of respect for her, he decided to keep the appointment this morning. As an honorable man, he had to warn her about Lord Bedford. More importantly, as an honorable man, he couldn’t allow her to ruin herself.

Bloody hell, she’d asked the man to marry her.

And if that wasn’t enough, she’d written to four more men asking the same.

The puzzled look on Ravenscroft’s face gave her pause. She asked him to keep her secret. It was a simple request. What was there even to consider?

“You will not share it?” She waited for a moment as dead silence greeted her. “Ravenscroft, please answer me.”

“Let us continue our stroll,” he said, extending his arm.

Reluctantly, she wrapped her arm around his. “Ravenscroft? You have not given me an answer.”

“I’m considering it,” he said curtly, then flashed a smile and nodded at an older couple who passed them.

She did the same and waited until they had some distance from the couple. “What’s there to consider?”

When he turned his hard-as-nails gaze to hers, she blinked. Oh dear, she’d never seen him this serious before. But it made no difference what he thought. This was her life, and she knew what she wanted. No one, including the Marquess of Ravenscroft, would stop her.

Her conscience cheered, “Hear, hear.” Since she’d been an adult, she’d promised herself that she would do whatever she needed to attain her dream. Even accept the first man who would agree to her proposal and conditions. She’d have one of Pelham’s solicitors draft the settlement agreement since her brother had several on retainer. They were the best legal minds in London. Yet, it didn’t eliminate the feeling of uneasiness.

They’d stopped by a scenic view of the Serpentine. This was normally her favorite part of the park, but she didn’t see it. All her attention focused on the marquess. Everything felt on edge, as if she was about to fall into the lake.

He reached into his pocket and then handed her another open letter. Immediately, her heart slammed against her ribs in a near riot as her breath caught. This time, she was the one who closed the distance between them.

When Alice cleared her throat, Pippa held her hand out, palm facing the maid. “I understand you care about maintaining my respectability, but this is something very important,” she said, never turning her gaze away from Ravenscroft. “If you’ll give the marquess and me a little more privacy? This shan’t take much more than a minute.”

From her periphery, she could see Alice scooting back.

“Bloody hell,” Pippa seethed softly. “How did you come by my correspondence?”

“I’m not really certain.” He shrugged, then reached into his coat and pulled out more letters. “But this is all of it.” He arched one eyebrow. “Unless you asked more than five men to marry you.”

She slammed her eyes shut, then opened them once her anger was under control. “I personally gave those to the messenger boy that my brother uses. I asked the boy to hand deliver each letter.”

He leaned a little closer. “And he happens to be the same messenger boy that your brother and I both use when we have letters and documents to be delivered.”

“This is a little too coincidental, don’t you think? I write to five different men, and you end up with every single letter?” Her anger simmered, ready to ignite in a full boil of fury. “Are you trying to vex me?”

“Don’t be ridiculous.” He innocently blinked.

“I’m not,” she parried.

“You’re absolutely correct. I apologize. You’re not ridiculous at the moment,” he answered, then clasped his hands behind his back. Even acting aloof, the man was too handsome for his own good. “But you were when you asked Lord Bedford, Lord Kingston, Lord Stanhope, and Lord Wexworth to marry you.”

Pippa lowered her voice. “Don’t be absurd. I did not ask them to marry me.”

He tilted his head and widened his eyes in disbelief. “You said, ‘Meet me at Hyde Park for the express purpose of discussing the possibility of matrimony with me.’” He widened his stance and stared at his perfectly polished boots.

His valet must use a gallon of champagne to achieve such a shine. What a waste of good wine. She counted five long, drawn-out breaths, each one calming her just a bit more.

He slid his gaze to hers. Another wicked gleam flashed from his eyes. “Oh, I forgot to add Lord Burrell. But it was brilliant on your part that you didn’t have them meeting you on the same day. One for each day of the week.”

“Are you finished?” she seethed.

“Hardly, madame.” He glanced at the ground and shook his head. “What a collection of men.” He lifted his gaze, the challenge in his eyes crystal clear. “Why on earth those individuals?”

“I don’t have to answer to you.” She pivoted on the ball of one foot to face Alice.

“But you do have to answer to your brother,” he said softly.

That one statement brought everything to a standstill. She blinked her eyes, then turned to face him. She hated to plead for anything. It always brought forth memories of her ignored pleas in the dining room on that dreadful day with her parents. It had made her feel helpless. Since then, she’d only done it once in her life when she’d begged her brother to allow her to attend one of his infamous masquerades at the Jolly Rooster. No matter how much she begged or cajoled, he wasn’t swayed. She promised herself she’d never put herself in that position again.

It wasn’t that her brother Dane was hard-hearted, but he did take his role as patriarch of the family seriously. He wanted his sisters happy and secure in their lives.

And that meant marriage.

Her brother was a bit of a romantic. He wanted her to fall in love and marry someone who would protect her and make her happy. She didn’t need that. She needed that dress shop, and if her brother was worried about her safety, she’d buy a guard dog.

Pippa took her role as an independent woman seriously as well. Dane had taught her to solve insurmountable problems with innovative solutions…even if they were unconventional. She was rather proud of her ingenuity in solving the problem at hand.

She didn’t want to disappoint Dane as he and her sister Honor were everything to Pippa. But she knew what was best for her future and a conventional marriage wasn’t the answer. So, that left her with no choice but to do things her way. Besides, living with her brother had taught her that it was much easier to explain afterward than to convince him beforehand.

She squared her shoulders, never tearing her gaze from Ravenscroft. Her fury returned with a vengeance. It reminded her of an inferno, which was a good thing. It would be fitting if the marquess was singed from the heat she radiated.

“Everyone has a price,” she said evenly, but there was no mistaking the menace in her voice. “What do you want?”

“Answers.”

She folded her arms across her chest. “Not that you deserve any, but if it’ll guarantee your silence, then ask away.”

“Why are you looking to marry?” He held out his arm.

She simply stared at it, not moving a muscle. She huffed a little breath.

“Are you in some sort of trouble, Pippa?” His voice had deepened, sending shivers through her. “No matter what it is, I will help you. Just tell me the truth.”

She still stared at him.

“My lady?” Alice asked with a small smile. “Remember my elbow? Also, remember what I said about flies and honey.”

Alice was right. She couldn’t be contrary. She nodded in agreement, then turned to Hugh. “I need my trust fund.”

“And…?” he asked with that infuriating smile he wore so well.

At that moment, she realized that she had to tell him the entire story if she wanted him to keep her secret. She lowered her arms and allowed a small smile to tug at her lips. It was a peace offering of sorts.

“Mademoiselle Mignon is marrying. She offered to sell her modiste shop to me.” Pippa grabbed his arm and squeezed. The hard muscles beneath her hand flexed. “This is a chance of a lifetime.” She was practically bouncing on tiptoes. “If I marry, I have access to my trust fund, and I can buy the shop.”

A delightful smile tugged at his lips. “You’re excited about this?”

“I’m ecstatic. It’s my dream come true. I’ve been designing and sewing gowns all my life. I want to teach others how to create dresses.”

“That’s an admirable goal.” He smiled but then frowned. “Why did you pick these men?” He held up his hands as if not wanting to offend her. “I mean, they’re a rather eclectic group.”

She chuckled softly. “Easy answer. They’re all part of Pelham’s millionaire club. He’ll give his blessing that way.” She grew pensive and captured his gaze. “He doesn’t want me to go into trade before I marry. He thinks it’s beneath me.” She fisted her hand, desperate to make Ravenscroft understand. “I want this. I need this. It’s my calling, you see.”

He nodded. “Your brother can be a little set in his ways.”

That was an understatement if she’d ever heard of one. Pippa had no doubt that Pelham loved her without any reservation. However, he could be a tad protective at times, but it was time for her to spread her wings.

“Why wasn’t I on the list? I’m in your brother’s club.” His stare captured her gaze.

“You?” She laughed. “What a bouncer.” When she saw the flash of offense in his eyes, Pippa knew she’d said the wrong thing. “I didn’t mean that in a hurtful way.” Heat, the kind that told too much, licked her cheeks. “You’re my brother’s best friend. You saw what he did to my sister Honoria and Marcus in their courtship. One day, he’s threatening to shoot Marcus, and then the next, he was inviting him to dinner.” She shook her head vehemently. “Pelham doesn’t handle change well.”

“Good point,” he responded with a grin. “Your brother and I have a friendship that we both cherish. I’m as close to him as my own brother.” He grew serious, an emotion that he wore infrequently. “But don’t you want to fall in love the traditional way? Have men court you?”

She slid him a side-eyed glance. “Sir, you don’t listen very carefully. I said I want to marry, not fall in love.”

“Why don’t you want to fall in love?” His straightforward demeanor took her aback.

But she was determined to quickly recover the upper hand. The man didn’t need to know her thoughts and opinions about the elusive promise of love.

“Ravenscroft,” she playfully chided, then tapped him on the arm with her folded fan. The smack of the ivory blades cracked like a warning shot across the lush park grounds. “A lady mustn’t tell all her secrets.” She batted her eyes in the most flirtatious manner she possessed, the one she’d practiced in the mirror for years. “Please, can I have your word as a gentleman that you won’t tell my brother?”

“Lady Pippa, is there something in your eye?” Before she could deliver a proper retort, his tone grew as playful as hers. “Your wiles won’t work on me.”

Why was she surprised? She wanted to stomp her foot in frustration. She’d never been very successful with persuading men. However, she thought Ravenscroft was different. He was one of the few men in her brother’s circle of friends who truly listened to her.

“My lord,” she said, then inhaled a deep breath. She was actually going to do it, break her vow to herself. Her whole body shuddered slightly as she gathered the courage to say the words. “Please, Ravenscroft, I’m begging you.”

He stared at her for a long moment. The intensity of his gaze felt like a knife cutting her open and spilling all her secrets. She straightened her shoulders. Under no circumstance would she allow him to have them. They were hers and only hers. Miraculously, his expression had transformed from teasing into something way more serious and verboten.

“I’m a man with a conscience.” He slowly gazed across the park before he returned his penetrating stare back to hers. “I don’t want to interfere, but as a friend of your brother’s, it’s my duty to look out for your welfare.” Before she could protest that she didn’t need a keeper, he raised his hand. “Pelham invited me to dine with you and him on the morrow. Let me consider what you ask. I never betray a friend. And I consider you a friend.” He grinned. “I’ll give you my answer then. But I beg of you, do not send out more letters. We shall consider this a truce.” He widened his eyes with a roguish grin.

“Only enemies need truces,” she challenged.

He smiled as if pacifying a child. “Either way, I would be forever in your debt if you cease sending those letters. Consider it friendly advice.”